The Jaded Gamer: My Maladies
Miketastic Debate Week Debacle: Article One
As a longtime Nintendo gamer, I, perhaps like yourself, have some of those strange "hardcore" gamer mannerisms. In retrospect, I've obsessed over far too many facets of gaming, and yes, I got jiggy with it. That's a phrase that should dropped out of the vernacular, but since I tend to live in the past, chances are, it has while I've been oblivious. Anywho, jiggyisms aside, below are a few accounts that made me blush, made me flush, and made me rave on to you, the innocent reader.
Firstly, I tend to have a sneaking suspicion that most department store regulars aren't human. I mean, you could be the only dude in the fishing aisle (during Winter), and sure enough, no matter what that regular wants, they'll stand right beside you. Well. that's really just a stereotype, but it does ring true for the bulk of major shopping outlets in West Virginia and Eastern Ohio. It's imperative that you keep this in mind while you hear my account of glory, heartbreak, and utter madness.
What smells worse than a batch of sun-cured mayonaise? A local Sam's Club (sister store of Walmart) that I visited recently. Sam's Club had a myriad of viable new computers that my family decided to check out because (a) you probably haven't noticed, but I've been without a decent computer for about a year, and (b) I will not sell my soul to Dell yet (an extra twenty bucks for a bloody floppy drive; cripes!). Anywho, while my parents were enamored with a horribly cheap, admittedly cruddy Compaq deal, I was pining for one of those AMD-loving "E Machines" that always seemed semi-attractive (I say semi-attractive because I doubt my family would risk enough dough for one of those sweet Alienware rigs). Anyways, this ace with thick glasses comes up next to me. Why, you ask? Apparently to sell me a copy of Windows XP. For reasons still beyond me, the kid thought that a good OS equates to being able to do decent drawings in Paint. He proceeded to make what I assume was a crude face on a nearby laptop, and he quipped, "See how more smoothly it runs?" Smoothly compared to what? Sunshine, you're preaching the XP gospel to a former ME user that had his PC's motherboard, fan, and power supply all spazz out at about the same time. Yeah, doesn't get anymore smooth than XP's Paint, my friend. Then it hit me, since EarthBound, I've been the same way.
I was in fourth grade at one of those school book fairs (I believe I purchased the Stinky Cheese Man that day), and I opened a little Boundtastic dialogue with some friends. They were going on an on about their Donkey Kong Country and their Mario Kart, but me, I had the game. After bragging that EarthBound was "The funniest game I've ever played", I urged one of my friends to give it a whirl. I happily lugged the thing to school next day with the mindset that I was going to let the game impact him the way it impacted me. Somewhere in my fourth grade heart, I hoped I'd get a little EarthBound clique action going around school. He seemed happy to receive the game, and my only worry was that he'd keep it for too long. Still, I was willing to part with the game for a couple of months because I knew he, like me, was an RPG beginner, and *cough* he was a novice compared to me.
After one day, he gave the game back. One blasted day. If I remember correctly, the conversation went a little something like this:
"Dude, why are you giving the game back so soon."
"The game sucks. I couldn't go anywhere, and it was hard to move around."
"Did you like it at all?"
"Uhh, it was kinda funny. Especially the cop saying 'Get your butt home pronto', but that was about it."
I proceeded to bury my face in my hands, take my game back, and realize that I was going to die alone.
Or not. Time went by, my main man Al Gore hooked us up the internet, and here we are. I have the ability to to ramble on more than the cigarette smoking man o' the Syndicate from the X-Files. All that while still maintaining the same "Oh yeah!" Kool Aid esque mentality as it pretains to love of the game. Before you know it, EarthBound will be a decade old, and I'll still be game. So what's it all about? It's about thinking you're alone. It's about living in a rural area wondering how many people out there can really relate to the game the same way you have. It's about looking at the number of petition signatures, and thinking to yourself, "Dang this here is something else for an old Nintendo boy like me."
Flash back to the present. I'm still at Sam's Club, and I walk to the gaming section. I walk up to the Gamecube kiosk knowing pretty much every big game it'll have to offer, but I still fire up a video of Capcom's Product Number 03 (P.N.03 or whatever it's going by these days), and I do so knowing (a) there is no PS2 kiosk, and the Xbox kiosk is out of order (go figure), and (b) Every passerby is going to at least peek at the bloody screen. Did it stop there? Heavens no. I stood by a stack of video games (Sam's Club was never that refined), and I noticed a young gamer scoping out some Gameboy Advance games. What do I do? Well, without knowing what type of games the boy was in, I picked up The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker, and I did so as if to show off. I didn't drop my jaw, and I didn't blurt out "OH SNAP, THIS GAME IS OFF THE HIZZLE!", but I picked up and stared at the game when I already knew it was great. It was as if I was running covert ops for Nintendo's advertising division.
This isn't an admission of guilt, and it isn't about me being hurt for not having the mindset of the mainstream fan. Flustered gaming fans can and will exhibit the previous qualities without even realizing it. From urging someone to sign a petiton for a sequel to having a psycho like me dominating a demo kiosk, we're all a little obsessive. That brings the issue back up to question. Are we guilty? No, we're gamers. So when you get weird looks for telling your friends that you're going to dial up Nintendo of America to demand some EarthBoundy love, recognize just what you are. When you throw in all of that money for those lovely EarthBound-related EBay items, realize what you've become. You're a gamer, sweatheart. You've been pining over the same game for almost a decade, and there's a great chance you'll never have anything to show for it. Game on.
