In relation to my earlier post, the one about DDR, there is something you need to know. On Christmas Eve, whilst picking up a last minute gift for my brother (Shaun of the Dead, anyone?), I noticed that people were doing funny things with their arms and legs in the middle of Best Buy. Upon closer inspection, to my delight, I discovered that they were playing DDR. Having, of course, the need to feed my addiction, I decided to play for “just a few minutes”, which, predictably, turned into a solid hour before I realized what was happening. In fact, only when I stopped to check my cell phone for the time did I discover that I was half an hour late for the Christmas Eve church service. My friends, I have passed the first stage on my road to recovery: I realize that it is worse than I thought when I have to explain myself as, “Sorry I was late for church, I was playing DDR.” Yet, still, I can hear those songs, calling softly, sweetly, telling me to step up, step left, step right…
I’m sitting in the basement of the Adam’s Mark hotel in Denver. It’s pretty swanky. Long time sufferers readers will recognize that I was in this very location, typing a similar but less long-winded post, exactly one year ago, attending what is known as DCC. At the start of the conference, as over 2500 college kids are streaming into the main meeting room, it has become, as I understand it, tradition to run, trip, stumble, or otherwise fall quickly to the front of the room. They were playing some sort of eurodance, which is my favorite kind of music, and, coincidentally, the same kind of music utilized by DDR. I was saving some seats and people were really sort of getting into it, and I was, and this costs me to admit this, understand, I was wishing there was a pad that I could play on. Fellow addicts will hopefully feel me here and support me rather than condemn me.
That is all.