My Tomagotchi is Trying to K*ll Me. Or, Embracing Adulthood
Welcome to Sensei Sensibility! You are the hungry mind yearning to learn about whether or not this article title is mere click-bait, or truly an eye-opening exposé on sentient, malevolent nineties toys; I am the (questionably) knowledgeable Sensei, more than happy to satiate your nerderous appetite.
I'm an adult, but not like an "adult" adult:
From Homer's Telemachus (that auld classics lad) to Homer Simpson's Squeaky Voiced Teen, there comes a time in all our lives when we must "put childish things away, and become a man!"
However, according to a suggested Facebook post I recently saw (in your face extensive journalistic business research, this is as deep as we're going), 40% of North American toy sales now belong to the over 30s-with-no-children-but-heaps-of-disposable-income-to-indulge-in-nostalgia-purchases demographic. In essence, millennials.
Just take a look around any Game Stop or attend any comic/nerd culture convention and you'll see for yourself: childish things are here to stay, and today's adults tend to come with a side of toys. No, not those toys - literal CHILDREN'S toys.
Mewtwo Pop Figure Purchased Two Days After I Swore I Wouldn't Buy Any More Kids Toys...
The Barista with the Pikachu Tattoo:
A seemingly "grown-up" office worker with an animé mouse mat, the barber in the Batman hoodie and Spider Man baseball cap, that ex of yours who still plays with Yu-Gi-Oh cards twenty years on, accountants who squabble over what House they got Sorted into. We're surrounded daily by those with an inner-child so strong it could bench-press the Hulk. And while we may not "get it", but still, we smile and nod indulgently.
"Sure, if it makes them happy, who are they harming?"
Yes, who are these innocent consumers hurting with their retro themed merchandise purchases? No one. (Except their bank account, and maybe healthy emotional growth.)
BUT.
Can these seemingly wholesome purchases hurt their owners!?
Recently I indulged in some nostalgia themed shopping at Dublin Comic Con. I spent twenty five euro on an honest-to-Jaysus Tomagotchi. Remember those? Tiny little egg things from the darkest depths of the nineties. They're a hand-held game containing a pocket pet whom you feed, entertain, flush away tiny pixel poops for, and inevitably mourn over when they pass away. (Their life expectancy was only ever a few hours.)
I was so excited. I hadn't seen one of these feckers in over two decades. This was finally the inanimate material good that was going to bring me inner peace, miscellaneous success, and resolve all my assorted childhood woes. (Or so we all hope when we shop away our feelings...) I couldn't wait to fire up that badboy and sail away on a sea of yesteryear.
But I had forgotten about... The Beeping.
The Calm Before the Storm...
Beep. BEep. BEEp. BEEP. BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP:
If a Tomagotchi wants attention, it beeps.
And a Tomagotchi ALWAYS wants attention. Every. Minute. Of. The. Day.
Think: a real life version of Homer Simpson's patented "Everything's Okay Alarm".
But carried on your person.
Here's a typical day in the life of an adult Tomagotchi owner:
Me, walking quietly upstairs with a steaming mug of coffee and my work laptop, and then -
BEEEEEEEP!!!! BEEEEEEEEEP!!! BEEEEEEEP!!!
And back down the stairs I go. On my butt. Backwards. Covered in coffee. Laptop and all. Startled heart, pounding.
Me, precariously standing on a chair changing a smoke alarm battery, and then -
BEEEEEEEP!!!! BEEEEEEEEEP!!! BEEEEEEEP!!!
Hello, surprise gravity!
And so on.
From being shocked into dropping boiling pots of pasta water on to my be-flip-flopped feet, my poor hamster's sleep cycle being disturbed by night beeps, and a parade of highly irritated co-workers, my precious Tomagotchi did not in fact make me feel the ye olde warm 'n' fuzzies I thought it would, nor did it restore to me my fading youth - it was an unexpected health hazard, and bloody annoying.
Was the Tomagotchi actively trying to murder me? Or was the universe trying to impart (occasionally painful) lessons about the importance of embracing adulthood and not being tied to the past?
The End of An Era:
For my own safety, and the sanity of my peers, after a mere three days, I had to lay this particular childish thing to rest.
Considering we're living in a post-pandemic era, with war on mainland Europe, and the daily low-key threat of the planet imploding - it's not exactly a mystery that today's adults-but-not-like-adult-adults are retreating further and further into their once innocent past to seek comfort.
What the hell is our future going to be like!?
Embrace the Squishmallows! Wear the Sonic the Hedgehog onesies!
IT COULD ALL BE OVER ANY MINUTE PEOPLE!!!
However, if being an adult Tomagotchi owner has taught me anything, it's that: yes, treasure your happy memories, but, sometimes the past is best kept in the past. Indulge your inner-child from time to time, but don't get so bogged down with trying to recreate the past you forget to enjoy the present. Being an adult ain't all bad!
But, if as an adult you are going to buy a toy you once owned as a kid, make sure it's quiet one.
(Or has a mute button.)
Let's keep the nerdy chat going on:
I loved reading this , I hope you are safe now , I wont be getting myself one of these in the summer event
ReplyDeleteHahaha! All safe now, thank Jaysus! Yeah, apparently you can get these in Smyths for muuuuch cheaper than what I paid for at the con, so if YOU decide to risk it... try there! XD
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