A few weeks back Colure and I decided to embark on a small adventure for my birthday: visiting any and all legitimate, non-Gamestop used video game stores in the Greater Orlando region. I knew of one, and a few phone calls and google searches confirmed two others, one of which was part of a newer chain that had a few stores open in the region. The other had a name and logo that was practically begging Gamestop to sue them. That's not a whole lot of stores, but then again I didn't expect to find much more.

I've always had an affinity for independent used video game stores. As a rule, they were always more likely to have more unusual products, and the selection just seemed vast. I've been trying to frequent them all my life: when I was a kid in South Florida, it was the Video Game eXchange; in middle school, I always counted on Microplay. For college years, it was Cybertron. But all of those stores had the same ending; none of them lasted.

These sort of stores have always struggled, and there's plenty of reasons why. One Cybertron employee once summarized the problem by saying that their biggest issue was that people were trading them crap they couldn't sell. It's a fair point. My eyes might light up when I see a stack of TurboGrafx games, but how many people actually care? Other issues come into play when gauging how much new stock to take in, and how much you can expect to turn around. Gamestop has done well for itself in this regard, but it's a big name brand with deep pockets - chances are good that the casual customer is much more likely to dump their old games with them. A Cybertron customer would probably just ebay it. Maybe Gamestop customers are fine about just getting store credit, but at Microplay? No dice - it had to be cash.

But as much as these stores have struggled in the past, I really think that nowadays it's a sort of business that's impossible to do, for two big reasons.

1) Internet - It is impossible to compete with the internet in two critical categories - price and selection. Price is incredibly low, selection is virtually unlimited. How do you compete with that? There's a lovely little shop in Winter Springs called S+F Video Games that I visit once every few months or so. I'd go there more often except that their selection is fairly so-so; you're not likely to find the older game you had in mind, and the times they do have something worthwhile, it's marked up higher than it's worth. If anything, my visits there just inspire me to hit up ebay for something, and that's not good.

I don't read reviews.

Well, that's not quite true. Let me rephrase – I don't read reviews to determine whether or not I should purchase something, which I think is the point of a review. I do read them sometimes after the fact, out of curiosity, but generally as a rule, I tend to avoid them.

There's a couple of reasons for this, and it varies depending upon what medium is being reviewed. To be honest, I will read reviews for books, products, hotel, etc. and give them some merit. What I'm really talking about here are reviews for movies and games.

In the case of movies, I avoid them like the plague. I've found that a perfectly good movie experience can be ruined by reading a review beforehand, because essentially what it's done is given you an opinion without having a chance to form your own. When you watch the movie, it's like having a commentary track on – all you can hear are the critics' complaints.

Granted if the movie received a good review that's not as much a problem, but you never can really know that going into it. It's true that generally movies that receive good reviews tend to be pretty good, and movies that receive terrible reviews tend to be godawful. But most movies are somewhere in the middle, with mixed results. Personal preference comes into play more. I may have enjoyed The Incredible Hulk (not to be confused with Hulk), but plenty of people didn't, and that's OK. But that doesn't mean that I want their review forced down my throat and affecting my movie watching experience.

In the case of video games, I'm not as religious about avoiding reviews, but they rarely effect me. When The Force Unleashed received fairly bleh scores, it didn't reduce my enthusiasm for the product – I just assumed reviewers were being overtly whiny (they were). Same for Assassin's Creed, Lego Indy, and plenty of others I've bought in spite of reviews. If a game receives a truly awful score... it's possible it might make me sit back and reconsider, but that's a pretty rare occurrence. On the flip side, it doesn't matter how highly you rate a game – if I wasn't interested in it before, a shining review doesn't do much to make me consider the product. I will occasionally read these reviews, certainly, but only to get an idea on how the general press thinks of the game, which is information I like to supplement with how well these games actually sell. Either way you slice it, the review doesn't sway me in any way.

When it comes down to it, for me the only “review” that can effect me is one from a friend. Generally you know this person and their likes/dislikes, and how often that lines up with your own. And those I'll definitely give some weight. A few non-trek friends had rave reviews for Star Trek before it came out, which let me know that it was going to be something special. Equally, another friend saw Terminator Salvation early and despised it, which gives me pause until I remember that he also wasn't a big fan of The Dark Knight (which is insane), so there's still a chance it could be good (I'll know either way after tonight). Ultimately, the review basically comes down to one of three things: it's cool, it's okay, or it sucks. There isn't really much more to say about it that can't be wrapped up with a thumb gesture.

