FLoitus Interruptus

Friday I ended what was a craptastic two week stint of stress and sobriety.  I was worn down, beat.  I had deprived my console of electric current during much of this time.  I was really looking forward to kicking back, drinking a few beers, playing a few video games, and having a few laughs.

After I got the kids to bed that night, I peed.   Because you know you never want to start a long trip without peeing first.  I grabbed a beer out of the fridge.  Then grabbed another beer out of the fridge.  Then realized I’d already swallowed a few ounces out of the first, so I thought it best to grab a third.  Because you know when you’re on a long trip you don’t want to run out of beer.  I plopped in my comfy gaming chair, energized my tv, and fired up my 360.  I donned my headset, pulled the mic close to my lips so the full force of my burps could be admired by all, grabbed my controller in both hands, and leaned forward slightly into my optimum gaming position.  As my console loaded I wondered what my friends would be playing, what sorts of idiocy lay in store.  My youngest offspring had added defecation to her bed time routine.  So I was later than intended.  I worried I might be too late to get into a game, that I might have to wait my turn for an empty spot in a lobby.  I was excited to be playing.  I couldn’t wait to get started.

My excitement was short lived.  I hadn’t missed a thing.  I had five friends online.  Two were playing a genre in which I don’t normally dabble.  One was in an eighteen month old sandbox, one watching Netflix, and one was away.  Because sometimes when you get your mind right before going on a long trip you just want to stare at the pretty lights and giggle at the hairs on your pinky finger, you know, “away”. 

I sat back, cracked beer number two, and waited.  I’m not the only parent on my friend’s list.  Maybe my playmates also had to wait for their kids to drop a deuce.  Twenty minutes brought in another Netflix customer and someone else who played a game I don’t currently own.  There was nothing going on.  The only idiocy I discovered was that there was no idiocy.  I loaded Borderlands, grabbed a couple more beers, then went off to Pandora to drive over scags, an activity that always makes me smile.

In my previous post I admitted to reaching a gaming midlife crisis of sorts.  I wondered if I had reached that magical age at which I might stop gaming.  I concluded that I had not.  Instead I decided that I was simply bored with today’s offerings of regurgitated sequels and half assed copy cats.  The crappy state of the gaming industry is simply not holding my interest.  I’ve since come to realize I also experience other, secondary effects of the gaming doldrums as well.  The Friday I described serves as a good example.

In previous phases of my console gaming life I’ve always had “a game” that stood out as the crown jewel of my collection.  That game was unique and special in that it provided new experiences not prevalent in previous titles.  That game held my attention beyond my entertainment center.  I would constantly search for tips and tricks or study maps and weapon statistics for that game.  I’d pee on the carpet at the very mention of new content for that game.  That game stayed in my console’s disk tray because when I turned on my 360, I turned in on to play that game.  Because of the reasons I mentioned in my previous blog, that game no longer exists for me.

To compensate, my primary gaming focus has shifted.  Instead of looking forward to playing that game as I did in the past, I now look forward to the online gaming experience.  Thanks to my friends list, talking trash, slinging good natured sarcasm, or describing one’s fungal ailments all have significantly more pull on me than any one game.  Some nights I find what passes thru my crappy, old Microsoft headset far more entertaining than anything Activision, EA or THQ have funded.  My enjoyment of any game is more dependent on who’s online, how many folks I can pull into one game lobby, and the average sobriety level of the group than it is on the game itself.

Unfortunately I’m not the only dipshit on my friend’s list affected by gaming monotony.  Almost all of them are.  They all compensate as well, but in different ways.  There’s one faction that quickly chews through titles, constantly searching for something that doesn’t suck, but mostly feeding the used game market.  My segment is the one that only buys a few AAA sequels, not because we expect to love them, but because we know what to expect, and because we know they will afford us the most social opportunities both on and off of our friends lists.  The last, fastest growing group are the folks who find something else to do, the ones who quit showing up to game.

Sounds kind of pathetic and depressing, huh.  Yet I’m not sad.  Sarcastic and cynical maybe.  Overall I’m a glass half full sort of person.  In fact I’m the kind of guy who can find a way to have fun at a funeral.  I should be able to muster some fun playing games.  I’ve been thinking of things I can do improve my outlook.

But in the meantime, my pool of regular gaming friends has been shrinking.  We game together less often.  The Friday I described above occurs with increasing frequency.  Not only do I lack a that game, I am also being deprived of my friends list.  That sucks more than being bored.