My kindred left the apartment to finally live somewhere else recently.
He’s not far, so he plans on visiting every Saturday to come and eat and get some support from us.
He left behind the Sega Genesis retro console that he never actually plugged in.
I’m very tempted to give it a try on my HDTV, or maybe even the monitor, despite not having a sound input.
I already have a Sega emulator on my Mac. Sonic 2 is strangely addicting. I mean, as someone who’s had trouble enjoying video games universally the way I did when I was 19.
I can probably play any of those games whenever I want, but the retro console itself is so damn nifty.
It’s got retro style controllers, is shaped like the system we used to have, and probably has some sweet-ass menus.
I really want to plug it in….but I know he might consider it his, despite barely dabbling in video games that past decade or so.
I want to respect the items he claims to own. Even if he never sees me use it.
I want to resist the appeal of a a retro gaming experience tacked on with things that elicit extra nostalgic satisfaction.
The theory of purpose-result friction made it easier for me to not give it a try. I can just enjoy Sonic 2 without the things I associated it with when younger.
And it made it less hard for me to feel disgusted by giving a damn about what family thinks I might be doing with “barely owned” objects lying around the apartment.
I should send him a text about the device. And go wild if he tells me I can use it. So many video games to try out, maybe I’ll actually like one of them the way I love about 7 or 8 other video games I currently have access to.
Or maybe he’ll ask to take it, despite not owning an HDTV in his new bedroom. Maybe he’ll set it up where his roommates can use it.
My sister wrote about the Sega Genesis in her memoirs when she was in 2nd grade.
Oh, I’d really like to go back to failing at Chemical Plant Zone,
and somehow making my way to Casino Night.
I’ve never been to a casino, since I’ve never had the right to waste oh so much money.
It’s tempting to use things that you didn’t pay for, or even ask for,
just like that retro gaming console.
It doesn’t feel too selfish, to give an unused gift a purpose.
But I would hope that other people could get less cheeky on the adrenaline of swiping such a trinket.
Objects lend themselves to the potential for a purpose,
finding what that should be make us proudly nervous.