Photo credit: ginnerobot

So you’ve decided to get a Wii. Well, it’s a good news/bad news proposition. First the bad news: Nintendo keeps a level playing field by setting a standard price for its console — $199.99 — which makes shopping around for the best price fruitless. But the good news is that the Wii world is a little more complex than that, so savvy shoppers can still save some dough. Here’s how.

1. Look for a gift-card bonus. The way some retailers get around Nintendo’s MSRP (or any manufacturer’s, for that matter) is a store gift-card with the purchase. These were prevalent around the holidays and may be harder to find at other times, but are still worth a search.

2. Shop bundles. This is where things get complicated, because a Wii isn’t all it can be without accessories and software. Bundles are usually designed around an interest–like sports, fitness or music. Think about how you want to use your console and start shopping bundles.

3. Think used. There are tons of used consoles for sale online and some in stores. Depending on your comfort level, you can shop eBay (where there are dozens for sale) or go for a more “brand name” refurbishment. Our family shops regularly at GameStop for used items. There, a Wii console ($165 on a recent search) comes with a guarantee that it’ll work. I like that! Again, it’s essential to know exactly what is included in the price (especially if you’re buying a bundle), so that you’re comparing apples to apples in evaluating the price.

4. Work the coupon codes. If buying online, search to see if any coupon codes/coupons are available for the retailer you’re planning to buy from. Just do a search on “coupon code” and the retailer’s name and check any of the coupon sites that come up. If this search doesn’t turn up anything, at least let the purchase benefit your favorite charity — for example, most schools are hooked up with online malls like eScrip or Boxtops for Education. With a significant purchase like a Wii, you might as well have a small portion (usually 3-10 percent) help your favorite cause.

Happy shopping!

Greg and Connie were born in New Jersey, but from the moment the Internet struck, they might as well have just arrived from Taiwan. When the Internet landed on them, it redistributed the prestige and authority that goes with a general understanding of the ways of the world away from the grown-ups and to the child. The grown-ups now depended on the child to translate for them. Technology had turned them into a family of immigrants.

Those of us who were born into a world where the Internet didn’t exist, will always have a longing–spoken or unspoken–for the old country. The fact is, that’s a world most of our children have never visited. Neither is it a world to which we will return.

http://decoder.drugfree.org/

Easy, you say. Just eliminate TV altogether. Three of the four of us are unwilling to make that move. (Hmm. I’ll let you guess who that is. Hint: I have only one vote out of two.) Another possible solution: Disperse the viewers to other rooms. I think not: The kitchen has…breakfast. And in a disturbing turn of events, one individual (who I will not name) has attempted to gain access by waking before the rest of us. Never a good development. Stay tuned: Whoever solves this one will surely be tapped for the next Middle East peace delegation.

On the first day of mute, I was joyful with the silence. But then a pall began to slowly descend over the room. There’s something off-putting about seeing a person who is engaged in something (a TV show) but blocked out from the rest of us. And gradually, I’ve noticed that when I have a choice about where to hang out, it’s anywhere but the silent-but-occupied kitchen. Sure, the headphones mitigated a rough situation. But they also showed me that TV, like most things, is at its best when shared.

I pride myself with being an early adopter, but I rejected IMing long ago when it was a crude feature on aol and I found it distracting and strangely paced. And I swear, I have not heard another word about it for at least five years. Then all of a sudden, it’s “IM this” and “IM that,” everywhere I turn.

Like me, my son Andy is an early adopter–for a fifth grader–and as such he has totally eclipsed me in his tech cultural awareness. In fact, I just changed screens to see if my YahooMessenger had fully installed. It had, and when the IM screen popped up, Andy’s line (my only IM ”friend” currently) announced that he was at his friend’s house. Of course I knew that, but I wondered, how did he know how to do that? He has a little baseball player cartoon next to his name. How did he do that?

I start digging deeper. Hmm. So many features. I can invite a group of people to a conference. I can use a Web cam. There’s a launchcast so I can play a radio station. Oh! And buy the song that’s playing. And view the lyrics. And rate it. I can be invisible to everyone, or just certain people. I can go to a chat room. Change the skin. Send an SMS message. Invite someone to play a game with me. This is total overload for a baby-boomer.

Excuse me while I pat myself on the back for trying to get up-to-date. And then go down a couple of aspirins. But after a nap (just kidding, sort of), I’m guessing I’ll get a second wind and dive back into my new life as an IMer. If you’re into it, let me know how you use it and by all means, invite me to be your new IMBFF.

Several weeks ago, a friend and I attended a seminar on parenting and technology. The leaders opened up the evening by asking audience members to pose their questions up front, so the questions could be answered during the presentation. I was totally blown away by the intensity of the questions. In fact, three-fourths of the parents who raised their hands actually had very small questions but very large, impassioned rants that surrounded them. As my friend described it, they laid out all their baggage.

Now, I am well aware that I wouldn’t be blogging about parenting and technology if I didn’t have my own baggage and some deep-seated reasons why this particular topic gets  under my skin. But it’s always easier to see what’s unproductive in other people, which is what happened to me at that seminar. Wow! I was them (though perhaps more discretely). And suddenly I could see how unproductive this emotional charge can be, especially in dealing with kids.

To me, nonjudgment doesn’t mean taking a “whatever” stance when it comes to use of electronics in our family. Limits and boundaries are important. It just means I’m striving to let go of the emotion that can sometimes infiltrate how I deal with screens. Carl Jung’s famous quote, ”What you resist, persists,” rings true here.  TVs, computers, phones, XBoxes, Wiis are not good or bad. They are just machines. Children and their screen habits are not good or bad. They are just children. My own screen habits and parenting approaches are not good or bad. They are just me.

 My Zen challenge going forward will be to enjoy what electronics have to offfer, to enforce limits without emotion and to quiet my interior judge. Take a deep breath, Nancy. And exhale. I’ll let you know how I do.

Andy: That’s so funny.

Friend: What?

Andy: What you said before.

Friend: Yeah.

Andy: Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Keep in mind that, done with email, this meaningful exchange takes about 15 minutes to complete. Perplexing.

Recently, one of my last private corners apparently became public property — a corner I hadn’t even noticed, until it was disturbed: It’s the computer desktop. I take for granted that when I sit down at the computer, it will always look the same: same programs, same arrangement of icons, same everything. In fact, this is the reason we set up Andy as his own Windows user: He can enjoy a unicorn background, while I can feel satisfied and content with “Windows Classic.”

But recently, the desktop was touched. Not on purpose by the kids, but by the demons in their programs. After a Nickjr game had its way with us, the display resolution was set on “gigantic,” which meant rejiggering the display settings to get back to our “look.” (Who knew there was such a difference between 1024 x 768 and 800 x 600?) Another day, I went online to find a new and improved home page. Children claimed innocence, as did our ISP. Another day, a new toolbar appeared. Enough of the tools already!

I guess I need to do some work on sharing. But until I’ve matured in this area, it’s fair warning to my kids and the universe: Don’t mess with my desktop!