1163 More Like It.


Today I cracked open one of the Teen’s PS4 controllers. The buttons had been sticking and I figured it just needed to be cleaned out. Canned air wasn’t getting it done, so I went ahead and took it apart. Or, more accurately, opened it up and accidentally spilled the innards all over the floor. Luckily most companies make their remotes idiot proof these days. Things only fit back together one way. As long as you can solve a puzzle you can put a controller back together. Parts of the inside were actually broken, (The Teen sometimes ragequits.) but they weren’t so broken that I couldn’t fuse them back together. In the end I got the thing back in working order. What with a controller costing as much as a game in some cases I think it’s foolish not to at least try to do some maintenance on them. I think people would be surprised how simple those things are if they took a chance to look inside.

This Thanksgiving will be the first without the Teen’s dad. I don’t suppose I really need to explain what that means. He’s been gone just shy of a year. A year that has been so traumatic that its perceived brevity should really be counted as a blessing. Somehow it doesn’t feel that way. It just seems further away from familiar times. It makes me feel lonely. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but the inevitability of change is one of the only things that makes me notice it.

In any event, I hope you have a happy Thanksgiving if you observe it. If not, I hope your Thursday treats you well. I’ll be here, waiting for you, on Friday. Like always.