Thursday, June 14, 2012

Vibram FiveFingers Speed Review: Retro Modern

Today, I published a review of Vibram FiveFingers Speed footcoverings, which is a wonderful combination of road feel, foot protection, retrospective styling, and laces. That's right: laces! From behind and from the sides, the Speed looks like a pair of Airwalk or Vans skater shoes or even old-school Adidas football boots (which is what the British call soccer cleats), but with the separated toe enclosures indicative of any FiveFingers model. Here is a link to that review:


To summarize, the Speed is my favorite Vibram FiveFingers model and is the best one available for overall running performance balanced with an understated, yet funky look. Most of what Vibram has to offer is either gaudily colored, constructed with space-agey materials and design concepts, or both. The Speed is a throwback with minimal style, but with breathable black mesh fabric and strategically placed pads on a 7mm outsole. Thus, the Speed has truly gone "back to the future."

Monday, June 11, 2012

Advance to Boardwalk: 1HN High-Rise Unit Builder

Whenever I go to a retailer like Target or Wal-Mart, I am surprised at the board games I find and how they've stood the test of time. Some games, in my estimation, are worthy of their longevity: Monopoly (in which the outside-the-game-rules negotiations are more fun than the game itself), Stratego, Clue, and Scrabble come to mind. Conversely, there are some games that shouldn't have lasted this long, particularly Risk, which I loathe immensely; I can't count how many times my massive armies have been defeated by "lucky" defense die rolls. Also, games like Sorry! and Trouble seem to make new fans of children every generation because of their tactile in-game elements (like the dice popper in Trouble) and simple rules.

But, some games have come and gone, much to my chagrin. One of those games was Advance to Boardwalk, which Parker Brothers published in the 1980s. It was spun off from the Monopoly universe with Uncle Moneybags prominently included on the packaging and on the in-game cards. The premise of Advance to Boardwalk was deceptively simple: amass more wealth than your opponents by building up units (which are like floors in a skyscraper) that comprise high-priced hotels along a beachfront boardwalk. In the game, you roll a color-coded die to determine which area of properties on which you can build, and another two dice (I think) to determine the total dollar value of units you can build on that color. As gameplay progresses, you can build units on top of other players' units; if your units outnumber an opponent's units, you gain control of the property, which means you move up the boardwalk (which is marked with dollar amounts) and your opponent moves down the boardwalk. Each property has different inherent values, so some properties are more favorable yet more difficult on which to build because a higher rolled amount is required to be able to build on those properties. Along the way, there are "Fortune" cards that either allow a player to gain an advantage (such as "Windfall" cards that provide an infusion of capital for building) or create obstacles for opponents (such as "Hurricane" cards that can wipe the units off a property). Gameplay ends when one player has used up all of his or her units (you get 15-17 units with which to build at the start of gameplay).

As I write this blog entry, I am not aware of the publishing history of Advance to Boardwalk except of what I know personally, but I can safely say that the game was available in the 1980s, but then faded into obscurity. It was only during a recent clearing of my grandma's rafters that I found this game amidst a treasure trove of my old packed games (which included several Nintendo and Colecovision cartridges). I unearthed it, dusted it off, and played a round with my family, who were sadly unimpressed by the game. I suppose that equating units of building to money value isn't as direct or exciting as acquiring a group of properties and then building houses (a la Monopoly). However, I find Advance to Boardwalk to be more rewarding and less time-consuming than Monopoly. Unlike Monopoly, you can gain (and lose) properties each turn; and you can rise and fall so quickly in Advance to Boardwalk, while you tend to amass wealth slowly in Monopoly and then crush opponents quite suddenly until there are two people who own the entire board. Then, it's only a few turns before one player loses his shirt paying the other player an exorbitant amount of rent. While Monopoly games can seem interminable, Advance to Boardwalk can be played in 30-45 minutes and can result in numerous grudges and vows of vengeance, which may spur another game right after it. Okay, I'm joking about the vows of vengeance, but I can see that it would be hard to NOT have a grudge after you watch your opponent build two or three units on your property and usurp the $7 million of value, putting him or her seven spaces up and you seven spaces down -- a 14-space swing!

Anyway, Advance to Boardwalk should've gotten more of a chance at becoming a classic because it really is a fun, addictive game with a deeper layer of strategy than Monopoly, which relies much on dice rolls. In Advance to Boardwark, you do roll to determine how much "money" you have to build, as well as the color of properties on which you build, but you also have to decide (assuming you roll a "10," for instance) if you want to build two units on the $5-million-dollar property (which would move you up five spaces on the board) or two units on the $3-million-dollar one and one unit on the $4-million-dollar one (which would move you up seven spaces). There are many lead changes in the game and, often, it can take one play to reverse your fortunes and win the game, even if you spent most of the game in the back of the pack. If you can find it, I recommend Advance to Boardwalk; challenge even your hard-core gamer friends and let me know how much fun you have from a once-mainstream game.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Simplicity: 1HN Better than Realism

Today, a wistful feeling has overcome me. As I see events unfold around me, I am disturbed and deeply saddened by how my beliefs are challenged and I am viewed as anachronistic and a relic for what I believe...

