Christmas Time is Here Again!

Well it’s December, which means it is Christmastime again! Actually according to most stores and radio stations, it’s been Christmastime since October….but that’s beside the point. It’s that time of year where we celebrate the past year and look forward to the one upcoming. We spend time with family and friends in our tacky sweaters, put up trees, light the lights, deck the halls, and all that fun stuff. Emotions run high, from stressing about gifts and travels, to rest and relaxation, and for children that all too familiar anxiousness that comes with Christmas Eve.

I love the hustle and bustle of the holidays. Maybe that’s weird, but I enjoy going out with the crowds and observing what’s going on. Seeing all the lights and listening to Christmas music….as long as it is good (I’m looking at you Justin Bieber, Jonas Brothers, the little girl who wants a hippo for Christmas, and Dominick the Donkey….). Bundling up and wandering out, getting a warm beverage and taking it all in always brings a smile to my face. Also the gift giving…I’ve always enjoyed giving gifts. Finding that one perfect gift for someone and then seeing their reaction when opening it. That’s one of the best feelings ever!

Perhaps my favorite thing about Christmas is the different traditions that people have. Some people have a big dinner on Christmas Day; some people have a routine of travel that takes all day long. One of my ex-girlfriends’ family always went to the movies on Christmas Day. Traditions do however have a way of changing. As far back as I can remember, we would get up on Christmas morning and see what Santa had brought, spend a little while playing with our stuff, then we would get dressed and make the 30 minute drive out to Grandma’s house in Spring Hope, where we would have a big meal and then open presents with my dad’s side of the family. (We would always spend Christmas Eve with my mom’s side) As the years went on things changed. Grandma had a stroke, and we would shift over to my uncle’s house on Christmas Day. After Grandma passed away the traditions changed again to what they are today.

Now it’s no secret that my brother absolutely loves Christmas, and every year he would make a deal with mom and dad about what time we would get up on Christmas morning. Christmas Eve has a candlelight service at my parents church, and then my moms’ side of the family comes over and we have finger foods (including mom’s amazing taco dip), and we exchange gifts with them. After that “It’s A Wonderful Life” is on and we usually catch the last half of that (to this day, I’ve only seen it from beginning to end once – when we showed an original print from the Capra family at UNCW). Josh and I would then go to bed with whatever Christmas specials on TV…and later it would be the 24 hours of “A Christmas Story.” One of us would always be awake, and we would usually get together in one of our rooms and speculate about the following morning until we fell asleep. Once we woke up, we would get mom and dad up….but we were not allowed to go downstairs until mom and dad went down and saw what we got. (For a long time, Santa didn’t wrap presents…) Even now we still wait for mom and dad to go downstairs before we do….it’s kind of fun that way. After we do the gift exchange dad cooks a big breakfast complete with some of the best country sausage ever from Smith’s Red & White in Dortches, NC. Granny and James (my mom’s mother and step-father) come over and we have breakfast together, then after they leave Josh, dad, and I sit around watching TV and playing with our stuff while mom goes and takes a nap. And that’s Christmas for us.

Now I know there are a lot of people who celebrate Christmas, but do so under another name. So many people get offended that the holiday is called Christmas and has religious implications, but that’s what it started out as in one way or another. From the ancient Greeks celebrating Saturnalia, to people celebrating the winter solstice, to Christians celebrating the (observed) day of Jesus’ birth; the holiday has always had some sort of spiritual meaning, and has embraced many pagan traditions as well. The one thing that hasn’t changed over the years is the idea that it’s a time of togetherness and good cheer.

So whatever you celebrate, however you celebrate…I hope that it’s a good one. Here’s to you and yours this holiday season.

Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and may your traditions stay strong and true.

7 Years

In early 1989 my family and I lived in a small three bed, one bath home on Brown Drive. Mom worked at the elementary school that I went to, dad worked at an auto parts store at the time (I think), and I was in first grade. I had my Nintendo and Saturday morning cartoons, Ghostbusters and Nickelodeon….everything a 6 year old could want. One morning I came in the living room and found mom crying, and I asked her if she was sad. She said she was fine and that it was a happy crying. As a kid you only really cry when you’re sad or hurt, so this didn’t make sense to me. She told me to run along and play, and later her and dad sat me down and told me that I was going to have a little brother or sister in a few months.  I remember being very excited about this prospect. 

