As this Mother’s Day weekend comes to a close it afforded me a few opportunities to look into the past. We reveled in the memories of my parents first date, I was elated to learn how my grandfather courted my grandmother, and I even learned some of the stories of my immigrant father as he first came to America. While I enjoyed the reminiscent moments, chatting about topics in days long past the joy I was looking most forward to was raiding and collecting some of the games of my youth from my parent’s house.
Ranging from the first NES up to the Playstation 2 some of the best consoles of my childhood (and arguably of all time) lie collecting dust in my parent’s basement, forgotten with each new generational console release. I had intended to collect these games and bring them up to my apartment but, the fast-paced nature of a weekend back home let this opportunity to collect loot slip away from me. The difficulty of foraging through boxes for old outdated AC adapters, controllers sans joysticks and those memory inducing red, yellow and white cables drained the energy out of me on a Sunday Afternoon. I loaded up my car and headed for home without my prizes, defeated.
But outside of the unofficial gaming museum that my parents had allowed to form in their basement, what really happens to these old consoles when their time is at an end? Do we simply trade them into Gamestop for the $0.99 they will give us in return for them? Do you allow them to collect dust in an unofficial shrine in your home, looking at them fondly every so often that you pass them? Do you pass them onto the youth now, hoping that they can create similar memories using your devices how you did in your younger days? Though consistently these are the strategies most commonly employed by gamers it’s hard to admit them as being hardly adequate. These console’s that have done so much for us who played them deserve more than some obscure sendoff into the aether.
I’d like to think that when their time comes all of our consoles could retire to some nice seedy bar, where they can have drinks to their heart’s content. The bar is owned by the Magnavox Oddessy who looks fondly on as all his progeny gather and discuss their escapades. The sega consoles drink away their sorrows at the thoughts of the great things their consoles could have done. Nintendo’s many consoles on their vegan diets are drinking a cranberry juice as they know the best solutions to longevity in this field. Sony and Microsoft have to be broken up from fighting every now and again as they bicker over who’s the best. But overall they’re all members of the same fraternity, one that provides a service and should be honored and respected even when their time comes to a close.
So the next time I get the chance, I plan on collecting up those old games and turning them on. Perhaps I can beat some of those old games I needed my father’s help to best in my youth. Maybe I’ll even find some of the patience and attention to detail that can be seen as missing in some of the games today. My only hope is that if you all are presented with the same opportunity you all give this idea a try instead of just trading in the games or turning them into scrap.
<p>A multi-ethnic, racially confused hermaphrodite commonly referred to by his online alias “A Bad Password” – real name Kevin – slightly selfishly and completely uncreatively named the gaming news and related content website ABadPassword.com after himself.</p>