My father and I have tend to have similar views on many things. We both enjoy a good game of poker, we both enjoy the occasional episode of Rocky and Bullwinkle, and we both think that pizza and North Carolina style barbecue is proof that God exists and that He loves us very much. Seriously, my father is not an easy man to get excited, but put a tub of barbecue in front of him and he's like a teenager, but I digress. One thing which we have disagreed upon for many years is the merit and worth of video games.
    First, a little back story. Back in 1991, when gas was less than a buck a gallon, Guns ''N Roses was still good, and I was a wee lad of 4, my cousin lived with us while she went to college. She brought with her a Nintendo Entertainment System, and about half a dozen games. Being that my parents believed that a game system didn't belong in a college student's room, they decided to place both the TV and Nintendo in my room, and it is here we begin to see the unintended side effect of their thinking. I was fascinated by this little gray box, and the possibilities that it presented to me. Prior to this, my only forms of entertainment were the odd cartoons on nickelodeon, (which was then in its infancy with shows like Count Duckula, David the Gnome and Eureka's Castle), and running around our apartment in my underwear pretending to be Batman. The concept of a video game was utterly alien to me, and so it was with a profound sense of wonder that I plugged in Super Mario Bros. and hit the power button. I would never be the same again.
    From that day forward, I was hooked. Mario, Zelda, Batman, Mega Man, I played these games every moment my parents would allow me to. Running in my underwear pretending to be batman became running in my pajamas pretending to be Super Mario. My favorite cartoon was the Super Mario Bros. Super Show, and the Legend of Zelda (but not Captain N, because he was a stupidhead).
    Throughout this, it was my father who most closely watched my gaming habits (Mom was content to let me rescue the princess, so long as I was good in school). He looked at the Nintendo for what it was: a toy, no different than comic books or Incredible Crash Dummies (To the NC: Hint hint, nudge nudge), which I had also taken a shine to. And yet, it was my father who guided me down the road of gaming to where I am now. After my cousin moved out, he took me and bought me the first game system to be really MINE: a Game Boy, which at the time, was packaged with Super Mario Land 2. He bought a Barbie game for my sister, and (I'm guessing for shits and giggles) a chess game for himself, but I never saw him touch it. And since it was his job in the house to give me my 5 dollar allowance every week (which, at the tender age of 6, made me the Bill Gates of the playground), he was indirectly responsible for financing the games I bought for it, though he wouldn't let me buy Mortal Kombat. I had to con my mom into getting that for me as a birthday present.
    Mom would buy me a Super Nintendo a couple of years later, after the divorce, and rare was the weekend visit where I didn't bring the damn thing to my dad's house. He'd sit in the basement with me, watching me play Super Mario World, and Legend of Zelda, and every year for Christmas he'd get me a new game. I never told him which ones I wanted, but he seemed to have the luck of getting all the best ones, since his record includes Super Metroid and Final Fantasy 6..I mean, 3. After that, I'd buy all my systems myself, but again, it was my father who would provide me with many of my games. Throughout all of this, Dad would watch me grow in my hobby with a sort of puzzlement. He couldn't see the draw behind these pixelated amusements. He never did, even though he was around for the first Pong machines to go on sale, he never saw the point. He thought they were a bunch of pointless time wasters. And to be fair, in the early days, they were. The day I see a scholarly discussion on the philosophic merits of Pac-man will be the day I start walking on my hands and swearing off Dr. Pepper, that sweet elixir that has drowned more of my sorrows than any beer ever could....sorry, lost my train of thought.
    But in the years since my father bought my first Game Boy, both myself and gaming have grown and matured. No longer do I play games for the sole purpose of amusement, now I play them to examine them as one would a work of art or a piece of cinema. Now I'm more concerned about plot and execution than high scores and extra lives. I'm taking the industry more seriously, and so is the industry taking ITSELF more seriously. And this leads me to wonder....
My father is not, by any stretch, a stupid man. He's got a doctorate in mathematics and he teaches physics and engineering at the US Naval Academy. Hell, he's operated a damn SPY satellite, so its not like he doesn't have the mind to handle video games. Hell, he's even pretty good at some of the puzzle games. Many and mighty were our struggles to see who could get the higher score in Tetris, and few and far between are the times I managed to beat him (I still say he was letting me win). But outside of that, he doesn't have any interest in gaming whatsoever. But what if he was? What if my father got into gaming?
    Would he appreciate the relaxing properties of a quick game of Mario Bros.? He reads a lot of Asimov and Heinlein, would he appreciate the compelling stories of sci-fi games like Snatcher and Bioforge, or possibly some more fantastic fare like Final Fantasy VI and Dreamfall? What would he think of the intricate plots of Metal Gear Solid and Loom? Would he be good at fighters? (Definitely not, I can say from experience.) My Dad once expressed a fear that Alzheimer's runs in our family, what would he say if I told him that Brain Age is currently being tested as a potential tool for brain stimulation? Or what about fitness? Would he be able to appreciate the benefits of a few good sessions of WiiFit? Would he enjoy the logic based puzzles of Professor Layton? He's a physics teacher, do you suppose he could make a lesson based on the puzzles of Portal?
    I don't really know what my father would get into if he got interested into gaming, and its probable that he never will. But the thought of what he might or might not enjoy in gaming is an interesting one that, as much as I would love to see what would come of it, will probably never happen.

Though, if you're reading this, Dad, I'd be thrilled if you proved me wrong.