So after I bought Crypt of the Necrodancer—which is apparently the theme of this week’s posts—I fired off this Twitter thread that ended with a video of me dance-padding while acknowledging that I am “definitely not the target market.”
Except… I totally am.
Or at least, I was.
I used to go to MAGFest, the annual music and games convention in Washington, DC. I gave the keynote speech at the first Rockage, a “celebration of retro music and indie gaming.” I was the project manager for the video game cover band Bad Dudes. I’ve had email conversations with some of the people who worked on the Crypt of the Necrodancer soundtrack.
But that was all a decade ago.
Time is feeling a little squirrely and circular right now—like, I just got this flyer advertising swing dancing lessons, which I’m probably going to do because I used to take swing dancing lessons, and I also used to do rock climbing and it looks like I’m going to get the chance to do that again fairly soon, and I just paid for a month of Hulu in order to watch the Looking for Alaska miniseries, and I’m reworking some of the songs from my singer-songwriter days so I can perform them for a new audience, and, like, IS IT 2010 AGAIN?
Part of me is wondering whether this recirculation of interests, for lack of a better term, happens to everybody.
The other part is wondering whether it’s happening to me because I’ve got extra disposable income right now (which was, coincidentally enough, also the case ten years ago) and—perhaps more importantly—because I do not have children.
Which means I can buy dance pads and pay for swing dancing lessons if I want to. I can indulge any interest that crosses my path, as long as it fits into both my schedule and YNAB.
I think I thought I wasn’t the target market for a rhythm-based dungeon crawler first because I’d never been into dungeon crawlers before and second because I was, like, turning 38 in two weeks? (I have decided the dance pad is my birthday present to myself. It just arrived a little early.) But then I read this NYT article that suggested that we feel as old as the group with which we identify, and I was like “okay, I wonder if that means I’m going to fall out of sync with my age peers in the next few years, or if there will be enough people like me for it to be a thing.”
I also think, while we’re on the subject, that it feels really weird for the Looking for Alaska miniseries to be set in 2005 and for none of the characters to have cell phones, because by then we were all T9 texting each other and using our cheapo candy bar phones to play snake. (If the story’s plot hinges on the fact that these students have to use a pay phone to make off-campus calls, the miniseries needed to be set in a time period when that would have been realistic.)
UPDATE: I got the Looking for Alaska book from the library and apparently it is set in 2005? Cell phones are not allowed at the boarding school, but one student has one.