In any event, that's why I tend to keep my reviews on the short end – mainly because if I don't read them, I've no business writing them, but also because, when you get right down to it, they're easy to summarize. Either it's cool, it's okay, or it sucks, and everything else is just personal supposition.

One of my favorite things about the internet is that it's given me the ability to buy just about anything I want. Not only can I get some really ancient consoles, but if there’s a game I'm interested in that hasn’t hit stateside yet, it doesn’t take much to buy it, as long as you’ve got the desire and the means. Simply put, importing games has evolved from a relatively painful process to something rather simplistic with today's technology.

That being said, while I’ve gleefully imported a few items in my time, there are standards. While I may be tempted to import Record of Agarest War because it’s never going to hit the U.S., I know that’d be a huge mistake. And why? Because I’d be breaking the rules on importing games. ^[1]

But what are the rules? I'm glad you asked!

WHAT TO IMPORT

• Games that will never be released here. Ever.
• Games where language will not be a barrier to gameplay
• Games where the plot is either non-existent or utterly irrelevant

A great personal example of this is Starfy 4: The Legend of Starfy. I’m a big fan of platformers on handhelds and Starfy sounded like a lot of fun. There was zero chance of it being released here, gameplay was fairly easy to figure out, and I couldn’t care less about the plot. In short it was a great import

I'm not saying there aren't exceptions. One such example is my Wonderswan collection of Final Fantasy games. These are games where language is a serious barrier, but since I already know them inside and out, it didn't really matter. The important thing here is being true to the spirit, not the letter, of the laws.

DO NOT IMPORT A GAME IF:

• A stateside release is imminent
• It’s not compatible with your console
• That game is an RPG
• You have any sense of hesitation or doubt

And now the flip side. Back in February of 2003, I was dying of excitement for the release of Final Fantasy XI, which was taking foreeeeevar. I had read up on people who had imported the game, and if it was working for them… why couldn’t it work for me? After some not-so-careful thought, I made the plunge and imported the PC version.

In so doing I broke most of the above rules and ultimately wasted 70 bucks. First off, while the release of the American version was taking forever, it certainly hadn’t been cancelled; in fact it arrived just later that year in October. Secondly, this was an MMO that involved a lot of party play... I wasn't going to be able to talk with anyone. Soloing was only going to get me so far, something I didn't really address. Finally, through a comedy of errors involving language barriers, fake japanese addresses, and credit cards with middle names, I was never able to register an account and play the game the first place! My decision to import was completely premature; without a doubt I was giving into my excitement for the product, ultimately to my detriment.

So consider my tale a word of warning. I should also mention that you need to be careful to look at the region of a game before importing it. Handheld devices excluded (mostly), most games still tend to have region lock-out codes. And no, unless you’re living in another country (or speak the language) don’t ever buy a region’s console just to play their games. Whatever it is, it’s not worth it – in the end, it’s almost always better to wait for a proper translation, or just find something else to play.

1. I should clarify that this is a guide for importing something from Japan and I'm assuming you don't speak Japanese (watching a lot of anime doesn't count). There is rarely a reason to import something from Europe to the US, so I don’t feel the need to discuss that particular issue. As for the reverse… well, look. If tomorrow I had to live to England, I would be importing all my games from the U.S. It’s an entirely separate set of issues. While things have gotten a lot better compared to 10 years ago, there's definitely still problems. Another discussion for another time.

Since I was about 6 years old, my number one gift request has been video games. If I got some new games for my birthday, well, that was a pretty good birthday. By that simple definition, one of my best birthdays was when I turned 12. I can't remember exactly what we did for it that year, but you better believe I remember what games I received. After all, it was a very good year.

The first one I opened up from mom and dad was one I had specifically requested, which was X-Wing. That game is a topic for another time, but let me just say that my parents gave me not a game so much as an addiction that would last for many years.

But it's not the only game I received that day. At 12, I had never really had a whole lot of experience with adventure games. I seem to recall playing a version of King's Quest on my uncle's machine and getting tossed into jail fairly quickly with no hope of escape. But otherwise I just hadn't played them much. That was about to change in a big way.

The LucasArts Archives Volume 1 looked like some sort of gaming treasure trove, and it was. It included what appeared to be six games (but was really more like 3 games, 2 demos and some Star Wars screen savers) and completely blew my mind. I didn't exactly get a ton of games growing up, and suddenly I had been thrown six, all in one package! Two Star Wars games! An Indiana Jones game! Some bunny thing and a dog driving a car game! And a... tentacle chasing a nerd, or something game! This was awesome!