The summer went by and mom got bigger. I had my 7^th birthday party, which was interrupted by rain (26 of my 29 birthdays have been in some form or fashion…one almost killed me, but that’s another story), and school started back as usual. October rolled around and it was getting close to my best friend Shaune’s birthday. His party was on a Saturday and we had a great time. The next day dad came in my room and told me that I was going to have to stay with my friend Scott for the night. I thought that was odd since it was a Sunday, and it was a school night.

That night I went to the hospital with my grandparents to meet my little brother, Josh, for the first time. It was weird…I knew I was small, but he was just plain tiny. I had never held a baby before, and was terrified of dropping him. After mom came home it was pretty cool to have her home all the time and to have a baby that just looked up and laughed when you made faces at him. Very entertaining! As he got a little older mom decorated his room with large all stickers of the Disney Babies. One near his crib was Goofy, and every night before bed, mom would hold him up and he would “pat Goofy night-night” by reaching up and patting the sticker with his hand. We still have that wall cling somewhere in the attic.

Over the next few months a lot of things changed. Josh learned how to crawl, I finished the 2^nd grade and we moved into a new house. We had a birthday party for Josh turning one, and we have photos of him in his high chair, face absolutely smeared with chocolate ice cream. The small piece of cake fully intact, but the ice cream was decimated….though most of it was on his face. Christmas came and every year it was the same story, we’d go to open presents and Josh would head straight for my stuff, leaving his behind. Though mostly because mine had bigger boxes…he’d grab the toy, put it in his mouth until someone took it away, pitch a mini-fit, then turn to the boxes and be content again. 

Eventually Josh learned how to talk and walk with regular ease and went from a baby to a kid who had his own likes and dislikes as well as being someone that could play with us. One day we were playing around in the den and Josh was running around at full speed laughing. He tripped and fell, hitting his head against a piece of furniture. Just like that he went from being happy and giggling to lying on the floor screaming in pain.  It was so sudden, so fast that I didn’t know what to do so I cried with him. That had an impact on me that I wouldn’t realize until much later. 

In 1992 I had to have a bone-graft surgery due to my cleft palette. It was done at Duke and I was there for about a week since they had to take part of my left hip out and fuse it with bones in my mouth, so I couldn’t walk. Josh was only three at the time and didn’t make the trip up there with us. The doctors told me that if I could walk without pain, then I could go home. I didn’t think that I could do it because I was still in a lot of pain. One night dad drove home to pick up Josh while mom stayed with me in the hospital. When he got home he called mom to tell her that he had picked up Josh and gotten home okay. I asked dad if I could talk to him, and when dad asked Josh if he wanted to talk to me he said no. It was pretty late and I guess he was tired. I remember that being the only time that I cried around the surgery. It was then that I decided I had had enough and was ready to go home and see my brother. I told the doctors that I wanted to walk, and walked down the hall. They asked if it hurt and I lied my butt off and told them it didn’t. I just wanted to go home and see Josh.

1993, Josh is 4 years old and we sit down to watch a movie. This was a critical turning point for him. We start the movie; it’s a pretty dark movie with some bad guys robbing a stereotypical family, taking dad’s wallet and mom’s jewelry. Josh is pretty interested in what’s going on since the bad guys are suddenly running away from noises coming from places they can’t see. Suddenly, they were knocked down and beaten up. That’s when Josh got his first full view of Batman. After that, it was all over with. Josh would tie a towel around his neck and use it as a cape and would be Batman all the time. Around this time the animated series began, further fueling the fire. A family friend of ours actually made him a Batman cape and he wore it all the time. For his birthday that year, there were Batman toys aplenty, but what Josh really wanted was a Little Tykes Cozy Coupe. (You remember that red car with the yellow top that you could push around or go Fred Flintstone style with your feet?) We were all sitting around in the den, listening to Josh explain his new Batman toys to us when the garage door opened, and there was dad, pushing the Cozy Coupe up toward the house. Josh stopped, jumped to his feet and yelled out “My car!!” and ran outside with a grin on his face that mom and I wish to this day we had on film. After that there were tons of times where I would be pushing the car while Josh wore his Batman cape, pretending that the car was the Batmobile. Things were simple and fun. 

