Alright, so I have this thing for video games. Call it Asian upbringing, call it parental rebellion. When I was ten, I’d go to a friend’s house and watch him play Kid Icarus and Metroid on his Nintendo, mesmerized.
“Dad, can I have a Nintendo?”
“No, you should be studying.”
Months later…
“Hooray, it’s Christmas!”
“Open your present, Ernie.”
“Is it a Nintendo? Is it a Nintendo?”
“No, even better.”
Unwraps Christmas present
“Uhmm… Dad? This isn’t a Nintendo.”
“I know. It’s an Encyclopedia.”
“This is only volume 2. Where are all the other volumes?”
“Too expensive.”
“Oh.”
Video games have always been my escape. When my parents were fighting, when there were issues at school, when I was dealing with the whole sexuality thing, I went back to them. Some habits die hard, I guess.
This year’s video game of the moment? Dance Dance Revolution. DDR is one of those things every trendy Asian kid in California knows about and has some type of experience with, similar to going to a rave or rebelling against your parental units. In case you’ve been living under a rock, DDR is a music-based video game where, instead of a joystick, there are giant floor panels marked with arrows. The arrows come up on the screen, and you step on the correct arrow panel to the beat. Kind of like karaoke, except you’re dancing.
The songs, for the most part, are cheesy Japanese pop tunes about lost love or dancing to the beat. Anyone who plays the game is so concentrated on stepping in the right place that they leave their hands to their sides, so it looks like they’re doing a bad Asian Irish jig. And usually the DDR machine is flanked by flashy, multi-colored lights and placed in an easily visible area of the arcade so everyone taking a break from their miniature golf can point and laugh. A lot.
A dollar a game. That’s how much it costs. You get such a workout playing a couple of songs that you’re out of breath by the time the game is over, reminding everyone watching you how chubby you are playing video games instead of, say, taking a walk. It’s embarrassing.
And I’m totally addicted to this game.
It all started innocently enough. You move to a new city; you don’t know anyone. Hey, there’s a video arcade nearby; I think I’ll go! What’s this? A new video game? Hey, I like music! So I started going a couple of times a week and putting in more money.
Now I’m at the point where I set the difficulty to hard and play both sides at once. I can draw a little audience and get applause from the white people and dirty looks from the Asian ones. The kids at the arcade know me.
It’s like being a heroin junkie, except with cheesy J-Pop music. God help me. Or at least help me find the nearest DDR machine.