Broken Childhood
I come from a family that used to be pretty strict on the whole “entertainment” side of things.
My parents migrated here from Hong Kong with not much to work with. They started out working in kitchens and gradually worked their way up to a number of restaurants, a take away store and a catering business. For those of you unfamiliar with the glorious hospitality industry, restaurants are hard work - it’s physically and mentally draining, with long hours and tight margins.
Needless to say, there wasn’t much room for trivial things in our household like “games consoles”.
I wasn’t entirely deprived, though. The crowning glory of my formative gaming years would definitely have been my GameBoy Original. I was stoked, because whenever I asked for anything beyond a calculator, the response would usually be a firm “no” . My mum even made a list of conditions I had to fulfil before she would buy it, and I accepted them blindly just to get the damned thing. My dad condemned the idea, saying that I had been spoiled rotten, and that my future was as good as gone. It was like I was given a pound of crack cocaine or something.
I reckon I haven’t turned out too badly.
But I guess their fears were confirmed - I played that thing within an inch of its life. I snuck in as much time as I could into that humble little machine. Before it came along, whenever I went to friend’s places I would always be so incredibly envious of their gaming gear. Their beastly 486s compared to my pokey Tandy TL-1000, their Mega Drives and their SNESes compared to my…nothing. At the time all I had was my GameBoy, and it was good.
(And before you think, “Why don’t you get a paper route or something and make your own money, you leech”, I was obligated to work for my parents. Gratis. Doesn’t leave much time for real work.)
They knew they made a mistake, too. They saw me playing and feared for my future (as most Asian parents do). They hid my precious GameBoy everywhere they could - on top of cupboards, in linen closets, in saucepans and under beds. I would spend a good amount of time going through the house just to find it and get my fix of 5 minutes more. Just 5 minutes more.
Getting a new computer only made matters worse. Remember when you could lock computers with a key? They locked me out of the family computer. Again, I would hunt for the key all over the house. I think I even went so far as to try picking at the lock.
Now that I am gainfully employed, I have a suitably powerful PC and a 360 with a nice selection of titles, as well as a DSLite for the train. I’m considering getting a PS3 on top of this as well.
I feel like I’m making up for lost time in my youth, but at the same time I’m kinda glad that I was kept in line. I doubt that I’d have any less love for games now than I would if I were spoilt rotten. Hell, I reckon I can appreciate them more for what they are instead of whining about slipped release dates and such.
So, to all those parents that are holding out on their kids - you’re most likely doing the right thing by them in the end. Just keep in mind that we’re going to spite you for it once we get our first pay slip.












