Humans are driven to do great things, such noble pursuits as caring for those in need, pursuing the growth of knowledge to advance mankind’s understanding of the world, or protecting human life. There are, however, simpler pursuits with simpler motivations. There are those endeavors in life that provide a distraction from the real world. One of those challenges is the pursuit of collecting. It doesn’t matter what is being collected, but the desire to get more of a “thing” or completing a full set of “things” can be intoxicating.

Growing up, I unintentionally had numerous collections, ranging from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figures to sports trading cards. When it came to action figures, I was not interested in getting the whole set, I just liked the toys and loved adding a new character to the many worlds and scenarios my imagination created. Trading cards, however, plucked a different chord in my developing mind. I sought the best players across baseball, football, and basketball, understanding the more popular the player, the better the card. (Card rarity and its tie to value was still a foreign concept.) Since sports cards were always located near the checkout of whichever store we visited, my parents accommodated my collection by rewarding good behavior during grocery buying or mundane trips to Wal-Mart with a new pack of cards. The brands of Topps, Upper Deck, Score, and Donruss marched through my consciousness, and I feverishly tore into each foil-clad pack with zeal and anticipation. Through the years of the early Nineties, I was able to amass a solid card collection. It was not comprehensive nor necessarily monetarily valuable, but I cherished that cardboard and the perceived value it had to me. At some point during my adolescence, however, it all stopped. Action figures were no longer a draw. Trading cards were no longer a reward. Collecting was replaced by school, activities, and other general life happenings. That is part of the sad commentary of getting older: losing touch with those things that bring us happiness. We may not even realize that loss is happening until realizing we are in a place where the person we became does not reflect the person we truly are.

Yet, fast forward twenty years, a yearning for a steady nostalgia drip coupled with adult money led to a collecting rebirth. The Nintendo 64 games I wanted but never had growing up? Check. G.I. Joes? Check. Modern baseball cards? Check. These are all meaningless baubles that bring me happiness and resurface pleasant memories. They sparked my imagination and allowed me to reconnect with a core part of my being that had been ignored. As my dormant inner-collector emerged from hibernation, I discovered there is a sub-culture and market devoted to nostalgic collecting. Toy and game companies continue tapping into this market with re-releases, remasters, and emulated experiences (I’m looking at you Nintendo). It is peak nostalgia season for 80’s and 90’s kids. I’m happily swamped by all those things that defined my childhood.

Now, I added a new collection in order to connect with my girlfriend’s kids and, surprisingly, my sister and her boyfriend: Pokémon. When Pokémon Red came out for the original Gameboy, I was all over it. Maybe I didn’t understand how they rose to prominence (the brand, not Pokémon themselves) or why, but Ash’s quest to catch them all gave me hours of entertainment, as did several of the subsequent releases. The feeling of choosing a starter among Squirtle, Charmander, or Bulbasar (my guy) stuck with me throughout the years and was certainly a memorable life milestone. I never, however, got into the trading cards. In 2022, that changed. After seeing my sister at Christmas and marveling how she went all-in on Pokémon collecting, and knowing how fanatical my girlfriend’s boys are over the cards and game, I threw my wallet into the ring. Currently, Pokémon is in the Sword & Shield and Celebrations iterations, and I have been vigorously pursuing packs and boxes, obviously trying to catch them all. Collecting Pokémon cards has awakened a joy and excitement in me that punches the same chord from my childhood. I figure, there are plenty of grown-up responsibilities that occupy 90% of my life, so dipping back into an activity that spurs imagination and acts like an injection of youth is probably okay.

Collecting may not be a “great” thing. It’s not saving lives or changing the world, but it is an expression of individuality and a way to connect with those who have similar interests. The ability to forge relationships based on shared interests can be a buffer to the realities of the world that otherwise occupy every aspect of day-to-day life. Additionally, collecting can be rewarding as a payoff for the hard work applied elsewhere. Whatever the motivations, collecting is a hobby, and hobbies are good. In the end, what those hobbies mean personally are their real value, and that’s all that matters.