I think I can absolutely relate to this, I hope I don’t miss the mark in my response especially as I share from my own experience. If you remember you and I met for lunch not too long ago and I explained how I had thrown away all of my game collection, deleted most digital game accounts, various retro memorabilia, gaming art books, and sold my movie collection. I spent many years amassing all of that, I loved the thrill of the hunt, bargaining, winning auctions for reasonable deals, I liked reselling it when I could. I think much of this comes from nostalgia, while I certainly held an interest in retro video games, how they were made, the stories they told, I was essentially living in the past. Much like those with Pokémon cards, I had many hopes and dreams of sharing these items and memories with my own family one day, if I had joy with them certainly they would, just like so many others, a plus side is that they had monetary value.
Ultimately, I didn't have anyone to truly share them with and they kept me trapped in the past, in my memories and my imagination, while we call it nostalgia, I think we prefer to call it “simpler times.” Even if I did have a family to share it with, would it of been worth it or good? There is so much more to say here on how God has used this in my life, but it also hasn’t been a year and I am still working through it, because it still feels like a loss. I am sure you understand what I mean.
What you say at the end of the article, which I believe is your overall point, is everything to me. I will be going on a trip to Japan soon as an experience, it isn’t as a minimalist or someone who is rejecting having physical sentiments, but as someone who has now been learning that these things will never satisfy, not even the next generation you share it with, we were made for another world and that world isn’t the world of The Witcher, Clair Obscur, Zelda, Super Mario, Final Fantasy, or Pokémon, it’s Eternal Life with Christ in Heaven.
I agree with you, Sebastian. Just last night we hosted some of our children and spouses/girlfriends to a small family gathering. We all enjoyed the company around our dinner table, along with the good food, a board game, and some gift giving. The occasion was the arrival of one son who mainly works in the UK being Down Under to manage a folk festival gig. The fact that we can talk by email or other e-means at any time, did not diminish the significance of being physically together in one room again.
I agree with your broader argument and find it—as always—excellent and helpful. But I’m not sure I’d pick Pokémon cards as the perfect example of the value of physicality.
Yes, trading physical cards with real people is certainly better than purely digital, solitary entertainment. But at the end of the day, I’d rather my son didn’t get too deeply into this kind of heavily commercialized franchise, where cheaply produced and overpriced cards become more fascinating than other physical things—whether woodcraft, natural objects, good toys, interesting books, musical instruments, Lego creations, stamps, or anything else that seems more meaningful in itself.
I can’t stand the endless franchise merchandise: Frozen duvets, Paw Patrol fruit snacks, Minecraft shirts, Pokémon cards, Ninjago magazines, and so on. Huge companies use the enormous cultural pull of these franchises to capture children’s curiosity and turn it into repeated consumption and profit.
So while I completely agree with the case for physical things, I’m not sure physicality alone is enough. To me, there's an important distinction between physical things that connect us with God's beauty, creativity, craftsmanship, nature, history, or other people, and physical products whose appeal has largely been manufactured by an enormous commercial franchise. To me, much of the latter feels strangely hollow and artificial rather than wholesome.
Your mileage may vary. I will admit I don’t quite feel this way, but I see why someone might. I don’t think the argument in the article depends on a particularly high view of trading cards (nor was I trying to make a positive case for why people should get into them).
Sam,
I think I can absolutely relate to this, I hope I don’t miss the mark in my response especially as I share from my own experience. If you remember you and I met for lunch not too long ago and I explained how I had thrown away all of my game collection, deleted most digital game accounts, various retro memorabilia, gaming art books, and sold my movie collection. I spent many years amassing all of that, I loved the thrill of the hunt, bargaining, winning auctions for reasonable deals, I liked reselling it when I could. I think much of this comes from nostalgia, while I certainly held an interest in retro video games, how they were made, the stories they told, I was essentially living in the past. Much like those with Pokémon cards, I had many hopes and dreams of sharing these items and memories with my own family one day, if I had joy with them certainly they would, just like so many others, a plus side is that they had monetary value.
Ultimately, I didn't have anyone to truly share them with and they kept me trapped in the past, in my memories and my imagination, while we call it nostalgia, I think we prefer to call it “simpler times.” Even if I did have a family to share it with, would it of been worth it or good? There is so much more to say here on how God has used this in my life, but it also hasn’t been a year and I am still working through it, because it still feels like a loss. I am sure you understand what I mean.
What you say at the end of the article, which I believe is your overall point, is everything to me. I will be going on a trip to Japan soon as an experience, it isn’t as a minimalist or someone who is rejecting having physical sentiments, but as someone who has now been learning that these things will never satisfy, not even the next generation you share it with, we were made for another world and that world isn’t the world of The Witcher, Clair Obscur, Zelda, Super Mario, Final Fantasy, or Pokémon, it’s Eternal Life with Christ in Heaven.
I agree with you, Sebastian. Just last night we hosted some of our children and spouses/girlfriends to a small family gathering. We all enjoyed the company around our dinner table, along with the good food, a board game, and some gift giving. The occasion was the arrival of one son who mainly works in the UK being Down Under to manage a folk festival gig. The fact that we can talk by email or other e-means at any time, did not diminish the significance of being physically together in one room again.
I agree with your broader argument and find it—as always—excellent and helpful. But I’m not sure I’d pick Pokémon cards as the perfect example of the value of physicality.
Yes, trading physical cards with real people is certainly better than purely digital, solitary entertainment. But at the end of the day, I’d rather my son didn’t get too deeply into this kind of heavily commercialized franchise, where cheaply produced and overpriced cards become more fascinating than other physical things—whether woodcraft, natural objects, good toys, interesting books, musical instruments, Lego creations, stamps, or anything else that seems more meaningful in itself.
I can’t stand the endless franchise merchandise: Frozen duvets, Paw Patrol fruit snacks, Minecraft shirts, Pokémon cards, Ninjago magazines, and so on. Huge companies use the enormous cultural pull of these franchises to capture children’s curiosity and turn it into repeated consumption and profit.
So while I completely agree with the case for physical things, I’m not sure physicality alone is enough. To me, there's an important distinction between physical things that connect us with God's beauty, creativity, craftsmanship, nature, history, or other people, and physical products whose appeal has largely been manufactured by an enormous commercial franchise. To me, much of the latter feels strangely hollow and artificial rather than wholesome.
Your mileage may vary. I will admit I don’t quite feel this way, but I see why someone might. I don’t think the argument in the article depends on a particularly high view of trading cards (nor was I trying to make a positive case for why people should get into them).