Pokémon have kidnapped my wife

There is little doubt that Pokémon Go has become quite the phenomenon across the country — NAY! Across the world!

Everywhere you look, people are wandering about, aiming their phones at absolutely nothing and then flicking their fingers across the screen to throw augmented reality Pokéballs at augmented reality creatures.

I watched with subdued interest as my social media feeds began trickling with screen shots of Jigglypuff and Clefairy. That trickle turned into high tide in just a day. Before too long, it was like the Hoover Dam had burst and Tentacools were washing over every bit of social media in sight.

And suddenly people were hunting virtual creatures everywhere.

I comforted myself after hearing my 14-year-old daughter decry the game. Between cheerleading and weight lifting and driver’s education and Detroit Tigers baseball, she made it clear that her schedule was far too full to hunt Pokémon.

Great. Problem solved for me. No Pokémon hunting in my house ...

... and that was short lived.

My wife offered to go pick up supplies for grilling burgers on Sunday. I was suspicious, of course, but I didn’t mind not having to run the errand. But that errand took a bit longer than normal. Though it was apparently quite productive as she came home, beaming with pride over her first several Pokémon captures.

Wait. What?

“There is even a Pokéstop at the American Legion,” she said, smiling.

“A Poké ... stop?” I asked, unsure of the word that was coming out of my mouth.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, unloading the groceries. “And there are some gyms in town and I met this couple in the park who were out hunting, too.”

I stood, dumbfounded, next to the dishwasher. She was speaking in sentences. This I was sure of. But I really couldn’t understand the meaning.

“Gyms,” I said. The word was suddenly foreign to me.

“The lady in the park had just taken all the gyms away from some little kids,” my wife said. She laughed.

All I could think about was adults stealing Pokémon cards from children.

The Pokémon craziness continued into the night. My wife lit incense in my bedroom, though I couldn’t smell it. She captured more creatures. I hugged a pillow and rocked myself to sleep, tears of confusion dripping down my cheeks.

In the morning I had hoped it had all been just an awful dream. I got ready for my day like normal and so did she. We ate breakfast. We did some work. We all piled into the Ford to take my daughter to her driver’s ed class.

Everything was normal. The sun was shining. Birds were singing.

“Can we stop and get the mail?” my daughter asked from the backseat.

I pulled into the parking lot at the post office and handed my daughter the key for the mailbox. She hopped out and, suddenly, so did my wife.

I watched in the mirror as she wandered off. Five minutes later, they both returned. One with the mail and one with — you guessed it — recently captured Pokémon.

I took a few breaths, calming myself, and then made the rest of the drive to our destination. Once my daughter departed the car, it got really crazy.

“Go left,” my wife said. I glanced at the passenger’s seat. Her phone was in her hand. I hesitated for a second and then obeyed. We found a youth center. She caught a Pokémon and collected some Pokéballs. Then she fought for a gym at a church. Then she captured a slew of creatures outside the local mall. Then more at the grocery store.

We stopped at a park and ride. We stopped at a bar. We stopped at the American Legion on the way home. We checked a local campground. A multitude of Pokémon Go creatures were captured.

“Today was a good day,” my wife said confidently as she walked into the house carrying a bag of groceries.

I slowed my walk as she opened the door and went in.

And then it hit me. My wife has been kidnapped by Pokémon. And I have no idea how I’m going to get her back.

Maybe I’ll have to figure out a way to make it so virtual critters gather around me. Maybe I should steal her phone and hide it. Maybe I should just give in and download the app myself and wander around hunting wabbits.

Or maybe I’ll just hope a critter will lure her to my van where I can kidnap her back.

Truth be told, I don’t think it’s a bad thing, necessarily, that people are going outside and wandering around. Sure, it’s odd, at least for a guy in his late 30s who really doesn’t understand the draw of hunting down helpless augmented reality creatures.

We’re a nation that doesn’t like to get off the couch so much anymore (I know, I’m one of those folks), so getting up and moving isn’t the worst thing that could happen. Nintendo could have easily engineered a game that didn’t require people to move anything but their thumbs, but they chose to make folks get up and go to get the most of the game — and it’s working, even if just for a little bit until our collective attention span is caught by the newest shiny object. There are more people playing Pokémon Go than are on Tinder, and if you can usurp an app designed with sex in mind, then you must be doing something right.

In just a few days, even corporations — which I typically find slow on the uptake -- are jumping on the bandwagon, and even tying it into current events.

Though I will say that some may be missing the mark still — I wouldn’t think it a great idea to put a rat on my product if my product was food. But, hey, that’s why I’m not in marketing.