While talking about our upcoming Photon adventure, Jeff brought up an interesting point. Photon, unlike most laser tag arenas of today, had culture.

As I mentioned the other day, the idea for Photon was born out of Star Wars — and while specific Star Wars references were hard to find (and, I’m guessing, intentionally avoided), Photon had a definite theme. Players weren’t referred to as “players” — they were Photon Warriors (and greeted as such upon entering the arena). Photon arenas were complete transformations, labyrinths and ramps covered in gray carpet, washed in red and green lights and, during “intruder alerts”, moving spotlights. Fog filled the ground level of the arena, adding to the atmosphere. And then there was the Photon soundtrack that blasted along during every single game (no pumping in generic rock tunes here).

No one wore camouflage to Photon — why would you? Photon Warriors were outer space combatants, not jungle soldiers. A Photon Warrior’s uniform consisted of as much black as possible, from head to toe. (Well okay, technically not your head — it was covered in a red or green helmet, with a “space lice protector” layered between the two.) It was fairly simple to spot new Photon players; those were the kids wearing white.

Even though I never saw an official map, each section of the Photon arena had a name. The back platform that oversaw the floor below was the Crow’s Nest (or the Sniper’s Nest, depending on where you played). The flat area that sat just above the base? Bookshelves. The center of the arena held a giant bunker. Like grade school kids playing backyard football, crude plans were drawn up before the beginning of each game. “The two of us will run to the Crow’s Nest. You guard the base. After the first Intruder Alert, we’ll come down and relieve you. You two hold the corners for the first three minutes.” I don’t know that any our plans ever worked, but it sure was fun pretending that they might.

And even if you weren’t *playing* Photon, you wanted to be *at* Photon. Downstairs sat a couple of space-themed arcade games (Asteroids and Space Invaders, if I remember correctly). Upstairs sat the snack bar. Overseeing the entire playfield was “the obersvation deck,” an area filled with a dozen or so arcade games and mounted laser guns that visitors could use to shoot players below (the guns did not affect players’ gameplay). Playing Photon was just one part of hanging out at Photon. Strategies and tips were constantly being traded among players. Sometimes, hanging out and talking about Photon was almost as much fun as actually playing Photon. Almost.

Although I never directly participated in one, there were Photon teams and leagues — some local, some regional, some even national. During the mid-to-late 1980s, Photon arenas were opening up across the country. There were only two different layouts for Photon arena, and we (Oklahoma City) had an Alpha Field, the more common of the two. I can remember teams from Dallas visiting our field on a regular basis. Scores and stories were swapped between veteran warriors while younger players sat and listened in awe.

Today, things are different. The closest laser tag field to my house is a mish-mash of thoughts. The motif is equal parts futuristic and Egyptian … because everybody knows how popular the sport of laser tag was among ancient Egyptians. The maze consists of painted plywood, splatter paint and blacklights. The music typically consists of a local radio station being pumped into the arena. Photon made you feel like you were actually being whisked away to Planet Photon. The arenas today make you feel as if you are being whisked away to someone’s warehouse.

The culture of Photon extended beyond the arenas. There were Photon novels, a television show, piles of merchandise and even a home version of the game. But more than that, Photon lived on in the people who played it. The stories of old warriors are still shared today via websites, forums and newsgroups. And maybe that’s why I’m so interested in visiting the Tulsa field this one time. It’s not just about playing Photon — it’s about experiencing that culture, even if it is twenty years later, one last time.