The nostalgia of original consoles is something I feel is unmatched. I remember when I was younger, in the garage my parents had turned it into a sort of “hang out” space. In this space was an old CRT television hooked up to some sort of sega console that I played on with my father once or twice. The controllers were clunky and shaped oddly and I couldn’t quite figure them out, but my father held them with familiarity. It was the same when he pulled out a Gameboy color, it was lime green. He gave it to my older sister and I never saw it much after that. Now I am having these experiences of my own.
Recently, maybe about two weeks ago, I remembered what felt like a fever dream from my elementary years. I had a Nintendo DS, it was teal and I had to share all my games with my older sister. Mostly titles like Hello Kitty and Lalaloopsy. Suddenly I wanted one again. I went down the rabbit hole, down reddit and youtube, down ebay. I found this whole subculture of analog collectors, people in search of things I also feel a great sense of nostalgia for. So I did what any normal person would do and spent sixty dollars on a white Nintendo DSi, and spent an entire day modding it via SD card. Again, it was like opening a whole new door, reminiscent of that one scene in Coraline with the tunnel like blue and purple walls. So now I have indoctrinated my father and sister back into this world with me. I have been playing on it non-stop and spending any time outside of that talking about.
On another note though, it makes me excited for the future, something so scary right now. It seems sort of poetic, like one day I will sit down with my own kids in a dimly lit room and try to teach them how to hold a handheld console, so all the buttons are easy to use. I will get to detail my first saves of games I have played a million times, but that they are seeing for the first time ever. Especially because I hold this so sentimentally, I love sharing games with my dad. They have always been a big part of his life, an influential one at least, and it makes me happy to share that with him. It makes me even happier to think that one day I might share the same thing with my own children. Or to think that they will have their own consoles, with intricacies only someone of their generation could understand.