The Pokemon revolutiion

July 24, 2016

LAS CRUCES – By the time you read this, it may be too late.

We may already be one Pokémon nation, under Pikachu and at least 151 other Poképersons, firmly locked and loaded and ready for world domination and the new Pokémon world order.

I can’t say we didn’t see it coming.

I first became aware of the Pokémon menace at the dawn of the new Millennium, when grandson Alexander the Great, then a dashing three-year-old, moved to Las Cruces.

Over the next decade, we had many adventures, developed profound bonds, took several hikes, played at lots of parks, went to many movies, parties and art openings, danced and sang and spent way too much time shopping. And through it all, I realize now, too late, there was a constant theme: Pokémon. There were Pokémon games, TV shows, movies, books and parties, posters, medallions and action figures.

And cards. So many Pokémon cards. Almost two decades later, I have a hard time passing the sections of local superstores where the cards were on display. For many years, I tried to take evasive maneuvers,  and find alternate routes so that my grandson’s Poké addiction would not be triggered.

He’s always been a wily lad, and I rarely succeeded. I would find myself in a queue with other daunted parents and grandparents waiting for our little loved ones to get their fix and compare notes. Would this deck of cards finally contain the illusive Pokémon they were seeking?

It went on at school, too, though I seem to remember at least one of Alex’s teachers banning any talk or trading of the creatures in her realm. I wish I’d learned her secret. Alex seemed powerless to resist the siren call of Poképersons (he hated it when I called them that: “NOT PokéPERSONS! It’s PokéMON!” he would shout) and I was powerless to curb his insatiable Poké cravings.

During trips to deliver or pick up Alex, I used to commiserate with other parents and grandparents. It seemed that all of our children were hopelessly addicted, totally in the thrall of the ubiquitous Pokécritters. (I was not allowed to call them that, either.)

It was at one of those school playground gatherings that a group of us decided a conspiracy of monumental proportions was in the works. Something subliminal was going on. Being conscientious and involved adults, we’d watched the cartoons and played the games with our kids. We agreed there was nothing in the simple (and frankly rather unimaginative, even boring) plotlines about Pokémasters training and having adventures with the little creatures that could possibly command such attention and devotion from our otherwise brilliant kids. It had to be something subliminal, something that evil masterminds had devised to appeal and attach only to the brains of young Millennials.

“Someday, when we least expect it, something will trigger in their brains and there will be a world coup, the fulfillment of a nefarious plot,” one of us said. (I won’t say who; not even a Pikachu Thunderstone-enhanced double lightning bolt attack will get me to reveal my source.)

After a while, it seemed the Pokémon were waning, Maybe it was just a fad that would die away, I hoped.

But during a recent visit, Alex, who turns 20 this year, responded a little too eagerly when I asked him if I should throw out a bunch of gold Pokémon medallions I’d found in a box in the hall closet. He grasped them tightly and put them in his suitcase.

This month, I wondered if we’d triggered something. I’ve watched the Pokémon Go feeding frenzy envelop millions, then tens of millions, breaking long-held records for downloads and participation in apps and games, far exceeding Tinder or Candy Crush. The Pokémon Go app craving is more powerful than sex or sugar!

Except it’s more that an app, of course. The conspiracy, the takeover of a generation, has been triggered and the coup is underway.

Last week, an editor who always displayed a maturity and gravitas far beyond his years loudly lamented that there are no virtual Pokémon to be found on the Sun-News premises. When we ran into each other at the supermarket, a world-renowned playwright gloated that he has two Pokémon in his pasture.

It’s begun.

Last weekend, I looked for my first aid kit and emergency provisions in the hall closet and found a Pokémon Pikachu medallion that must have fallen (or bolted) from Alex’s luggage.

I’m keeping it with me. Maybe, in an encounter with our new Pokémon overlords, flashing it will give me just enough time to make good my escape and connect with the resistance.

I hate to caution you not to trust anyone under 30, but until we figure out how to break the Poké spell, stay alert, avoid lightning storms, and may the Force be with you.  

S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at 575-541-5450, dmoore@lcsun-news.com or @derricksonmoore on Twitter.