Last night the Rican announced that his Playstation was in the mail and would soon be arriving at our house. I realized right away that my once peaceful evenings in the shoebox were now going to be filled with sounds of bling blong bloop. (Come on, we all got the first Nintendo. We all can hum the tune to Super Mario Brothers Level 1-1.) I was immediately filled with intense feelings of resentment and hatred. Sentiments which I immediately articulated.
“You can’t deny me my Playstation,” he argued. “ It’s one of my hobbies.”
Playstation? A hobby? Playstation is not a hobby. Painting, Music, Photography. These are all perfectly acceptable hobbies to me. Because after you devote a Saturday to one of them, you usually have something to show for it. More importantly, if you’re good, you’ll also have something to sell. Become skilled enough, and one day you may get a book or a record deal. So basically, a hobby is anything that puts you on the path to riches and/or fame. Otherwise you’re just wasting your time.
Playstation. A hobby. What’s next? Blogging?
Ever the literalist he sent me this definition to prove his point.
1. an activity engaged in for pleasure and relaxation during spare time
“So there,” he said.” It does count as a hobby. Just like smoking weed. That’s also one of my hobbies.”
“Smoking weed is not a hobby!”
“Don't get mad cause you don't have any hobbies.”
I scanned my brain for a few examples. “I do too have hobbies.”
“What, like busting my balls?”
Well, maybe I can relax my definition, just this once.