I'm talking about video games, of course...

Granted, some things haven't changed much since I received my first video game console (a Colecovision) thirty years ago. One thing that hasn't changed is the general popularity of video games. Back in the early 80s, Atari, Intellivison, and Colecovision were extremely popular as game commercials dominated the airwaves, store shelves were well-stocked with games, and most of the kids I knew had at least one of those systems. When the Nintendo Entertainment System came out in 1985, it was an even bigger deal; I have indelible memories of ROB the Robot and Excitebike from times I spent at my friend Brian's house. Fast-forward to now, video games are still popular among the young and now the old, as well. Another thing that hasn't changed is how video games can bring disparate social groups together. Whether it be Starcraft across the Internet or a bunch of neighborhood kids huddled around a Wii, video games unify people. A third thing that hasn't changed much is the characters. Thanks to the staying power of such icons as Mario, Sonic, Snake, Samus Aran, the Belmont family, and Earthworm Jim (he's still popular... right?!), the nostalgia of the past lives in the gloss and sheen of the superior graphics and sound of the present.

However, much has also changed with the passage of time. Some may argue that games nowadays are not as "hard," and that you don't need the practice and precision of past games to master today's games; but some may counter and say that games as less "cheesy" than, say, Ninja Gaiden II or Rush 'n Attack (of which I have a fond disdain). Some may opine about the realism of first-person-shooters and how games just seem more violent today, while some may respond that games are no less violent today than 8-bit shooters like Contra or Metal Gear; "It's not that games are more violent, but that they're just more graphic," some may observe. There is also the complexity of games today, in which you can play for hours on end and barely stratch the surface of a convoluted storyline; conversely, you could finish The Legend of Zelda in eight hours or so (which would be insane, but still...).

One cannot argue with the cliche that "the more things change, the more things stay the same." Yet, as I watch the visual and auditory quality of games escalate with improving technologies, and the sheer number of buttons and analog sticks increase with each new in-game function, I am reminded that today's games lack something that past games had in spades: simplicity. Remember the Atari 2600 with its one joystick and one button? I challenge you to find an easier game to learn, but harder game to master on the Wii than Pitfall was on the Atari with just its one button. Remember the NES with its two buttons, or the Sega Genesis with its three buttons? Remember how easy it was for an inexperienced friend to come over and play games with (or against) you on those consoles because the controls were easier to master? I challenge you to train your inexperienced friend about how to play any current EA Sports game on the XBox and its ten buttons...

Besides simplicity, which factors into what I am about to state, games of the past seem lighter by today's standards. Whereas now one can get lost in a game world and not emerge for days, I could play a Genesis game for a couple hours and then walk away and enjoy the rest of my day. In this way, games today are immersive to a fault. Of course, some may argue that The Legend of Zelda or other older RPGs were the same way, but I could walk away after a few hours. Try doing that with Mass Effect or any of those story-based games... It's difficult.

But, the most apparent difference between the games of the past and today's games is the creativity it took to render great games with such comparatively poor resolution. Compare Super Mario Bros. on the NES to Super Mario Bros. on the Wii; obviously, the Wii trumps the NES big time, but think about the limitations those Nintendo programmers had to overcome to render a classic game on the NES. For the Wii, on the other hand, the developers had much more to work with when it came to graphics and sound.

Upon reflection, my wistful feelings about video games come from remembrances of more carefree times with friends in high school or college when we sat around and laughed at buddies messing up in a game, or discussed strategy or if the Genesis or the SNES versions of games were better. I suppose that kids today may look back on 2012 when they're adults and feel the same. The interesting thing I've observed, though, is that there is a fervent attempt to make games simpler with motion capture, as with the XBox Kinect and the Wii's long-in-the-tooth wand-based controls. Perhaps, we are seeing a renaissance of simplicity in gaming, pulling in a new generation of youngsters, but I contend that the retro-charm of jaggedly rendered 8-bit characters will always transcend the smooth textures of today's sprites because, as with many things in this world, we will always look backwards and remember we could walk away from a couple hours (or less) of play and be satisfied, while one often fills the day with gaming today to get their fix. In this way, realism isn't always good, and I am saddened to see that people today put that much stock in the realism afforded to us by stellar graphics and movie-quality sound when video games are best played as a brief escape from reality.