A few years ago, our library – somehow – became a PokéStop. No, we didn’t know what that was either until suddenly our parking lot was getting full everyday with people just sitting in their cars, eyes down on their phones or in some cases laptops.
Turns out, we were a Pokémon Go real world location. Players would drive around, find PokéStops, hook onto our wifi and pick up free game items – kind of a digital cafe.
So, we decided to promote that. We posted signs encouraging players to get out of their cars and come on in. Why not play the game in comfort while you’re here.
That Pokémon Go craze last a few months, but Pokémon Go itself is still around. That was my first up close experience with Pokémon, though it feels like the franchise has been around forever.
Actually, Pokémon came into existence on Feb. 27, 1996 as a pair of role playing games created by Japanese video game developer Game Freak. The games were followed by anime, books, toys and of course cards, and Pokémania raged around the world well into the 2000s.
It’s still going strong, as I discovered a couple weeks ago when Uma and I traveled down to the Boston-area for a Pokémon cards and toy convention at a Holiday Inn. There she met up with a new friend, Mia, and the two girls absolutely tore the place up, trading, gabbing, showing off their stuffies, tails and masks and, oh yeah, spending money. The exhibitor hall was absolutely jam-packed, elbow to elbow up and down every row. Us adults had trouble keeping up.
One of the new (to me) aspects of comic-con and pop culture expos is the practice of trading. Both girls had purses full of what they call trinkets – home made buttons, fuzzy worms, stickers and other items. They’d go from attendee to attendee and vendor to vendor trading tchotchkes.
At one table full of young men, the boys fell all over themselves in excitement receiving the little hand-held colorful worm charms. At another table, the girls made friends with a cartoon artist who gave them a bunch of cards for free to take home. In fact, they did pretty well for themselves, managing to be polite and adorable enough to garner and whole host of free toys and cards.
“Oh my gosh, daddy, look at this!” Uma said holding up a fist sized Poké Ball. The vendor was a 3-D Printer Artist and his table was filled with colorful and well made statues, prints and Poké Balls. (Poké Balls, by the way, in the Pokémon universe, are spherical devices used to catch wild Pokémon or store players’ own creatures. Important stuff in the Pokémon world.) “Your library has a 3-D printer, you can make these!”
She ended up buying a smaller key chain size Poké Ball. And I ended up chatting with the 3-D Printer Artist about how to adapt my own printer to create such items for our library kids.
So, here’s the deal. This is all material franchise branding, of course. I get it.
But like Star Trek was to me when I was her age, this is also a place where she is among her own. She can be completely herself, totally who she is. Like going to a rock and roll show where the fans make room for kids at the rail, or the Ren Faires where she’s treated like a princess, there are kids here like her. You can see it in their eyes, the energy and excitement is infectious.
The girls gab happily about things outside adult connection. Every so often they run up and show us adults some new cards or gift or drawing. I mostly don’t understand, but I’m getting there. I know, for example, that the favorite Pokémon of both girls is Eevee, a special ‘evolving’ Pokémon that looks to me like a cross between a rabbit and a fox.
In fact, Uma had hand crafted her own Umbreon mask for this expo. Umbreon is one of Eevee’s evolutions. The mask appears to go over very well with attendees.
I doubt it would surprise anyone reading this that when I was just a bit older than her, I went to my first Star Trek convention, also at a Holiday Inn, where I met Walter Koenig, the actor who played Ensign Pavel Chekov in the original series in the 60s. I wore a blue sweater with a insignia pin and attached a plastic phaser to my belt. We sat in a big circle on the floor as Koenig talked to us about our favorite show and then he signed autographs.
And I remember feeling… happy. Just myself. Surrounded by my friends. Sharing common space. Fifty years from now I want her to remember that feeling as well.
“Daddy, we just are going to go over there and give away some cards to those other kids, ok?”
I nod and watch them squeeze down an aisle, laughing. Happy.
You can reach Dan Szczesny at danszczesny@gmail.com and follow him on Substack.