Just a few years ago, D&D turned thirty. If the upcoming game mechanics she promises are any indication, she is much wiser and more mature than she was in the days of her youth. And since those carefree high school years, much has changed in her life: she's moved out of her parents' house; she's raised enough children to populate a small industry; she's even landed a fancy corporate job.
But D&D still daydreams about her glory days as the shiny new game that took the world by storm. She was going to backpack across Europe, hang with all the rock stars, and write the next great American novel. Somehow, that perky young game turned into a soccer mom with a few gray hairs and a hint of wrinkles around the corners of her eyes. But she has decided that maybe, if she tries really hard, she can still hang on to her childhood dreams...
In short, D&D is having a midlife crisis. She's dropped her conservative print magazine and gone recklessly digital. She's traded her trusty half-orc minivan for that sporty dragonborn convertible she always wanted but could never quite afford. She's slicked back her hair, pasted on some tiefling horns, and silently shouted, "Look at me! I'm still hip! I'm still young!"
The soccer mom of the rpg world has become a desperate housewife: she's away partying so much, her old friends, Bard and Druid, hardly know her anymore; she's been spotted at the Faerunian pantheon's house, getting a bit too friendly with the local deities; and every time her kids have their young, virile WoW server friends over to visit, she goes out of her way to show off her most embarrassingly skimpy outfits. Hello, Mrs. Robinson. Are you trying to seduce me?
And unfortunately for her own self-esteem, D&D might end up being very popular with those virile youngsters for all the wrong reasons. Text removed to avoid offending grandma Yet, behind all her offers of a wild ride, there is something sad to be found in D&D's recent behavior: a desperate cry for help from a game that's afraid to grow old and afraid to grow up.
