Even us fogies play this game.

Byline: Karen McCowan / The Register-Guard

AS A MOM, I vetoed video games in part because of the couch potato factor. Now I'm forced to eat my starchy words.

There's nothing sedentary about the hot new arcade game Dance Dance Revolution.

Forget merely moving your thumbs to make Mario or Luigi jump.

This breakthrough game from Japan's Konami Co. makes you a human joystick as you hop, skip and jump on a platform that records your dance steps - and missteps.

The game is so aerobic, home versions may well muscle their way into the fitness video turf of Richard Simmons and Kathy Smith.

I was introduced to the craze by my 22-year-old daughter.

It was New Year's Eve. By her college student internal clock, the night was still way young after our family had toasted the arrival of 2002 at a friend's party.

Not wanting to admit we now run on the old fogy clock, her dad and I feigned enthusiasm when she proposed setting out - at 12:20 a.m. - for the video arcade at Bethel's Putters indoor miniature golf course.

Even at that hour, the joint was jumpin' with a youthful clientele. And the biggest crowd of all gathered around Dance Dance Revolution.

The game can accommodate only two players at a time, but those waiting their turn were also getting a workout. A crowd three-deep ringed the game with its driving dance beat, memorizing moves and practicing footwork on the floor.

How to explain this game?

Remember the old Arthur Murray dance studio "footsteps-painted-on-the-floor" approach?

Imagine those footsteps painted on a treadmill that just keeps coming at you. That's what you see on the video screen: Arrows tell you when and how long to plant a foot forward, back or sideways on the sensor-equipped dance platform.

When our daughter selected "Have You Ever Been Mellow" from the beginner category, I found that hitting your marks is manageable even for old fogies.

But crank up the beat to the fast-thumping techno tempo of "Paranoia Max," and its like playing "Twister" on a treadmill on speed.

The Dance Dance Revolution crowd at Putters was dominated by middle school kids, but arcade manager Jo Livingstone has seen all ages play the game.

"It's busy from the time we open the door in the morning until we close at midnight," she said. "Sometimes in the afternoons, I'll see older ladies on it. I've also seen mothers and daughters playing together."

During a recent trip to Las Vegas, I watched young adults of both sexes waiting their turn at a casino's Dance Dance Revolution game with the same vulturelike intensity as low-rollers waiting their turn at the $2 blackjack table.

When I returned to Eugene, I found a story on the game's popularity among University of Oregon students in the Oregon Daily Emerald.

The game has spawned a Web site, www.ddrfreak.com, which posts a nationwide list of machine locations. Locally, Fifth Street Public Market's Wunderland and Gateway Mall's Tilt arcades also feature the game. Prices range from 25 cents to $1 for each game, which can last eight minutes or longer for skilled players.

Putters is taking names for an event that will really put Eugene-Springfield on the Dance Dance Revolution map.

"We're planning a double elimination tournament in early March," Livingstone said.

WANTED: SOMEONE to help River Road resident Jan Gabbert play Santa and belatedly deliver a Christmas gift.

Gabbert found the gift literally in her path just before Christmas as she drove west on Irvington Drive.

"I stopped to get it because I was afraid someone would run right over it," she said. "Besides, there's just something about a wrapped gift in the middle of the road. You think, `Gee - it could be worth a million dollars.' '

In this case, the monetary value is relatively small. But the sentimental value is not.

The gift is a framed, cross-stitched message, "Friends Forever."

A card on the back reads, "Merry Christmas Karrie 2001 - Thank you for doing my hair all these years. Dolores LaJoii."

Gabbert phoned every "LaJoii" in the phone book, but no one knew a Dolores. Her own hairdresser also asked around about a local stylist named Karrie. Again, no luck.

"I hate to throw this out without trying everything I could think of, so I called you," she said.

Anyone knowing either giver or intended receiver, please call me.

Karen McCowan can be reached at 338-2422 or via e-mail at [e-mail].