(This is the second part in an ongoing series designed to focus on why I’ve been getting more and more uncomfortable with games recently. The first Game Time can be read here.)

Yeah whatever, just call me when dinner’s readyI feel like my generation dodged an attention span bullet. Things like online play, Twitter, smart phones, and the internet in general would have pretty well destroyed me as an impressionable little kid. I didn’t love playing soccer or baseball (for the few years that I did), but I appreciate that my parents gave me the chance. I was (even more) awkward and shy, and this whit of forced social interaction was enough of a developmental kick to get me into things I hadn’t considered. I can’t say that I hated the experience. I can say that, given my natural inclinations, I would’ve gone into my room with an iPhone and never come out. At least with the NES, I was limited to what was physically on the shelf.

As an adult, part of me feels that the only thing keeping from falling down that chasm is money. I’m not what you would call affluent. The majority of the games I’ve purchased in the past three months have been cheap iPhone games. This might seem strange, what with my previously stalwart assertion that iPhone games are not real games but in fact total dick. Yes, well. I retract.

My last “haul,” circa four months agoOr rather, my wallet has. My parents aren’t buying the games for me anymore. Granted, they haven’t done this in about a decade. But during that time, they paid for my education and my apartment as I used my freelance income to stock up on gameables. So indirectly, yes, my parents were supporting my habit. After finishing college, I became “independent” and realized “Holy shit, I don’t really need Tales of Symphonia, do I!” This has done a lot in forcing me to examine how and why I play games.

In connection with this, I had an epiphany when I first moved to Japan: If I don’t buy the newest consoles, the world will not end. My skin will not mottle and flake, nor will my body burst into flames until I am but a charred skeleton writhing on the floor of the Geo. As a side effect, I will actually have more free time! Free time to pursue subsidiary hobbies like writing, learning to play the guitar, or daguerreotyping. Time to hang out with friends and have a conversation without worrying about being home in time for Dynamis or to play another 20 hours of Velvet Fairy Densetsu so I can review it for something-or-other. I spent a Saturday night last month playing chess in a bar with a coworker, and it was the most rewarding “game” experience I’ve had in a while.

¥10 for Bujingai is ¥20 too muchTime is also not on my side. Between working, going out, and driving Brandon to soccer practice, there just isn’t a lot of time left in the day to invest myself in games that way I used to. I have one day off a week, and have been finding it considerably more difficult to get into new games with only a single free day a week. This stands in stark contrast to the weekly three-day respites afforded to English majors at Ohio University.

I’m only even writing this right now because I couldn’t get up the enthusiasm to play anything on my shelf tonight. I may not have a lot of new games, but there’s a mountainous backlog just sitting there. The thing is that most of those are RPGs, and after dropping 20-40 hours per title and then taking an extended break, I have no idea where I’m going, what my goals are, or even who these characters are. And if everything is that forgettable to begin with, do I really want to dive back in?

Perhaps the reason I’m so unwilling to escape into games these days is a sign that I need to find new outlets of escape. Don’t take this to mean that I’m writing off games as an instrument of enjoyable escapism; I’m still well aware that when done right, these things are magical. For all the anti-nerd sentiment I express both in the blog and on the podcast, the fact remains that I have a lot of love for games and, once in a blue moon, anime. I sometimes feel frustrated and alienated when I deal with the fans of these things, but this doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re bad. It’s been surprisingly difficult having to remind myself of this every so often.

GET MONEY GET PAID (Note: not real money)Is it possible that I’m using my limited disposable income to rationalize this recent disinterest in games? I mean, even if I had the money to buy every game I wanted right now, I can’t say for sure whether or not I’d dive right into that pile. Maybe taking such a long break from playing new releases has made a permanent dent in my interest in the hobby. Maybe I’m interpretting it the wrong way. Maybe I would still love to use all of my free time to play new titles I’m interested in if I had the time and money. The only way to know for sure is to set a goal for myself, something like “I want to have enough money to casually blow on a dozen games by March.” Then maybe I’ll get some hard data here.

In the meantime, I’m going to continue approaching games cautiously, but deliberately. I might even scrounge up the change under the couch and try to buy New Super Mario Brothers Wii! It seems to meet my requirements right now.

Do you feel pressured to buy new games? Does missing out on a new game create a feeling of being “left out,” or is it something you feel confident you’ll get to when you can? Do you game with the same (or comparable) regularity as when you were a kid? For those involved with the industry, how has your work affected your interest and play habits?