Susan Senator

I wrote the following commentary for NPR’s Marketplace, but they “are not going to use it.” (Don’t you just love the myriad ways editors express rejection of one’s work?) The piece is about how everyone is talking about the XBox 360, and how they can’t find it anywhere, and yet Max, my cool dude thirteen-year-old (front and center):

could not care less.

X Marks the Box — A Commentary Meant for Public Radio
Where did I go wrong, raising a boy who has no interest in violent video games? My thirteen year old son Max doesn’t care about Xbox 360, the must-have present for teenagers this Christmas. Even though Microsoft was even cannier than usual in this round of marketing because they managed to ship their next generation product ahead of Sony and Nintendo, in time for Christmas, and in short supply, Max remains indifferent to its charm. “The graphics are good, but it’s mostly all sports games and first-person shooters,” he says with mild disgust.

I know what you’re thinking: artistic type. Anti-technology.

Wrong. Max is as big a computer geek as they come. Max is Uber-technical, obsessed with designing his own computer games, making Flash movies, hacking, and blogging. Max’s computer teacher comes to him for help.

Which is the real crux of my problem: what presents can I, a hopelessly right-brained, soft-hearted female, get this boy? How can I connect with him, a virtual stranger wrapped in baggy pants and attitude? Long gone are the days when I could make him smile with a new Beanie Baby. I look at Max’s wish list, bewildered. Every item is a significant bit of software, averaging close to $100. I need a manual to understand the names. I need to know that “Alias” software is different from an Alienware computer, apparently the most awesome of computers because it has alien eyes on it – for a retail price starting at $4,399.

Hmm, I think desperately. Maybe I can just paint some alien eyes on my old Mac?

What am I going to get Max? I’m panicking.

And then I notice the item towards the bottom of the list: Weebl and Bob Plushies. Weebl and Bob Plushies? I dutifully Google it, and there, before my eyes, are a cluster of little stuffed creatures with the sweetest faces. Tiny, dot eyes; felt bodies. My breath catching in my throat, I realize that I have stumbled upon the other side of thirteen: Fragments of innocence.

I can order Weebl online for $17.75. In fact, I will order the whole set, because now I feel like celebrating that my son is completely out of the mainstream, difficult to shop for, and I couldn’t be happier.