Some people dream of a cure for cancer, some people dream of world peace, and some people dream of an end to hunger across the globe -- but my dream is to control a video game by waving a stick around.
So you can imagine my joy when Nintendo announced that its next generation system -- the Wii (pronounced "we") -- would allow me to do exactly this in the privacy of my own home -- meaning that I could also be completely naked while playing.
My neighbor and friend Patrick Conway (junior-information sciences and technology) and I set out Saturday evening to be among the first to get our hands on this revolutionary system.
This is our quest for Wii.
6 p.m. Saturday - Atherton Wal-Mart
I approached the Wii line and saw what could only be described as a geek refugee camp: The path was lined with air mattresses and groups of people huddled together over their handheld Nintendo DS systems.
"I showed up at 11:30 p.m. [Friday]," Rob Bell (junior-landscape architecture) said. He wasn't the first: Alan Urtz (freshman-public relations), self-proclaimed "Mayor of Mario-Ville," had beaten him.
7:30 p.m. Saturday - Circuit City
At Circuit City, a smaller group of people had already called dibs on the 12 units available at that store.
Nicholas Glantz, Circuit City product specialist, said he was opening the store the next day. "I'm hoping I don't get stabbed or shot," he said.
Some campers received moral support. A few of Thomas Fiki's (junior-kinesiology) relatives from Jersey visited while he waited for the Wii.
"It's a lot of passion and a lot of sacrifice," aunt Bola Kukoyi said of Fiki's efforts. "This kind of dedication will work wonders for anybody's life."
After his family left, Fiki shrugged.
"I'm getting paid to be out here," he said, explaining that someone was giving him $100 to camp out at Circuit City. "I actually think it's crazy that people are waiting out here for video games."
8 p.m. Saturday -- Wal-Mart near Nittany Mall
Those waiting at the Wal-Mart across from Nittany Mall had put nametags on their shirts indicating their places in line. Some had even taken to addressing one another simply by their line numbers. The group had also written a constitution solidifying the official rules of the line.
One article of the constitution read, " 'Number One Wii,' will be the arbitrator of any arguments, since he obviously has no life and has been here since the dawn of time," referring to Evan Rowland (sophomore-information sciences and technology), who arrived Friday at 11:30 a.m.
8:30 p.m. Saturday -- Sears
It turned out that our last hope, Sears, had received exactly two units -- and that no one was waiting in line. All we would have to do was wait in the Nittany Mall parking lot until 10 a.m. Sunday morning -- a mission we gladly accepted.
11:30 p.m. Saturday -- Sears
A police car pulled up.
"Are you employees of Sears?" the officer asked as she stepped out of her vehicle, shining a flashlight at us.
We explained the situation to her, and after a few tense minutes she wished us luck and drove away.
Minutes later, a Nittany Mall security guard drove up and we went through the spiel again. The guard then engaged us in an intellectually stimulating conversation about video games and superhero movies.
6 a.m. Sunday -- Sears
After we scared off a series of several people who were aiming to take our Wiis, an adorable high school freshman was dropped off in front of Sears by his father, who quickly drove away, leaving the kid there by himself.
We explained to the kid that we had dibs on the Wiis. Upset but understanding, he called his father and asked him to turn around.
The man who emerged out of the car a few minutes later came straight out of an after-school special. "What's the problem here?" the man demanded, yelling and swearing at us and threatening to call the police if we didn't let his son buy a Wii.
Finally, Conway gave in and let the boy have his spot in line.
"He seemed genuinely apologetic for his father and he seemed like he really wanted the system," Conway told me later, justifying his surrender.
10 a.m. Sunday - Sears
After four hours of geek talk with the high school kid, we finally entered Sears and laid down $300 each for a Nintendo Wii and a Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess game. Victory was sweet, and I pumped my fist triumphantly as I left.
While the console itself will surely be rendered obsolete in a few years' time, the experiences Conway and I shared will not soon be forgotten.
I think "Mayor of Mario-Ville" Urtz at the Atherton Wal-Mart summed it up best when he said, "I think we all agree that this was more than worth it."
