-------------------------------------------------- Fatherhood and Videogames -------------------------------------------------- ... Or, "Reflections While Playing Fallout Over the Holidays" ... Having been (like many of my generation) something of a slacker in my youth, I became a father rather later in life than is customary. I view this as taking a responsible approach to irresponsibility. Given that for much of my early adulthood I could barely support myself, it was probably just as well I avoided the added burden of having to also support someone else. That my precarious state of financial affairs was due as much to choice as to circumstance was, well, purely circumstantial. Despite having avoided fatherhood for so long, I nevertheless managed to develop some expectations about what it would entail. Some of these proved correct - sleep deprivation, loss of freedom, and added stress, for example - and some very much did not. One of those assumptions was that I would have a receptive audience with whom to share the cultural treasures of my youth. Substitute "receptive" with "highly selective" and you'd have a far more accurate assessment. Winnie the Pooh? Archaic nonsense for babies. Peanuts comics? Waste of time. Old Bugs Bunny cartoons? OK, I guess, if Johhny Test wasn't on Teletoon right then. All those great old Christmas TV specials? Jim Carrey was a better Grinch, and Rudolph ain't even on the radar. Star Trek? Unsuitable for anyone except boring old people, and who is that ridiculous looking space elf? (not sure I ever got over that one). Star Wars was probably the only piece of my cultural luggage that he wanted on his voyage. Fair enough, and I really ought to have expected it. After all, how many times had my own father tried and failed to interest me in Beau Geste? One of the sacred duties of childhood is establishing an identity for yourself distinct from that of your parents. This is often said to happen in the teenage years, but in my experience it starts to happen a lot sooner. And in this my son was remarkably successful. What I could not have foreseen was how much it would work the other way, which is to say the extent to which I became a receptive audience for my son's cultural touchstones. Although my son has long put such things behind him, I can to this day recite the lyrics to the theme song from Spliced, and describe the life cycle of the Bionicles. To take a couple of examples. Probably his greatest cultural gift to me were the videogames. Apart from a brief but intense engagement with Myst and Riven in the 1990s, I'd never done any gaming at all, and I'm quite certain that had I not become a father I never would have. But my son was drawn to videogames at an early age, and spent many happy hours gaming away on age-appropriate fare like Mario, Sonic, Lego and when he got a bit older, Minecraft, which was the hot new thing back then. Which meant, as an engaged Dad, I spent a lot of time with them too. Some of those Minecraft modpacks were nuts. But it wasn't until he'd progressed to Portal that I really sat up and took notice. Games that were at once ingenious, retro-futuristic, and hilarious? I was hooked, and once I'd played through those I needed more. Well Dad, you liked Portal? Here's a game called The Stanley Parable you might enjoy. Done with that? Well I know you think you don't like first person shooters, but I think you might like Bioshock. Or maybe an RPG, like Mass Effect? ... and so it went. Sometimes I'd go my own way, like the time I played Far: Lone Sails, following which my advisor recommended I check out the OG of such games, LIMBO. I liked them both. And now I'm onto the very first Fallout game, that my son thoughtfully gave to me for Christmas, which will no doubt take me twice as long to complete as it took him, as I fumble my way through Shady Sands, Vault 15 and so on. To tell the truth I find Fallout somewhat less engaging than many of the other games I've played, but still interesting as an historical artifact of an earlier era of gaming. Nevertheless, I should be proud - clearly, my son feels I'm ready for the Classics now. He's taught me well.