I learned something extraordinary this week.
Apparently, there are entire websites where people go, simply to watch other people play video games!
I asked my husband if he had ever heard of such a thing. “No, but it might be interesting,” he said.
“You just miss the boys, because they’re both in college,” I replied. “But now they’re home for Thanksgiving, you can remind yourself how much fun it was to have them ignore you in favor of voices that only exist in their headphones. You want to watch that? It sounds about as riveting as watching paint dry!”
“It’s not like that, mom,” said one of the boys. “It’s the same way people pay to watch a football game. Or a NASCAR race.”
NASCAR — that’s a great comparison.
Except for one thing. Everybody knows that the fans are only there in hopes of a crash, with fiery wreckage that somebody has a 50/50 chance of getting out of, alive.
What’s the equivalent of that, in a video game? “Oops, I’m out. Guess I’ll go get that soda, now.”
“And you know what?” said my other son. “People don’t just watch. They pay to do it! Some of these gamers are making good money!”
That’s just crazy.
But if there is money to be made from letting people watch you do something boring — why not watch me, getting ready for Thanksgiving? It would provide a lot of laughs, I feel sure.
For instance, you could watch me buy the wrong grapes for the fruit bowl (why do they even sell grapes with seeds, anyway?)
Or bag all my groceries in plastic, while my cloth bags sit unused, right in the car.
Fans of “Judy, The Game” could have watched me, earlier in the week, stuffing papers from the living room into boxes and shopping bags, which I paid a friend’s son to take to the garage.
I work at a steady pace until the doorbell rings, at which point I go into high gear, randomly stuffing things into whatever comes to hand…. It’s a good thing I don’t have a cat, or it would be missing, with a bag rolling end over end, making yowling sounds.
As it is, I am missing a checkbook, three library books, and the lid to the salad dressing.
Will the Judy Channel have commentators, using their “golf announcer” voice?
“This is a tricky moment for Judy. In past years, she has always forgotten that the metal handles of the roasting pan burn her hands when she takes it out of the oven. Will she remember, this year?”
“Or will she remember that other time, when she remembered the mitts but yanked the pan out too quickly, precipitating a gravy-tsunami that sloshed all down her skirt?”
“Yes, that was a tricky moment for her. Let’s hope she remembers.” It’s a good time for eagle-eyed watchers to answer this question:
Where are Judy’s potholders for pulling the turkey out of the oven?
a) On the kitchen counter
b) Hanging from the hook by the toaster
c) On the dining room table with the last thing Judy took out there,
d) Actually in the oven, about to catch fire.
And at the end of the day, my fans could watch me while I watch television, all but comatose, with my husband.
”What did the police officer say?” I might ask.
“I don’t know, Judy; where are the captions?”
“Oh for heavens’ sake, just hold on a moment. I’m pressing the button right now and — Hey, what happened? Why are we suddenly watching a football game?”
“Judy, did you push the ‘channel’ button instead of ‘volume’ — again?”
“It’s not my fault — they all look the same without my glasses!”
“It’s time for the Double-or-Nothing Special Challenge: Where do you think Judy’s glasses are? We’ll have the answer for you when we come back from this commercial break. The choices are:
a) On the bathroom sink
b) In the kitchen, on top of the microwave
c) Next to the TV remote
d) On top of her head.”
Of course it’s no challenge for my children, who know that the answer is (d). Everyone knows that except me, apparently. “That’s what makes you so much fun to watch, Mom!”
As long as they pay up!