How My Life Came Full Circle During a Round of Dance Dance Revolution
At PAX, I did not anticipate confronting my childhood obsession, Dance Dance Revolution, when my child asked to play a round with me.
Years before Guitar Hero, my childhood room was absolutely littered with crude plastic instruments imported from Japan. Stuffed under my bed, and then overflowing from my closet, were seemingly endless fake guitars, drums, and, yes, even maracas.
But my true love was Dance Dance Revolution. I did not then, and I do not now, consider myself athletic…but brother, I kicked ass at Dance Dance Revolution. Some of my cringiest memories are being so good at Dance Dance Revolution at a young age that when I started befriending editors at Electronic Gaming Monthly and visiting their office, they’d drop a dance mat in a room and have people gather to watch me play.
I had plastic mats and metal mats. I had domestic and imported copies. I had far too many of the song expansion packs. I had versions of the game on multiple platforms. I would regularly head to the arcade with friends and take turns trying to impress spectators back when GameWorks was a big thing, because it was one of the only places to play a game like Dance Dance Revolution in person. My college beer money was, in part, fueled by reviewing Dance Dance Revolution. You can still read them!
It’s a series I fell off of by college, at which point Guitar Hero, and later Rock Band, took my heart. But for several years, Dance Dance Revolution was my world, much to the confusion of my parents. Fortunately, my friends thought it was cool and played along, which meant my desire to start randomly sweating was not met with disdain.
Dance Dance Revolution still lives, though not to the degree it once was, partially because Guitar Hero killed the music peripheral market and partially because arcades are mostly non-existent in the U.S. There’s nowhere to play Dance Dance Revolution.
After my panel at PAX, we noticed a “classic” arcade room. My kids were patient and stayed for my entire panel, even though it was not required. I was not going to be offended if two children did not want to hear their father drone on and on about screen time in front of an audience of strangers. But my youngest played with toys and entertained herself, while my oldest squirmed in her seat and wondered why she couldn’t come on stage with me. Their reward was hitting the classic arcade room.
And that’s when we saw the Dance Dance Revolution machines.
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