Every night it's the same forlorn ritual. I watch my TV, read my books, chase the cat into the bathroom and back--all in a vain effort to fill the gaping emptiness inside. Invariably at some point my hands reach for the beloved black controller, where I try--even though I know it won't work, but still you never know--to log on to the online network of my Sony PS3 game console.
It's been 7 days now (or is it 7,000?) since the Sony PlayStation Network went down. We've since learned the company is taking the extreme step of rebuilding its network after a massive hacking attack. E-mail addresses, passwords, purchase history--and almost certainly credit card numbers--all sucked up by persons unknown.
I wish I could get riled up over this latest security breach, but honestly it's the third time in three years I've received notification that my credit information may have been compromised. At this point in the Digital Age, I've become reconciled to the fact that lots of strangers are rummaging through the underwear drawer of my credit history.
What's truly disheartening about Sony's security fumble is how much I miss posting my best scores on the Sony network. And more insidiously, the addictive nature of video games.