Play N Trade

When it comes to addictions, they say you always commit to memory your first time. That moment that you give into temptation, that instant that changes your life for ever.
My first time is still clear in my mind to this day, and is something that I assume I will never forget. It occurred with my Father back in the late 70’s. I am sure that is how it started for most and might be a familiar story. I was young and impressionable, looking to him for guidance and affirmation. One afternoon he took me upstairs with a crazy excitement in his eyes, anxious to show me something he said he knew I wanted. Boy, I had no idea just how much I did.
We stayed up almost the entire night, well past my bed time, partaking in our new obsession. We eventually emerged with dark circles under our blood red eyes, hungry and somewhat out of touch with reality. The very next night, we came back to try and relive the high from that initial fix. And did so for at least a month straight, putting off chores, homework and friends in order to satisfy our growing desires. For you see, we were both addicted, we both wanted, no dare I say we both needed to get our fix… that fix that could only come from our shiny new Atari 2600.
Asteroids, Pac Man, Night Driver… the flavor did not matter; all we wanted was to feel the smooth rubber of the joystick in our hands and the cramps in our thumbs from continuous pressing of that one little red button.
That was the beginning of a long journey for me, one that I still trek, one that I still struggle with. I found out later my Father’s addiction eventually ended with the 2600, his internal self control stronger then mine. His initial dependence was born out on the streets, in the arcades… Pac Man, was his vice… then he switched to the Ms. The sex didn’t matter to him, he just wanted to eat those pills and get them ghosts.
The 2600 was my gateway machine; eventually I needed more power, more games and more pixels. I grew tired of only having one button to push. I eventually moved from that simple machine to ones more with stronger graphics and visuals. The Commodore 64 introduced me to «Summer Games», «Load Runner» and «Bird vs. Dr. J» forming a continuous need to play pixilated virtual sports to this day; Nintendo brought a strange Italian Plumber and his brother into my home, wanting me to journey to a land of living mushrooms in order to rescue a far off Princess. Through the SNES I was introduced to the shady Ryu and his ring of violent Street Fighting friends. The Sega addiction brought countless hours of hiding away in a basement, lacing up the virtual ice skates, trying to make Gretzky’s head bleed, or spin a Hedgehog around a fantastical world of loops, slides and jumps. The Playstation sent shivers down my entire body and soul as I ventured to defeat a growing resident evil.
X-​box, Playstation 2, the 360, their releases blurred together… each one bringing new feelings of immersion, each one my new escape from reality. They all promised to be better, more exhilarating then the next. Taking me to far away lands, with the goal of saving a universe, when in actuality I could not even save myself from my growing desires of virtual domination.
So this addiction is not something new, my friend, but something I have lived and battled with for close to 30 years. It is why I had to stop in at Play N Trade on the way home from work yesterday. I needed a new fix. I needed it now.
The dealer behind the counter was friendly, informed and prompt. Sure he might not of had everything for everyone, but he had what I needed. He knew I was a game junkie, and didn’t pass any judgments on my selection. Sure, this wasn’t his «type» of game, and he wasn’t really into them, but it was good he said. I would enjoy it.
And I did I enjoy it, I felt excitement as I got home and opened my new, but temporary vice… at least I enjoyed it for a time. Yet with any addiction, I found that I was already looking for the next high score.