It’s raining here. Not just a little rain, oh no. Big rain – big clouds, big thunder, big lightening. The works.
When this happens, I always think about living in South Carolina, the little blue house we lived in for several years, all through my teenage years. I miss it immensely; it was really the first place that was ever ‘ours’. I remember it had that huge, brick-red concrete porch with a roof over it, and so many days like this were spent in the swing with a book, watching it pour down; I’d only get up if I started to get wet too.
It’s amazing what you discover about yourself when you indulge in nostalgia, really.
But this post isn’t about rain – not even about a little blue house on Hub Greer road, either. It’s more about my youth, and what I spent so many days doing.
I was a voracious reader as a child, it’s true; many of my afternoons involved a tall wingback and a book – either one of the Redwall series, or Stephen King. The latter has, in all fairness, never left my side. I’ve read so many King books it’s not even funny – though I haven’t devoured all of them, truth be told. I never finished the Dark Tower series, if only because I couldn’t bring myself to. I think I knew from the start that it wouldn’t end well – it was all bad business, as Golding put it – and the 4th book, Wizards and Glass – was so dreadfully boring that I just couldn’t get past that point.
However, if I was not with a book? I was with a game. I had a Gameboy back then, and I put that sucker through it’s paces. That, and my best friend’s brother’s Nintendo – not to mention Billy and Ann’s. Castlevania and Mario and Rampage and Metroids. Ah, Metroids. How I loved this game. I knew about Justin Bailey and I knew Samus was a chick, and that always knocked my socks off – that the person running around in this huge, bulky armor, was actually a woman.
So. Anyone wanna guess what I’ve spent the past week playing?
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