I quickly discerned that Rebel Assault wasn't actually Rebel Assault the Game as much as Rebel Assault Levels 1,2 and 12: The Glorified Demo (I still played the hell out of it). Then the actual demo cd wasn't as demo-tastic as I had been led to believe, with the TIE Fighter demo I coveted so much being little more then the opening (albeit awesome) cinematic. And it took awhile (hours), but eventually I did get bored of watching Obi-Wan and Darth Vader fight endlessly across my Windows 3.1 desktop, although not before I watched all of the "Star Wars Script" screen saver for what had to be longer then the actual movie length (And what's worse? I was disappointed when it didn't roll into Empire Strikes Back after it was done).

But none of that could tarnish how awesome a gift this was, because the remaining 3 CDs were undeniably awesome. Nowadays I can't fathom playing multiple games at one time, but back then it was a way of life, and honestly a necessity for enjoyment. This was a time before GameFAQs and the internet being a source of easy answers - adventure games worked because you really had to spend a long time trying to figure out by yourself what on earth to do. Sometimes the solution would only take you a few minutes, other times maybe a couple hours. In the case of a particular Sam n' Max puzzle, it may in fact be months. But the fun was in figuring things out, so that was just part of the game. Having all three of them, however, allowed me to jump in between them. If I couldn't figure out what on earth Indy was supposed to do in Iceland, I'd jump over to Day of the Tentacle. Then, if I couldn't figure out how to get George Washington's wooden teeth, well, I'd take a stroll over to the Stucky's in Sam n' Max. Not only did this limit the frustration that is inherent in any adventure game, but it also gave me a chance to learn things in one game that could help me in others.

The only sad thing for me is that while I love all of these games, and I think they really stand the test of time , I can't go back and play them. I mean, I can, but it's not the same. You'd think 10 years later I'd forget all the puzzles, but you'd be wrong - no matter how hard I try, I cannot forget that I need to steal the hamster so I can put him in the freezer so I can flush him to the future where I can heat him up in the microwave whereby he will then be able to run in the makeshift generator I have created in order to get the time machine working again. I really, really wish I could, but that knowledge will be with me for the rest of my life.

That being said, I think they're fantastic. They were the first games I played that really adhere to what has now become my cornerstone philosophies on modern gameplay; All of these games allowed you to save anywhere, and each of them provided challenges without punishing the player with death. It's a shame adventure games have largely gone the way of dinosaur, because they really did provide engaging environments where you really had to think your way out of a solution rather than shoot it up. But looking back over this set reminds me of how much fun they provided me over such a long time, and I really have to conclude that this was, without doubt, one of the best gifts I ever received.

It also reminds me that I never did play the full retail version of Full Throttle or The Dig. I think it might be time for me to finally do something about that.

Hi there. My name is Kevin and I have a problem.

Well, actually I have a few problems. But let's stay on track here.

I have a fairly large video game collection. A couple years ago I took an inventory to see just how many games I owned. Now, I haven't really kept up with it, but glancing over it and factoring in how much I've picked up over the last few years, we're looking at something around the mid-to-high 300s. Which sounds like a ton to a regular person, but is a mere pittance to an actual collector.

According to my inventory, I've beaten over 150 of them, which is actually a lot when you consider that 1) a lot of the old games (i.e. Pac-Man, Space Invaders) have no real end and 2) I own a lot of older games, and most of the ones you can beat (theoretically) are incredibly difficult. But there's another statistic, one I don't even have outdated numbers to reference, that I want to examine.

I'm talking about games I've bought and never played.

Think this over for a second. You have some hard earned cash. You go and buy something with it. You bring it home. Take it out of the bag. And never use it. Ever. Why did you even buy it in the first place? I'm not some sort of rich socialite; I don't have money to throw around on stuff I'm not gonna use. Hell I'm the kind of guy who flips out when some cheese goes bad. That's hardly even worth a dollar, yet I've spent 50 bucks on a game and never thrown it in a console.

Why on earth do I do this?

There's no simple answer. In the end it just comes down to what drives me to normally buy a game. I hear about something that sounds cool, so I mark it in my head as a game I want. Eventually I come to a position where I can buy it, so I do. And then for some reason the process breaks down.

