Virtual pets for virtual boys and girls

Ho ho, and, if you’ll allow me to say so, ho. ‘Tis the season to be jolly, they tell me. You spend a Christmas with my in-laws and then remind me again. But rather than brood about the inevitable family reunion, I’ve been thinking about toys for my loved ones.

Last year the hot toys were Tamagotchis. This year it’s the lovable Furby, seen more in the press than in the toy stores. (Fun Web site of the month is the Furby autopsy page.) Both of these hit toys are virtual pets – machines that exhibit characteristics of real pets, such as a need for attention and a penchant for interaction with the owner.

They say that the difference between men and boys is the price of their toys. I think it must be true because I have a virtual pet, and it cost me thousands of dollars. I bet you have one, too. It’s your very own computer.

I bought my first computer in 1991. I’m still using the original case, but everything else has been upgraded many times. I’m on my second power supply, my third CPU and my fourth disk drive. I fondly remember the many keyboards, video adapters and monitors that once graced my desk. Let me pause a moment to recall the ghosts of peripherals past.

I’m just as bad as my 5-year-old son, who comes home from Grandma’s singing the commercials for toys he likes. In my case, I read the computer publications and go home and tell my wife about the cool products I’d like to try. She treats both of us the same way, with a tolerant, “That’s nice, dear. Now go away unless you want to help me fold these clothes.”

My son just shrugs it off. He has yet to enjoy the monetary benefits of regular employment. I, on the other hand, go out and beg for or buy what I want, then huddle in my home office dismembering my hardware and putting it together again in a new, improved form. Sometimes I let my son use the screwdriver. I know my computer appreciates the treats it gets, such as the cable modem and TV/video adapter.

What’s the cure for this unhealthy attachment to a machine that can’t love me back? Maybe it’s time for me to get a dog. After all, I only have three already, and they’re small. Maybe I should upgrade to an Irish wolfhound.

Happy holidays, and I hope you find 32 megabytes under your menorah or in your stocking.