Ohmigawsh. I actually managed to stumble across my old copy of Pokemon Gold in this cesspool I call a room! Naturally, I had to try to find something to play this shiny, glitter-packed thing on, and truthfully, I was a bit anxious to see what my old file looked like. So, I picked up my grey GBA, cleaned it until it was white again, fought for a pair of old batteries, and upon finally getting everything set, strained to see the screen--I have one the old, old arctic white GBA from near first release (it's my baby).
After the signature p-tink sound and "colorful" Game Boy screen, I was treated to the intro cinematic, or what used to qualify for a cinematic ten years ago. It was like a time capsule; I almost could remember all that was going on in the little scenes with over-sized sprites bouncing around. Then, there appeared the title screen, with Ho-oh in all its three color glory! Practically giddy at this point, I press start, and am treated to:
>NEW GAME
>OPTIONS
Yeah, that's right. I apparently forgot that these old cartridges had an internal battery, with a life expectancy of maybe a few years. Sad to see that all that game time was gone; not to mention, I think Gold was where I transferred all my good 'mons to from Red, Blue, and Yellow, so by any luck I have in finding them with a working battery, I'd have to start anew anyway.
It's interesting to look back like that during simpler times and simpler technology. Nostalgia is a pretty fickle thing to begin with, and when the rose tint peels away, it's more or less a nasty burning sensation that remains. Don't get me wrong; I think the entire Pokemon franchise is complete and utter genius for all the wrong reasons, but sometimes, there's nothing that can replace the old memories, while new ones tend to just ruin the old.
While I'm a little bummed to see one of my games die through Alzheimer's, sometimes it can't be helped. It's odd to be reminded that nothing can last for ever by a ten year old GBC game, but I guess it's better than watching a puppy die >.>