By March, I'll be a married man. I'm about to start my own family, and what comes next scares me. Not just because I worry about providing for my future wife and children. I also dread the shifting priorities my new role will require. Within this year, I'll morph from a carefree bachelor who has paid for gadgets, video games and other technological wonders into a miserly husband who'll watch every centavo spent.
This kind of transition is common to anyone with an expensive passion. Bikers will sell their dream two-wheeler to pay off housing and tuition loans. Divers will travel to distant pristine reefs and marine reserves less, as they realize a visit to Tubbataha Reef isn't worth keeping bills unpaid. Techies like me will opt for purchases that will remain useful for years, instead of chasing after the market's newest offerings.
Every year, I'd spend around P2,000 on Steam, an online catalog of video games for the PC and Mac. For the holiday season, Steam slashes the prices off many popular games. What used to cost P900 suddenly retails for seven hundred less. These discounts are like the ones you'll find every year at your nearest mall. The new prices — especially for items you’d had your eye on all this time — are just too low for you to resist.
The hidden cost of these new games in my collection? Annual computer hardware upgrades amounting at least P30,000, to keep up with the increasing demands of these virtual toys. These kind of purchases aren't sustainable, when I'll have to start paying off our new house, and save up for my future kids' tuition.
Marriage is a call for me to stop the selfishness of childhood, and make the personal sacrifices effective manhood (and perhaps future fatherhood) demands. Goodbye marathon gaming sessions, goodbye frequent gadget purchases, goodbye cutting-edge consumer electronics. I'll be seeing you around, once I hopefully get the hang of these "budgeting", "career" and “time management” things.
My fiancé shouldn't worry. I'm not getting cold feet. And giving up regular gaming and trendy geekiness isn't the biggest sacrifice in the history of mankind. Just ask caring parents who go hungry so that their kids can eat, or children who stop school for a year so that their family can raise enough money for medicines and other basic necessities. It's just that letting go of things that have been part of my life for so long isn't easy, no matter how trivial they are.
I’m letting go for the chance to face the future with some help. My sacrifices were all planned out the moment I decided to propose last year, because I knew that spending the rest of my life with someone I love was worth giving up command of virtual armies, neglecting the relationships I’ve built through online gaming arenas, and considering the street cred of the latest gadgets less important.
Besides, I’ve always believed that enjoying the benefits of consumer technology never required significant investment, in time or money. A large part of my writing career is based on helping other people find the best option for their budget or level of commitment. Looks like I’ll start applying my (I hope useful) wisdom more for myself, as I scale down my carefree geeky lifestyle by intent. I’ll limit the options in one area of my life, so that I can fully enjoy the more rewarding aspects of another.
And I know you can still indulge your inner geek, even if you limit your money and time on tech. My future father-in-law was known for his prowess with the Family Computer. For those who were born after the 90s, the Family Computer was the predecessor of modern gaming consoles like the PlayStation 3, the Xbox 360 and the Wii.
Coming home after a tiring day of work, he’d unwind by playing Battle City with his kids. In the classic video game, you maneuver a tank around a maze, attempting to line up clear shots against enemies while protecting your base.
The Family Computer supported two players. In the game they could fight each other, or team up against the computer. My fiancé’s dad would choose the first option to appease his offspring (who were eager to take turns after each round as his wingman) then “accidentally” kill his teammate with friendly fire. It was his way of ensuring he’d play the computer by himself as a true test of his skills, while having some fun at his kids’ expense.
Maybe I’ll also have five kids and take advantage of their naiveté in a future version of Modern Warfare 3, Team Fortress 2 or NBA 2K12. And maybe they’ll be wowed by my skillful use of the Samsung Galaxy S X and the iPad 14. At least until they start beating me in games I’ve never heard of, or save up enough money for gadgets that put mine to shame. At least I’ll be able to warn them about the worst things you can encounter online.