As a child growing up in Syracuse, New York, I went on plenty of trips with my family, but it was the trips to local arcades that I enjoyed the most. Walking through different video game-filled areas was like my version of the Vegas strip.
So many different signs, sounds, and flashing lights filled my eyes with amazement, but being there with my parents filled my heart. Exploring different alleyways of cabinets brought me closer to them. You see, in Syracuse there was not much to do outside of sledding, going to the zoo, and hanging out in the mall. In the summer it was different, you could go to Sylvan Beach (a small local amusement park), and there were plenty of festivals, including the fair which capped off the Summer.
In the winter, things were much more limited, but the city did have plenty of arcades. It always seemed like when one went out of business another would pop up. There was SportsStar 2000 which had a giant Dumbo-like ride except with spaceships you saw as you walked in. It was single-storey, and sectioned off its games by type.
In one corner there were all the fighting games (including the Mortal Kombat cabinets). Across from that were what I call cannon games - games where you shoot giant balls out of an air cannon to knock out a clown's teeth or knock over the famous fuzzy clown pins. Then deeper into the heart of the arcade were the multi-joystick beat-em-ups, as well as an area with ticket games. After SportsStar 2000 closed, Fun Scape popped up - a multi-level arcade with ticket games, mini-golf, laser tag, and simulation rides on the first floor, and all of the fighting and shooting games on the second floor. They even had a 3D rollercoaster towards the end! Sadly, it closed and is now a giant car dealership.
Throughout my arcade adventures, my parents were always there with me. My mom and aunt would take my cousins and me to Chuck E. Cheese every week for pizza and games, and my mother was the person who took me to my first arcade. My dad would take me to one almost every Sunday because my parents divorced when I was a baby, so I would be with him on the weekends. On Saturday he and I would run errands and go visit family, but Sundays were when we would go do something fun before he took me back to my mom's; it was always either a movie or the arcade. I can still remember him always handing me $5 which got me 25 tokens, he would take my jacket and we would be off on a ticket-collecting expedition.
While he or my mom never really played alongside me at the arcade, they would ensure I could play alone and uninterrupted by standing next to me and blocking off access to the other joystick and buttons. I never asked them to do that but they did because they both wanted to ensure that I had my own unique experience while playing. If I were playing a fighting game, my dad would coach me; he didn't know the moves or controls, but like a boxing coach in my corner would repeatedly tell me 'Stay on the attack Nick, remember you gotta block their attacks but the more you attack them the less they attack you.' My mom would cheer me on when I beat boss stages and racked up high scores on pinball, saying 'Wow, great round Nicholas' (she always called me by my full first name, as mothers are wont to do).
When I think about my parents and their actions at different arcades, it fills my heart with wistful memories and joy. Here are two people who are not fans of video games, yet understand the thrills they bring to their son. Each cheering word and each mini-coaching session was their way of showing interest in the hobby that I loved the most outside of playing sports and reading Goosebumps. My parents showed a level of wanting to understand why I loved video games so much, and that is something I will always be thankful for.
They knew playing games made me happy and never once wanted to dampen my love for them. Sure, there were plenty and I do mean plenty of times growing up when they'd wish I spent more time focusing on my studies than beating various bosses at home, but at the arcade all that went away. I was allowing them into my world and they stepped in it with both feet and my coat under their arm.
They wanted me to have adventures - whether in real life or digitally - they wanted me to have an imagination, and that they wanted to build a life for me where I could fall back on a mattress of memories any time I wanted to. Like all of our parents, they will not be around forever, but those memories made in the arcades with them will remain as long as I am around. So here's to you, mom and dad. I could not have asked for better co-players.