Dance Dance Maternal Revolution

I've reposted my previous 'column' about Dance Dance Revolution, my love for games and... my mother. It's still a bit of a weird story I guess.

Good news by the way; Dancing Stage (DDR's European equivalent) is finally heading for the PlayStation 2. About time as well... Kylie Minogue is already killing me in last year's Party Edition.

I have been playing videogames for about 15 years now. Well, even longer if the little Pong-machine I played on my ultra-small black and white television counts as well. My first console (sorry, I wasn't a computer-freak, I just wanted to play) was a NES. At that time the console of choice at the playground. I had played Super Mario Bros. at a friend's place and I was hooked. Even though I kept jumping into that first hole after the first secret 1Up.

When I got home that day, I expressed my sentiments towards such a device to my parents, and within moments a money saving-scheme was set up. As you might guess, that scheme was going to take ages to near completion. Luckily for me my grandparents found out as well. An old glass pickle-jar was modified into a transparent piggy-bank and thanks to the generosity of my grandparents in particular, the jar was filled up rather quickly.

Then one day my father agreed to pay the remainder of the money and that late afternoon I was literally shaking in anticipation as I walked down the street, the big bulky "Nintendo Entertainment System Action Pak" (Yes, the one with Super Mario Bros., Duck Hunt and Zapper) safely wrapped within my pre-teenage arms. Now before I'm getting truly sentimental here; I'll cut to the chase. I was deeply in love with the system. My little sister was intrigued by it, but in the end still preferred her Barbie-dolls. My father only wanted to shoot the dog in Duck Hunt (didn't we all), but my mother...

Getting her to even pay attention to my accomplishments was already vastly more difficult than any of Hercules' labors.

"Mom! Come quickly I've reached Bowser!"
"-Oh, that's nice dear. Don't forget; dinner's ready in about 15 minutes."

The rare times that my mother even touched a controller was when she desperately needed to clean the environment of my trusty NES.

Fast forward 15 years. Videogames have become more than a pastime to me, they're also part of my work. My sister has lost all interest (except for lengthy Final Fantasy FMVs). My father only wants to shoot the Red Guys in time in Time Crisis 2, and my mother... Still doesn't understand a thing about games and still only touches controllers (currently ten of them) when she needs to clean. And although she knows it's 'work' now, she still hates to see me spending money on it. Well, that's your average non-understanding mother then.

So a few weeks back I was traversing the shopping area in town (walking through the same street, picturing myself with the heavy box clasped within my arms), when my eye caught something extraordinary in the 'chained' game shop... A PSX dancing mat... And another...

Ridiculously low priced as well. Synapses became active, gamer-reflexes started to twitch... "Hmmm, I should be able afford both, well actually not, But hey.... The shop at the other side of town has Dancing Stage EuroMix... Original price though. Wasn't there a DisneyMix around somewhere...?"

Moments later I was again walking down the street, only this time two boxes clamped within my arms. A quick trip across town got me two Dancing Stage games as well. Overjoyed with finally having the means to play Dance Dance Revolution in my own home, it then hit me; the final hurdle that was my mom. I was already thinking of a ton of excuses to justify my purchases, but I quickly came to the realisation that nothing would be good enough. Maybe sneaking it into the house? The sheer size of the boxes didn't allow that. Not without raising more alarms than a naked Raiden would do in a warehouse full of guards.

Wait... bad comparison.

Anyway, I decided to just meet her head-on. I stepped inside turned into the living room and started explaining to both my parents and my mother in particular. How it was a bargain, how it was pretty hard to come by, how it was a dancing game.
"A dancing game?" my father asked. "Ok, this I've got to see..."

Seeing it as a possible way out, I complied, got the necessary equipment, rolled out a mat and started the game. The one saving grace with this game was that I'm a real Vib-Ribbon freak. So I quite quickly got the hang of the timing (although it was on easy and I was still dancing 'n00b-style', only extending a leg from my center position at certain times). Then it happened. It actually and truly happened, and I'm still shocked when I think about it again.

"Ok, roll out that second mat, I want to try this as well." I don't think it needs any more explanation whose voice said that, but just to emphasise it even more I'll tell you anyway. My mom said that. We played Dance Dance Revolution that afternoon extending beyond dinner well into the evening. The look on my sister's face when she came home from school is impossible to describe. Mother and Son dancing the night away to the tunes of B4U. Feverishly stepping on arrows, trying to outdo each other in combo's. Almost collapsing while laughing about the sheer perceived impossibility of Dead End. Happily singing along to "It's A Small World" from DisneyMix.

OK, so we're now at the present again. My mother hasn't changed that much. She still disregards games, she still disagrees about the amount of money I spend on them, but every so often the words 'dance' and 'game' are dropped into a conversation when family or friends are around. After that it'll only take about five minutes to step unto the mat again and to keep on dancing.
It might have taken me 15 long enduring years to get here, but finally she answered to my call of watching my gaming accomplishments. The one thing I had never expected however, was that she would try and beat them as well.