My first memory of video games was playing the original Zelda at a distant cousin’s house while visiting in Alabama. I remember playing a little, and her explaining things to me, and I recall her talking about not touching the cartridge so it could save properly. I also remember not wanting to leave. This cousin was at least five years older than me, and being an only child, she became the standard for what was cool. Lacking an older sister or brother to give me CDs or help me navigate culture in some other way, she filled that role in the brief time I spent with her.
To further explain, on another visit I watched Beavis & Butt-head with her, blissfully unaware of how controversial it was. The episode I watched involved them washing a dog by putting it in a clothes washer. A couple weeks later my mom asked me about it, having seen an item on the news about how damaging it was, and I can now point to that moment as creating the gap between generations. If I wanted to find what was new and interesting, I had to go out and find it on my own.
The Nintendo seed had been planted. The NES was something other kids had. My cousin and an aunt and uncle had it in Alabama. During a family reunion on the other side of the family, more distant cousins (all older than me) were all upstairs playing Tennis on the NES. I wanted to play. It was unfamiliar and complicated and I had to take turns with all the other kids. My turn to serve, and I’d double fault, which became increasingly frustrating as I had no time to learn how to play, and my older cousins certainly weren’t helping. I went downstairs to the adults, completely pissed off and looking for some sort of recourse from my parents.
My parents had the prospect of driving from Toronto back to Louisiana with me, down the east coast. I was seven, and annoying. My dad said he’d buy me a Nintendo when we got back home, and I was placated. For the rest of the car trip, however, I asked about it constantly, fulfilling my role as the annoying seven-year-old. I was told to not talk about it until we got back to Louisiana or I wouldn’t get one.
The trip from northern Louisiana to northern Alabama was a familiar one–all interstate until Mississippi, at which time we took the Natchez Trace, a scenic two-lane road surrounded by forest, which was entirely boring to a young child. The one landmark between the two places was the bridge over the Mississippi River about a third of the way through the trip. Coming home from the East Coast, I recognized the bridge, and knew we were coming back to Louisiana. About halfway across the bridge, I asked about getting the Nintendo again, fulfilling the bargain to its exact wording. If I remember correctly, I said, “So, what day are we going to get the Nintendo?”
I got my Super Nintendo around July 4, 1992, and it was a gift for my dad as much as it was for me. It was my introduction into the gaming world, and despite time away from video games from time to time, that first taste of Zelda on my cousin’s NES to playing Super Mario World in my own bedroom for the first time set into motion my path to being a gamer and a geek. «»
