A collection of collection hobbies
When I was a kid, I dreamed about having “stuff”. For a kid in the 80’s, having stuff was a huge sign of social cred, and something we all wanted. The latest toys, the coolest gadgets, that GT Performer bike where you could spin the handlebars and never get your brake lines tangled, the robot that could say random shit to you and bring drinks from one room to another, etc. Two particular types of stuff were my main jam back then: video games and board games. I remember getting an NES and feeling just awe that this marvel of technology was actually in my house, completely unaware of what it must have taken my parents to be able to afford it (we didn’t have much money growing up). We also did have a few board games in the house, and while I loved playing them, there were seldom times where we’d actually get to do so. My friends and I would more often play outside or play video games. I remember some kids actually had real arcade games in their homes, which was the peak of cool. I could never imagine such extravagance.
Fast forward to around 2010. A friend of mine reposted a for sale ad from a buddy of his for pro audio gear, and at the time I was very active in bands so I hit this guy up and went to buy some stuff. When I get to his house, I see that he has a basement full of pinball machines! We chatted a bunch, he let me play some games, and we really hit it off. Over time, we became friends. His name is Ed, and he taught me all about these machines, and eventually convinced me to buy one of my own and fix it up. Long story short (too late), I ended up deep in the hobby with multiple pinball and video arcade machines. I loved having these in my house, and would spend time playing through many classics that I never had the money to play through during the arcade days of the 80’s and 90’s. At present, I have roughly 10 video arcade machines and 3 pinball machines. I stopped buying and selling about 7 or 8 years ago due to being priced out of the hobby, as people started charging high prices for games and newcomers to the hobby started paying them.
Rewind a bit to the early 2000’s, a website popped up called Tanga which would run deals on mystery boxes of board games. My older brother had started collecting games, and though he lived in another state we’d play when we saw one another. He got me into collecting, though I’d only really get games I had an interest in playing. Over the years, I’ve amassed a respectable collection of games, and still collect to this day. My collection is somewhere around 300, though I haven’t done a full count in some time. I must admit, I only buy games I have an intention of playing, regardless of whether it’s the hot game this year or whatnot. Most of my purchases are based on either recommendation or because I’ve played the game already and enjoyed it.
You may be asking yourself “OK, so? What’s your point?”. Relax, I’m getting there. We all know I’m long winded, so saddle up and take a ride.
I have a room in my home called “The Arcade”, that only houses my collection, and it just sits there collecting dust. I have two large shelving units packed with board games doing much the same. Both suffer from the same ailment: a lack of players. As I eventually found out, once I was deep in my arcade hobby, the best part of going to the arcade as a kid wasn’t the games themselves as much as the experience of playing games with others. It was an experience to go to an arcade and play head to head in Mortal Kombat, or take turns trying for high scores in Galaga, or even playing a co-op like Mario Brothers. It was a social thing as much as it was a gaming thing, and it made it truly wonderful. A friend of mine who also collects would have monthly tournaments at his home, and these captured some of that magic. I wanted that magic too, but for whatever reason I could never make it happen.
The same goes for board games. I can run a bunch of them solo, but the real fun is enjoying them with others. My wife will indulge me and play a game every so often, but it’s not really her thing. My kids would much rather sit at their PCs and play video games with their friends, and I can’t blame them either. It’s much the same problem I had as a kid, so one would think I’d have learned the lesson by now, but I’m a stubborn fucker and don’t apparently learn all that well sometimes.
NOW you may be saying “Oh, I get it, it’s a ‘woe is me, I have no friends’ post.”. Well, not exactly. It’s nobody’s fault here, and I’m not gonna bitch that driving way out to my house and putting up with me for a few hours on a weeknight to play a board game or two isn’t high up on peoples’ priority list. That’s not to say that nobody I know plays, but almost every one of them either lives to far away to get together for a game night, or is too busy and we can’t match up schedules.
Anyway, my point here isn’t really bitching about not playing games, that time has passed. My question is this: When is the point where people make the call to abandon a hobby that clearly isn’t panning out for them? When is it time to say “ya know what, why keep spending money on games I might never play? Why not just sell it all off and be done with it?”. I’m feeling it more and more lately, and while I love having arcade games in my house, and I do fire one up to play every few months, I don’t know that it justifies holding onto them and taking up space in the house. Same with board games. Many of them sit in my home office where I can gaze at them longingly and read their rulebooks, knowing many of them will likely never hit the table again. Am I really THAT type of collector now? Am I the guy who just wants it to have it, to stare at the shelves and feel like it somehow makes me more complete? Do I keep them just so people can think I’m cool cuz I have cool stuff, like how I was as a kid in the 80’s? Have I truly not evolved past that point?
The truth is, I don’t really know. I suppose those are all plausible, and it’s certainly possible that I’ve just been lying to myself and others all these years. I wonder if all of this just points to a deeper existential problem that I’m avoiding dealing with. It’s hard to say, really. Will I hold onto these things and hope things change, while they rot in a room in my house, or will I pass them to those who might enjoy them the way I never could? In the end, I’m not sure what I’ll do, I just wish the answer was more forthcoming.
Unwanted Criticisms 