On Community

It’s been over a month since I attended the neo-Mecca of gaming conventions, the Penny Arcade Expo (PAX) in Seattle, Washington. Being from small-town Iowa, I’ve never really had the opportunity to attend an event such as PAX, or any convention for that matter. However, PAX has successfully stampeded the horrible plague of being landlocked by endless stretches of corn stalks and bean fields. At the end of it, many of the convention goers fell ill to the latest strain of influenza. I got the small brunt of it, and only had a mild case. And I honestly couldn’t be happier.

I remember watching the coverage of the Electronic Entertainment Expo (E3) on TechTV (now G4)  as just a mere preteen; seeing all these brand new games, interviews with the developers, and the aura of gaming goodness surrounding everyone at all times.  I watched envyingly as all my heroes trudged the exact same ground at the exact same time, playing all the games before the mass audience could get their grubby hands on them. Running into Warren Spector, or John Romero, or Sid Meier, or Richard Garriott.

I ached to experience the chaos.

But being some young kid from Iowa, there was a snowball’s chance in hell I could get an opportunity like that. I waited years. And so my gaming life went on as usual. Getting the latest, greatest PC game and mastering it, and moving onto the next. After all, what else could I do that was somehow attributed to the games industry? I was just a player, the lowly consumer of these majestic developer’s creations. But I wanted more. A lot more.

Alongside my gaming life was my Internet life. I was involved in many gaming communities, notably in the message boards and IRC channels. I forged many friendships and had a wonderful time discussing my hobby with people who shared it with me. I never fell for that stigmatic stereotype of Internet users being homicidal killers and rapists looking for their next victim. It was obviously clear to me the gamers that I interacted with were just like me. My interpersonal relationships with some of the people I’d met online grew in immense proportions, in such ways I could even consider several of them best friends. It may sound ridiculous to some, but I assure it’s entirely real and possible for these relationships to occur (but I’m sure you don’t want to read a sociological analysis right now). I didn’t just want to know these people digitally, I wanted to know them in the flesh. As my age and desires increased, I had finally reached an epoch where it was perfectly reasonable (for me, personally) to indeed embark on a journey to meet my friends for the first time. And after seeing pictures of people in online communities converging for the same reasons as I desired, I knew I had to do it.

My Mecca.

By 2009, the head honcho of video gaming conventions was the Penny Arcade Expo. My auspicious geographical location in relation to Seattle made the monetary requirements in my grasp and chronological necessities entirely achievable. I just had to pull the trigger. Here I was, making the commitment to do what I’ve wanted to do for years. Years. If I didn’t go, I’d regret it. So I pulled the trigger.

I’m very fortunate to be apart of such a community as Game Central. We aren’t just an avatar on a forum, or a disembodied voice in a game; we are a true community, we are true friends. We bond together through a medium that isn’t just discussion, we interact and “live” together just as any society on earth has ever done. We may press buttons and move our hands to achieve the goal of capturing a flag or fragging the opposing team, but the reactions to those actions is one so incredibly precious that it is hard to even describe properly. Never before in human history has communication been this easily accessible. We aren’t just playing games and having fun, we’re creating actual, legit friendships that potentially will last the rest of our lives.

Upon arriving at Seattle, my feelings were an amalgamation of nervousness, excitement, fright, and happiness. I didn’t know what to feel. Here I was, minutes away from finally meeting my friends. My friends. Funny, isn’t it? Considering people friends before actually knowing them. That’s saying something. I soldiered forth upon that understanding, and then finally reached my fate. There they were. My friends.

On the second day of the event amongst those I loved so dearly, the true purpose of this entire journey dawned to me; it wasn’t for the games, it was for these people, my friends. Here we were, at a meeting point for our hobby of PC gaming. But it wasn’t for the games… it was for us. I think our collective emotion can be summed up with a simple lyric, “With a friend at hand you will see the light.” (Taupin)

Over the course of that weekend, it was a constant stream of firsts and mutual bonding, which I’m sure everyone there can insist upon.

It was all because of PC gaming that we developed such close relationships. For those reading, I wish for you to open your mind for a few minutes. Reassess the reasons why you’re actually here. Is it for the game theory? The reviews? The previews? I would like to think otherwise.

The flu was worth it.