There's two main causes for this, I think. The first is time. Let's say I've been watching a couple games for awhile and thanks to a little bad luck they come out on the same day. Well, I can't start them both (I mean I could, but I've never enjoyed it. Same way I can't read multiple books at one time). So I start one of them.

Now, hopefully I pick up the other one right after I finish. But what if I purchase a new game before that happens? What am I going to do, shelve it? No way. It's a lot easier just to jump into that. Plus, what if I bought two RPGs? Do I really feel up for another RPG after just getting through one? Probably not, so to the shelf it goes, and after awhile it becomes little more then a dust collector.

It's not that I don't want to play it. I always think about getting back to it (for awhile), but it's hard to find time to do so when other games I want to play are coming out left and right. In the end, I have to work a job and support a marriage. There's only x hours to play games, even if what I really need is y.

The other cause is money. Sometimes I see a fantastic deal on a game that I considered trying out, so I pick it up. The problem with these games is that usually I'm already playing something else. I have a tendency to always prioritize new games (mainly to justify having spent more money on them), so used games that I got a good deal on (or even gifts sometimes, to be honest) also tend to fall through the cracks.

On the bright side, there is hope. In an effort to save money, I've really tried to tighten my belt on which games I buy and which ones I don't. Maybe I'd like to have Street Fighter IV, but is it really worth 60 bucks when I know a year from now it'll sell for less than half? Better for me to only buy games that I really want new, and take the extra time as an opportunity to play through games I've never gotten around to. So far this has worked out great, finally giving me a chance to play through games like Trauma Center: New Blood (nerve-wracking), Super Mario Galaxy (incredible), and Dead Rising (tons of fun once you power-level) that have been gathering dust on my shelves for far too long.

Honestly though? What's helped out even more is that there hasn't been a whole lot of great games coming out this year. Looking at the line-up, I don't see that changing. '07 and '08 brought some amazing titles, so I suppose we're about due for a lackluster year.

Personally? I'm fine with that. Right now I can do with a little less temptation. In the meantime, I'll try to dust off some of these lost games and see what I've been missing out on.

Coming home from my parents house today, having failed miserably to fix their super-infected work computer, I had the strange urge to turn on the old PS2, fire up some original Guitar Hero, and see if I could play that one song in expert that I never could finish (Answer: Yes I can). It was a bit weird going back to the original source of what has become the most expensive genre of my gaming habit. In a lot of ways, it simply doesn't hold up to what's gone and replaced it, but at the same time I was struck by how much fun it still is. The essence of what made that first game so much fun still holds true for all the games it has spawned, which at current tally makes for a grand total of 11 different games (12 if we count the 360 version of Guitar Hero 2 as separate), with four others officially announced as in development to be released this year.

That's a lot of games, and certainly one could make an argument for oversaturation. Personally I think I own all of them cept two: Guitar Hero Rock the 80s, cause it was mostly covers, only had 30 songs but cost 50 bucks, and was released as PS2 only at a point where that was just a dumb business decision. Oh, and Guitar Hero: Metallica, cause that just came out and, uh, I don't know. The difficulty would be incredibly punishing and I'm not sure I see Colure wanting to scream like James Hetfield. Would probably be like that time Avril Lavigne performed a cover of Fuel.

At current count I believe there are two plastic drumsets two USBs microphones, and a whopping seven plastic guitars sprawled across our apartment, meaning I own more fake instruments than actual ones. I think it's safe to say that I love these games, and after doing some thinking, I've found 5 good reasons why.

1) Because Rhythm Games are Cool - I like music, I like games. The combination is pretty natural. But throw in a fake plastic instrument? Now you're really talking. I mean, it's one thing to interact with music via a controller, but instead of pressing buttons... wouldn't you rather hit stuff? Or rock out? You can't rock out with a controller. That's like one step removed from trying to rock a keytar. Better to go with something that looks like a legitimate instrument. To quote Steven Tyler, “Fake it 'til you make it!”

2) Fosters Interest in Music – I really can't think of a better way to get kids to have an interest in playing real instruments. I've heard before that some people are afraid that this'll replace the need some kids have to pick up a real guitar and learn it, but I think that's completely bull. If anything this game just fosters the desire for you to have a real band. Plus it can be a great teaching method, not for guitar so much, but for drums and singing. Especially drums. Do you know how many painful hours I could have avoided trying to teach friends how to play the drums if I had had Rock Band growing up? Some of them might have actually been legitimate successes for Christ's sake!

