Episode 12: A Mysterious Nintendo Angel
I used to walk home from Lakeridge elementary as a kid. All five years that I went there.
The way was mostly a calm set of side streets with very little traffic, so it was pretty safe. All in all it was about a mile, and took about twenty minutes. Often, my friends and I would toss around a football, across the road, to each other while walking, chatting about whatever, and just enjoying that school was done for the day.
But this one time, while walking between two friends (Matt Mecham and someone else), we were stopped by a guy standing in a driveway.
I don't remember very clearly what he looked like. But, from what I recall, he had the look of a drifter/hobo about him. Unkempt facial hair and raggedy clothes, but I could be totally off-base with that description. (But, for our purposes, feel free to imagine a hobo complete with knapsack on a stick)
What I do remember though, is how he left his driveway and walked up to us, stopping us in our tracks.
He had a grocery bag in his hands and inside it was a Nintendo. I don't know if it was a regular Nintendo or a Super Nintendo (I never could tell them apart--and I still can't).
"Here you go, this is yours," he said.
He looked directly at me (possibly because I was the one standing in the middle) and then he handed me the grocery bag.
"Really?" I was totally shocked, but elated. "Awesome!" I said, feeling penetrated by the jealous eyes of my friends.
"And don't let them take it away from you," the man said, pointing at my two friend. "It's yours. Not theirs."
"Thanks!"
"Aww... Lucky!" My friends both said.
We continued walking, and my day felt infinitely brighter.
I had never had a Nintendo, even though many of my friends did. My dad was against gaming consoles because they wasted time. Time that could be better spent playing outside, or doing housework. So while my friends talked about mario and ... whatever else people played on Nintendo, I was totally out of the loop. But no longer!
Anyway ... Matt Mecham's house was on the way to mine, so we stopped there to show off my new toy. His big brother Mark was at the kitchen table. So we told him our incredible story and took out the Nintendo to show him.
Some small part of us was suspicious that there was something wrong with it, but mostly we were excited--and no one more than me.
Mark inspected it from top to bottom, and with all his 7th grade wisdom he announced that there were "no grooves," etc... so the Nintendo was not rigged to explode.
"It's not a bomb." He declared.
This announcement somehow made the whole thing legitimate in our minds.
So we all agreed on an explanation. "It was probably a dad who didn't want his son to play with it anymore, so he decided to get rid of it." T
Good enough for me.
After school I went to swim practice, as usual. And it just couldn't end fast enough. But while I was gone my parents learned that I had the Nintendo. I don't remember if I bragged to them about getting it, or if they found it in my room. Either way, they were very interested in my story.
Upon seeing sincerity in my eyes, they knew I wasn't making it up. So my dad ordered me to grab the nintendo, put it back exactly how I'd found it, and we would go over together to give it back.
This was very upsetting to me, but I had no other choice. So after a brief temper tantrum I obeyed.
We drove over and I pointed him toward the house where the mysterious man had given it to me.
We stopped the car and knocked on the door.
Several times.
No one answered. And for a minute I was happy--that meant I could keep the Nintendo for at least a day, right?
No such luck.
Dad made me leave it on the doorstep, and I never saw it again.
But, for a few hours, I actually owned a gaming console. And to this day it's the only one I've ever had.
I used to walk home from Lakeridge elementary as a kid. All five years that I went there.
The way was mostly a calm set of side streets with very little traffic, so it was pretty safe. All in all it was about a mile, and took about twenty minutes. Often, my friends and I would toss around a football, across the road, to each other while walking, chatting about whatever, and just enjoying that school was done for the day.
But this one time, while walking between two friends (Matt Mecham and someone else), we were stopped by a guy standing in a driveway.
I don't remember very clearly what he looked like. But, from what I recall, he had the look of a drifter/hobo about him. Unkempt facial hair and raggedy clothes, but I could be totally off-base with that description. (But, for our purposes, feel free to imagine a hobo complete with knapsack on a stick)
What I do remember though, is how he left his driveway and walked up to us, stopping us in our tracks.
He had a grocery bag in his hands and inside it was a Nintendo. I don't know if it was a regular Nintendo or a Super Nintendo (I never could tell them apart--and I still can't).
"Here you go, this is yours," he said.
He looked directly at me (possibly because I was the one standing in the middle) and then he handed me the grocery bag.
"Really?" I was totally shocked, but elated. "Awesome!" I said, feeling penetrated by the jealous eyes of my friends.
"And don't let them take it away from you," the man said, pointing at my two friend. "It's yours. Not theirs."
"Thanks!"
"Aww... Lucky!" My friends both said.
We continued walking, and my day felt infinitely brighter.
I had never had a Nintendo, even though many of my friends did. My dad was against gaming consoles because they wasted time. Time that could be better spent playing outside, or doing housework. So while my friends talked about mario and ... whatever else people played on Nintendo, I was totally out of the loop. But no longer!
Anyway ... Matt Mecham's house was on the way to mine, so we stopped there to show off my new toy. His big brother Mark was at the kitchen table. So we told him our incredible story and took out the Nintendo to show him.
Some small part of us was suspicious that there was something wrong with it, but mostly we were excited--and no one more than me.
Mark inspected it from top to bottom, and with all his 7th grade wisdom he announced that there were "no grooves," etc... so the Nintendo was not rigged to explode.
"It's not a bomb." He declared.
This announcement somehow made the whole thing legitimate in our minds.
So we all agreed on an explanation. "It was probably a dad who didn't want his son to play with it anymore, so he decided to get rid of it." T
Good enough for me.
After school I went to swim practice, as usual. And it just couldn't end fast enough. But while I was gone my parents learned that I had the Nintendo. I don't remember if I bragged to them about getting it, or if they found it in my room. Either way, they were very interested in my story.
Upon seeing sincerity in my eyes, they knew I wasn't making it up. So my dad ordered me to grab the nintendo, put it back exactly how I'd found it, and we would go over together to give it back.
This was very upsetting to me, but I had no other choice. So after a brief temper tantrum I obeyed.
We drove over and I pointed him toward the house where the mysterious man had given it to me.
We stopped the car and knocked on the door.
Several times.
No one answered. And for a minute I was happy--that meant I could keep the Nintendo for at least a day, right?
No such luck.
Dad made me leave it on the doorstep, and I never saw it again.
But, for a few hours, I actually owned a gaming console. And to this day it's the only one I've ever had.
