Diary Of A Sim Fanatic

Margie Boulé, columnist for The Oregonian, got a copy of The Sims for Christmas. And just like the rest of us, she can't seem to get it out of her head -- even when she's not at the computer!

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Seduced by Sims into a world of virtual worries

Tuesday, January 2, 2001
By Margie Boulé, Columnist, The Oregonian

Could someone please tell me what's happened in the last week? Because aside from a few bowl game scores, I couldn't tell you a thing about events in the real world.

I've been out of town and out of touch, all while sitting at a computer in my home, right here in Portland. I've always thought of myself as hard-to-get, but now I've fallen and I've fallen hard. I've been swept away by the seductive Sims.

I show all the classic signs of the loveaddled. I'm exhausted from lack of sleep. My daughter is worried about me, my friends think I've lost my mind. I can't decide if I should resent or thank the friend who gave me "The Sims" computer game for Christmas. Frankly, I haven't had time to talk to him since I unwrapped his gift, the best-selling life simulation game from Maxis.

My daughter, home from college on break, posed the disturbing question: is it love or is it addiction? I don't want to think about that right now ... it's hard enough leaving Simville for several hours to write a newspaper column.

The world of the Sims is a fiendishly alluring concept: a neighborhood filled with houses inhabited by tiny people with unique personalities, habits, attractions and ambitions. As the person who manipulates the mouse you have god- like control over their behavior - something that's refreshing to anyone who's ever patented a teen. Of course, the tiny people can be stubborn, whiny and even angry on occasion. As in larger life, these little people need friendship, laughter and love. They also must attend to physical needs; without meals, sleep and trips to the toilet, they lose tempers, friends, jobs, even their lives.

I should know. I bear responsibility for one tiny man's death when I built his house without a kitchen or bathroom, just to see what would happen. It wasn't pretty or hygienic. Before long he was buried beneath a headstone in his back yard. I actually felt guilt until he reappeared as a lively ghost.

It may be hard to believe such mundane activities as watering plants and brushing teeth could be so compelling as to become addictive. After all, nobody's killing zombies, delivering kung fu kicks or crashing race cars.

But The Sims do more than monitor home maintenance and build the occasional extra bedroom. This is a strategy game, perhaps even a work of social commentary. It's been described as an effort to help Sims become wealthy so they can build impressive houses and acquire possessions.

That's how it appeared at first. I was happily buying bigger, better TV sets and computers, jumping online to visit Sims shopping malls where I could download Oriental rugs and designer clothes, and works of art to hang on wallpaper I'd carefully selected.

But within the first 10 hours of game play I began to spot chinks in the capitalist ideal. The more stuff I bought, the more taxes and bills I had to pay. New appliances broke, causing flooding and fires and requiring costly repairs. A burglar stole the big screen TV be-fore I'd installed burglar alarms; I was outraged when Sim police seemed unconcerned.

And as my simulated home became larger and more crowded with such items as pool tables and swimming pools, I noticed a "Field of Dreams" effect: friends visited more often and brought new friends, each of whom wanted something different - potato chips? a joke? an action movie on VO When my tiny woman took out the trash, a seductive neighbor kissed her boyfriend. I know he liked it, because of the glowing plus-signs that floated in the air over his head.

Where's the escapist joy in that, you wonder? Well, there is something to be said for helping a small fellow with a gambling addiction avoid the slot machine. I sold it for only a small loss.

Perhaps I'll soon be able to go online and find a tiny clinical psychologist I can download and build an office for, who'll help my family deal with issues of jealousy, infidelity and anxiety over back taxes.

One friend has suggested I am imposing my own life on these little beings. And it,s true - I force my people to swing dance, play classical music and read the paper, I'm excited Maxis is adding a new career track: journalism.

But to be honest, I've begun to notice the game is influencing my "real" life as well. I sat with my daughter Saturday, thinking, "This conversation would bring a lot of pleasure points to the Sims." I find myself washing dishes the inoment they're dirtied, aware of Sims hygiene points. So far I have not paid any taxes in advance.

So what's going on here? Have I become the director of my own personal sitcom? And who's controlling whom, I wondered late one night when my daughter returned from an,evening out. "Mom," she said, when she saw me where she'd left me six hours earlier, hunched before the computer. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Keeping my Sims from oversleeping had kept me up way past my bedtime.