Can we make this game Pokemon Go away?

FATHER’S DAZE
Emmitt B. Feldner • forThe Review

I’m being besieged by Pokemaniacs – or would that be Pokemoniacs?

All three of our grandsons are devotees of the game – although that word probably falls far short of the reality.

That would be bad enough, but now they’ve gotten their grandmother hooked on the game as well.

It’s probably as much her fault, as she downloaded the game on her phone for the boys to play when they’re with us.

That’s probably one reason why, when I got my last phone, I got one with limited memory and then made sure to fill it up with games and apps that I wanted – and which don’t interest Ty, Nolan or Aiden at all.

With the game on her phone, it wasn’t long before Terry started playing it herself.

Her rationale is that she was just trying to find another way to connect with her three grandsons.

But my suspicion is that she was actually connecting with another child – her inner one.

The result is that, any time any of the grandsons are with us, they’re quickly lost in their Pokemon world with their grandmother.

They’ll be comparing notes about what kind of Pokemon they’ve caught, what they’re evolving into and what level they’re at.

I could say what level all of this is at, but I’m probably better off not saying.

Instead, I’m left on the outside looking in, wondering what the heck they’re all talking about.

Actually, that’s not really a problem – it’s a state I find myself in more often than not, as a matter of fact.

The problem is that Terry has taken up playing – and obsessing – over the game even when she’s not in grandmother mode.

For instance, I’ll be driving home after we’ve run to the store and she’ll have the game open on her phone.

That’s when she’ll tell me to slow down, that there’s a Pokestop in the park or building or something else just ahead.

It seems that, to collect whatever it is you collect at Pokestops, you can’t be going past it at more than a fast walk.

That’s fine when you’re out for a walk, but when you’re driving, that’s a bit more of a challenge.

Let me tell you, it’s no fun trying to explain to the three-blocklong traffic jam behind us that I’m driving at not much more than a slow crawl because somebody in the car has to collect their Pokestop stuff – whatever that is.

So while she collects her goodies, I collect all kinds of glares, gestures, words and more from frustrated drivers behind me or passing me.

Fortunately, it hasn’t gotten bad enough that she forced me to exit the freeway on our last trip in order to chase down some out-ofthe way Pokestop.

But that may well be coming on our next trip.

I can hardly wait for the traffic jams we’ll be causing on the interstate while she searches for her next Pokestop.


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