Before Owen Wilson's nose was attached, this world was a lot for Old Granny Dreamcast to take in. That newfangled headgear you're supposed to be wearing now. Games on telephones. The instruments everyone carried around a couple years ago seemed to be coming back. "Be a rock star," said one new title, as a crowd threw cups at her and booed. "This isn't what it feels like. This is it." After the nose though, nothing. No sickness, no disorientation, no more feeling alone. Old Granny Dreamcast straps on her guitar, jumps on the "AM Ballads" stream and is gone.