1988 (C-18)

1988 stands a watershed in the life of Bill. I was in second grade, Mrs. Roma Byrd's class at the Yellow School. There was probably an Olympics going on. I was introduced to Roald Dahl. Apparently my sister was born. But something much greater happend on that Christmas of Chistmases. A love affair began.

Santa gave me a Nintendo Entertainment System.

It's shocking but yet commonplace if you think about it. The video game revolution was breaking out across the country as a duo of plumbers hopped, bashed, and hurled fireballs as they made there way through the Mushroom Kingdom, told frustratingly time after time that the princess was in another castle. From that Christmas on I don't think I knew a kid without a video game system of some kind.

I remember warping the first time from 1-2 to 4-1, then 4-2 to 8-1 and then never making it past 8-3; dying each time as my grandfather mocked my every pratfall. I remember waking up to a surprise gift of Ninja Gaiden from my mother (I finally beat it freshman year at G-town). I remember anticipating every new issue of Nintendo Power and noting every issue my mother has supposedly not thrown away. I remember saving up for a year for Super Nintendo and laughing at Genesis. After that came N64. Then there was Mario Kart in French House, Bond in Foxcroft, and that week during finals where Soto, Moger and myself plowed through the newest Zelda game as Bangus watched. And yes, I was mocked for purchasing a GameCube, but I maintain that it had some of the finest games for this past generation of home consoles.

Anyways, I've scrimped and saved for new Nintendo games, I've studied strategy guides and I continue to play SNES RPGs through an emulater on my laptop. In short: I'm a total dork. A Nintendo star. I accept that. But I'll never forget nor look down upon that Christmas where I torn back wrappin to find one of the most life-changing wastes-of-time of my life.

God bless you, one and all.