I just got back from a brief vacation in Florida and I wanted to unpack my thoughts and feelings from a recent experience I had at a videogame bar.
About a year ago on a previous trip to the Sunshine State, I was recommended by a girl in a comic shop to a popular hangout up the road where you could pay a cheap $10 fee to play as many retro games as you wanted. Sadly, I was on my way back home and didn't have the time to explore this opportunity. Well that all changed this weekend when I happened to be within reasonable distance to this barcade. To start, it was an enjoyable experience, lots of old gaming cabinets with games like Street Fighter, Galaga, Donkey Kong, even some pinball machines among the mix. Where my dive into nostalgia began was with the announcement at the front door that they'd be hosting a Super Smash Bros. (Ultimate) tournament. My heart leaped but then immediately sank. A little back story, while in high school, I was an avid competitive Smash player. While being, at best, middle of the pack to bottom tier depending on the generation, I do consider my time on the competitive scene in a rather positive light. I got to travel to places I never expected, made friendships with some cool people, and most of all, had fun trying to play a game I loved on a higher level.
However, as I looked on at the guys in the room playing away on Smash Ultimate, I could only breath a long sigh. Those days are long behind me and all I will have is nostalgia. I can never go back to that lifestyle again, for the best, sure, I'll take that. Taking a closer look at the demographic, it was clear, even among the non-Smash players playing other games or running the barcade, that they were my age: early to mid 30's who just couldn't let the game go.
Not here to knock anyone who still plays videogames in adulthood, Lord knows, I still do, but there was just something to be said about overall appearance. They fit the mold for members of videogame subculture. Unkept, a bit soulless in the eyes, and a sole love and drive for the game they were playing. All I could think of was these guys were still being children of nostalgia. The existence of this barcade made it obvious, but it became more evident when I reminisced my time as a Smash player and how I've left that life behind me, but these guys haven't. They've kept it as a center of their lives which leads me to my next point that nostalgia can be a potent poison. It is the lotus of Greek mythology trapping people in time while the world outside flies by.
Do I wish I could get back into the scene again? Some days I do, purely for the sake of feeling competitive again and the social aspect (I can't escape being a gamer is a part of my identity), but like with all communities, the ones who stand the test of time are the most grotesque of that subculture. They aren't the kind of people a respectable person would want to hang with or risk becoming one of them. I can't recapture that lightning I felt back then and that's ok. It's a great testament to why I see reboot and spinoff cinema keep failing. The children of nostalgia can't let a great product of their subculture go. They'd rather try to recapture that same lightning which will never strike twice, instead of trying to capture new lightning. As for me and my life, I'm ok with never being able to recapture that lightning from my ol' Smash days. I have a new lightning I'm trying to tame. I will always have those fond memories of another time, but I must remember that the future is far more exciting. So remember guys, don't eat the lotus of nostalgia and seek to catch a new lightning as it falls from the sky.
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