3) It's Easier then Getting the Band Back Together –A lot of us had bands in high school, and maybe into college. Maybe you're still friends with them and it's a fun idea to get them all together again and do a little playing. But let's be honest: Equipment's a huge pain to luge around, no one remembers the same songs, the microphone's broke, your singer's still a primadonna, and truth be told you probably weren't that great to begin with. But throw on Rock Band and you can all come together without all the hassles and recrimination – or even replace out members if your old group is a little too hard to recruit/would be violating restraining orders to see.

4) Best use of Downloadable Content to Date – Maybe not Guitar Hero so much (which prefers to release millions of games), but Rock Band has seriously used downloadable content better than any other game yet. Both games have transcended from being just fun distractions to full on platforms, providing you with tons of options for how you'd like to customize your experience, while at the same time giving musicians barrels upon barrels of money. It's a great system for everyone involved, and as a result I've spent much more time playing Rock Band 1 & 2 than any other game like it. I've also spent a ton of money, but honestly? Totally worth every cent.

5) Because it Makes You Feel like a Rock Star - Looks, let's face facts: Most people have jobs which are fairly boring the majority of the time. You might like it alright, but come on now; Everyone wants a chance to feel like a rock star. And these games let you do it, without even having any musical ability. One of the reasons I rebelled against Guitar Hero 3 so much was because it included “boss battles” - which to me is antithetical to the whole point of these games. You want less reminders that you're playing a video game, not more game clichés. And for the most part, especially in the latest Rock Band, they've really embraced that concept of being an avenue to living out a musical fantasy. In other words, it's a hell of a lot better then jumping around your garage doing air guitar.

I could easily write a lot more than 5 reasons why I think these games are so awesome, but honestly? I think I'd rather just go play some Rock Band and get myself psyched up for the LEGO version coming out later this year...

This is the sort of thing you wish you could do as an adult, but can't because you're afraid of getting arrested. And then you'd have to spend the rest of your life explaining to potential employers why you terrorized a grocery store in a Pac-Man costume. Which is a difficult position to recover from in an interview.

But man, if only youtube had really been out there when I was in high school. We even had a Film Club for Christ's sake! We could have done an assortment of wonderfully terrible things with no repurcussions. Instead? We tried to make some sort of awful fantasy film that still haunts me at night.

On a side note, this video kind of reminds me of this bonus game I have for the Gamecube called Pac-Man Vs. It was one of those games where you had to have Game Boy Advances hooked up to the system (which was a bit of a cost impediment) but the idea was cool. Basically, the game was multiplayer Pac-Man, with three players controlling Ghosts and one player controlling Pac-Man. If you ate Pac-Man, you became him, and thus the goal was to score the most points while having to rotate between working as a team to working competitively.

I think we played it a total of one time ever.

I maintain that if a game is undeniably fun, then your plot can be incredibly basic. Honestly, so many games nowadays are ruined by striving to have some sort of meaningful storytelling when all the game is really about is punching bad guys. Sometimes hitting bad guys is really enough, and any sort of attempt to weave some grand insight into the dark nature of man's inhumanity against man (or worse, some sort of life is worth living despite the harshness so don't give up! message) comes across pretty bleh. At the very least it's distracting, but at the worst it can completely ruin an otherwise perfectly fine game.

The point I'm trying to get to is that some game developers could learn something from Bad Dudes.

Bad Dudes is a classic Arcade beat-em up that was ported to the NES like any other classic Arcade Beat-em up. It's entire plot consists of two sentences showcased at the beginning of your adventure.

"The president has been kidnapped by ninjas. Are you a bad enough dude to rescue the president?"

That's it. There's never any talk about where these ninjas came from. How they got past Secret Service. What their ultimate endgame is. There's no character development for the Bad Dudes. I have no idea how they became Bad Dudes and why we as a country would trust such Bad Dudes to save our President. I've never known, but I didn't care then and I really don't care now.

I know all I need to. President's been kidnapped. Ninjas are involved. If I'm going to rescue him, I'm going to have to be one hell of a bad dude.

I'm not saying that I'm against games having stories; hell my greatest gaming experience is still the first time I played through Final Fantasy 7 and realizing games could actually pull off legitimate stories. My point is simply that not all games need to have grand plots, that sometimes less is more, and that it can be very easy to explain away things to the point of destruction.

I mean, would a heavier plot have made Bad Dude's ending any sweeter?


I seriously doubt it.

In short, more of this, less of that.