Miketastic Debate Week Debacle: Article One
As a longtime Nintendo gamer, I, perhaps like yourself, have some of those strange "hardcore" gamer mannerisms. In retrospect, I've obsessed over far too many facets of gaming, and yes, I got jiggy with it. That's a phrase that should dropped out of the vernacular, but since I tend to live in the past, chances are, it has while I've been oblivious. Anywho, jiggyisms aside, below are a few accounts that made me blush, made me flush, and made me rave on to you, the innocent reader.
Firstly, I tend to have a sneaking suspicion that most department store regulars aren't human. I mean, you could be the only dude in the fishing aisle (during Winter), and sure enough, no matter what that regular wants, they'll stand right beside you. Well. that's really just a stereotype, but it does ring true for the bulk of major shopping outlets in West Virginia and Eastern Ohio. It's imperative that you keep this in mind while you hear my account of glory, heartbreak, and utter madness.
What smells worse than a batch of sun-cured mayonaise? A local Sam's Club (sister store of Walmart) that I visited recently. Sam's Club had a myriad of viable new computers that my family decided to check out because (a) you probably haven't noticed, but I've been without a decent computer for about a year, and (b) I will not sell my soul to Dell yet (an extra twenty bucks for a bloody floppy drive; cripes!). Anywho, while my parents were enamored with a horribly cheap, admittedly cruddy Compaq deal, I was pining for one of those AMD-loving "E Machines" that always seemed semi-attractive (I say semi-attractive because I doubt my family would risk enough dough for one of those sweet Alienware rigs). Anyways, this ace with thick glasses comes up next to me. Why, you ask? Apparently to sell me a copy of Windows XP. For reasons still beyond me, the kid thought that a good OS equates to being able to do decent drawings in Paint. He proceeded to make what I assume was a crude face on a nearby laptop, and he quipped, "See how more smoothly it runs?" Smoothly compared to what? Sunshine, you're preaching the XP gospel to a former ME user that had his PC's motherboard, fan, and power supply all spazz out at about the same time. Yeah, doesn't get anymore smooth than XP's Paint, my friend. Then it hit me, since EarthBound, I've been the same way.
I was in fourth grade at one of those school book fairs (I believe I purchased the Stinky Cheese Man that day), and I opened a little Boundtastic dialogue with some friends. They were going on an on about their Donkey Kong Country and their Mario Kart, but me, I had the game. After bragging that EarthBound was "The funniest game I've ever played", I urged one of my friends to give it a whirl. I happily lugged the thing to school next day with the mindset that I was going to let the game impact him the way it impacted me. Somewhere in my fourth grade heart, I hoped I'd get a little EarthBound clique action going around school. He seemed happy to receive the game, and my only worry was that he'd keep it for too long. Still, I was willing to part with the game for a couple of months because I knew he, like me, was an RPG beginner, and *cough* he was a novice compared to me.
After one day, he gave the game back. One blasted day. If I remember correctly, the conversation went a little something like this:
"Dude, why are you giving the game back so soon."
"The game sucks. I couldn't go anywhere, and it was hard to move around."
"Did you like it at all?"
"Uhh, it was kinda funny. Especially the cop saying 'Get your butt home pronto', but that was about it."
I proceeded to bury my face in my hands, take my game back, and realize that I was going to die alone.
Or not. Time went by, my main man Al Gore hooked us up the internet, and here we are. I have the ability to to ramble on more than the cigarette smoking man o' the Syndicate from the X-Files. All that while still maintaining the same "Oh yeah!" Kool Aid esque mentality as it pretains to love of the game. Before you know it, EarthBound will be a decade old, and I'll still be game. So what's it all about? It's about thinking you're alone. It's about living in a rural area wondering how many people out there can really relate to the game the same way you have. It's about looking at the number of petition signatures, and thinking to yourself, "Dang this here is something else for an old Nintendo boy like me."
Flash back to the present. I'm still at Sam's Club, and I walk to the gaming section. I walk up to the Gamecube kiosk knowing pretty much every big game it'll have to offer, but I still fire up a video of Capcom's Product Number 03 (P.N.03 or whatever it's going by these days), and I do so knowing (a) there is no PS2 kiosk, and the Xbox kiosk is out of order (go figure), and (b) Every passerby is going to at least peek at the bloody screen. Did it stop there? Heavens no. I stood by a stack of video games (Sam's Club was never that refined), and I noticed a young gamer scoping out some Gameboy Advance games. What do I do? Well, without knowing what type of games the boy was in, I picked up The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker, and I did so as if to show off. I didn't drop my jaw, and I didn't blurt out "OH SNAP, THIS GAME IS OFF THE HIZZLE!", but I picked up and stared at the game when I already knew it was great. It was as if I was running covert ops for Nintendo's advertising division.
This isn't an admission of guilt, and it isn't about me being hurt for not having the mindset of the mainstream fan. Flustered gaming fans can and will exhibit the previous qualities without even realizing it. From urging someone to sign a petiton for a sequel to having a psycho like me dominating a demo kiosk, we're all a little obsessive. That brings the issue back up to question. Are we guilty? No, we're gamers. So when you get weird looks for telling your friends that you're going to dial up Nintendo of America to demand some EarthBoundy love, recognize just what you are. When you throw in all of that money for those lovely EarthBound-related EBay items, realize what you've become. You're a gamer, sweatheart. You've been pining over the same game for almost a decade, and there's a great chance you'll never have anything to show for it. Game on.
