The biggest misconception around about being an
adult gamer, and a reviewer to boot, is that we no longer feel any
shame about any game we play. But yet, I have to admit now, there’s
one that I have to force myself to admit to playing.
I mocked the game when I first saw it. I said
that only a lunatic would play it repeatedly. But here I am,
surreptitiously plunking token after token at it in the arcade. I
long to play it at someone’s house. I think about playing it even
in the middle of “respectable” games.
My name’s Rick, and I’m a Dance Dance
Revolution freak.
Some people are cool with this – it’s great
exercise. It requires precise timing. It’s actually innovative.
At least, that’s what we all tell each other, down at the nearby DDR
Extreme machine. I told my best friend, who is becoming the best
man at my upcoming wedding. He demanded that I give up calling
myself a gamer right then and there. He isn’t the only one.
My descent was slow but sure. I first hated
the game, like so many others who first try it. It didn’t help that
I started on a five foot song right off the bat. But I was tempted
when I ran across a DDR Max 2 machine, and I heard someone playing
Sobakasu. “Hey, isn’t that the theme to Rurouni Kenshin?” this
anime fan wondered. Famous last words.
It started off slowly enough. I first stuck to
stuff I knew, like Duran Duran’s Ordinary World. I then started
playing the J-Pop songs, also having a weakness for that. I’d
always rationalize it – “Sure, I’m playing Candy©,
but I’d listen to Kosaka Riyu on my own.” Or “Sure, it’s bubblegum,
but it’s fun to tease Sara (not her real name) with
WWW.Blonde
Girl by Jenny Rom.” I mean, it’s not like I enjoyed listening to
any of the various versions of Paranoia, for heaven’s sake.
But the cracks started to form. Even as I
laughed at people who played tons of DDR, I clapped for them for
clearing a stage in Oni mode. On one hand, I would proclaim my
thumbs were all I need. On the other hand, I started learning the
step patters for Nori Nori Nori. I gave sidelong glances at people
shadow dancing even as I lip-synced my way through Break Down.
All of that, though, I could cover like a
craven coward hiding betting stubs from his wife. No, everyone’s
ultimate betrayal is themselves. I gave accepted half-hearted
answers when people questioned me about shadow dancing to Dynamite
Rave. I explained Midnite Blaze as practice for rapid jumping. I
could even explain why I, the rock fan, could be seen dancing around
– I was just fidgety, fidgety with a passable rhythm. But you can
lie to yourself only so long.
In the end, I came to admit the truth because
of a trance. Or Trance… I heard someone play Healing Vision, and
gave it a whirl. I’d never listen to Trance, or enjoy it, I told
myself. But as the pace picked up (Healing Vision is one of those
psychotic variable beat songs), and yet my feet were falling right
in place, I wondered what had come over me. And when I went to
tackle Healing Vision Angelic Remix, with a beat count that tops out
at over 200 beats per minute, and found myself addicted to it… I
couldn’t hide it anymore. I mean, I’ve been pricing out DDR CDs to
finally listen to Healing Vision Angelic Remix at home. I have to
stop lying to myself.
I don’t get it, to be honest. I don’t enjoy
dancing on my own. I hate going to clubs. I’ve got the groove
capabilities of your average Irish-American that isn’t being hired
by Riverdance (namely, none). I got bored of the old Power Pad
after about a half hour of play. I even have a balky ankle from an
old basketball injury. I should be writhing in pain after a trio of
DDR songs.
Truth is, I am, but I keep getting back on.
I’ve started doing comparisons between water, Powerade, and Gatorade
to see what gets me back on my feet the strongest. I’m admitting to
friends that I’m comparison shopping for pads for home. I’m trying
to figure out how I can play DDR and another game on another system
simultaneously.
Part of this is just an apology right now to
all the people that I’ve given hell to for simply admitting what I
was trying to deny all this time. I had no right to be a hypocrite
about it. Part of this is also a thanks to Bill Saez, who motivated
me to get off my lazy rump and start getting into the groove in the
first place. And part of this, I guess, is to get us all to get
over ourselves and just enjoy the game, no matter how different it
is from the classics we knew.
It’s not using my thumbs, but the game is still
a game.