Years passed and we got older. Josh got into video games and we would play Nintendo until we fell asleep in the summertime.  Batman gave way to Power Rangers and we would watch it after school. We moved once again and Josh actually got the bigger of the two rooms (for a while…). That fall we started a tradition we keep to this day. On Christmas Eve we would gather in the same room and watch Christmas specials (and later the “24 Hours of ‘A Christmas Story’”) until we eventually fell asleep. One thing you have to know is that Josh absolutely loves Christmas. He’ll listen to Christmas music as early as possible, he just loves it. So every Christmas he bargained with mom and dad about what time to get up to open presents and see what Santa brought. He would sneak into my room and wake me up (even though I was already up….) and then we’d go get mom and dad. Our house is two stories, and Josh and I would sit at the top of the steps and wait for mom to go downstairs and look on in awe, then tell us we could come down.

He started Cub Scouts and did bowling, baseball, and a bunch of other activities. He got really into Pokemon and played the card game heavily. I tried to learn but it was beyond me. One summer Josh got a Sega Genesis and the Sega Channel, which plugged into the system and let you get games through the cable. It was pretty advanced for the time. We would get up early on the first day of each month and see what new games were available to play. We would play Earthworm Jim, Toe-Jam and Earl, Vectorman and all kinds of games. We played football in the yard, and I would strap one of dad’s motorcycle helmets on him and be a little bit rough with when tackling. I thought the helmet would be just fine…but never thought about him not having pads on. Oops. We got a basketball goal and played one on one all the time, with me winning most of the time due simply to size….but every now and then he’d get the better of me, and it pissed me off.

By the time I got to high school things started to change. I had to worry about my own self-image and maintaining my circle of friends as well as my girlfriend. This is where I’ve always felt that I failed as an older brother. Seven years is a very big difference when you’re in high school and in my mind I seem to remember being away a lot with my own friends and not spending time with Josh. I know he had friends of his own, but being his age and unable to drive I just have these visions of him sitting at home alone, playing in his room waiting for me to come home. And when I did I was usually involved in my own stuff and not spending as much time as I could. Even if it’s not true, I wish I could change it.

Before I went off to college I wrote mom and dad a letter, and Josh a separate letter. I don’t really remember what I wrote, but I know that it referenced a lot of the things we did together, and that I would come home when I could and see him. The day I left for school mom and dad rode in a truck together, and Josh rode with me. I remember us listening to music that we both liked. We talked about how I’d be home and I made sure he was okay with me being away. He said he was and held his composure pretty well….I don’t know if it was real or not. We moved me in and got things settled, and I said my goodbyes and told them all not to cry. I really figured mom would be the worst, but from what I’ve been told it was dad who was torn up the most!

Freshman year I went home often and called when I could. When Rocky Mount finally got high speed internet and Josh got his own computer we were able to IM back and forth and keep up that way. Holidays were great because since most of my stuff was at school I spent a lot of time in Josh’s room watching tv or playing games while he played with me or was doing stuff on the computer. The summer after freshman year was one of my favorites, mostly because of what Josh and I would do. We would sit up late nights after I got home from work and watch Conan O’Brien, then watch the reruns from weeks before that came on later. In between we would take turns working through Resident Evil 2 for Playstation or would watch this show on MTV where people would vote on what video they would play next, and we’d go online and vote too. We saw stuff on Conan and Letterman that we still laugh about today, including “Max, the Existentialist Storyteller,” deleted scenes from “The Score” that had Marlon Brando call someone a sweetheart and then “fall” through the floor, or the Letterman specials where he worked at the Drive Thru at Taco Bell that had him confuse a lady so bad that she drove off, prompting the next guy to tell him “She’s gone already, chief!” To us, that was about as funny as it got.  

The next year was more of the same, and that summer was fun as well. I took Josh to see Spiderman the night before dropping him off at camp for two weeks. It was then that I finally got a feeling of what it was like on his end….and I didn’t like it. All I wanted to do was spend time with my brother, but he was off doing his own thing. While I missed him and didn’t want him to go, I was proud of him at the same time. When he came home we did much of the same as we did the previous summer….but he was getting older and becoming more of who he is today, and I knew that I might not be back the next summer….things were changing yet again. 

When I moved into my first apartment in college, Josh came with my parents to help move me in and bring my bed and desk and large items. I was going to come home the next weekend anyhow (for what I don’t remember) so I convinced Josh to stay with me for the week and we had a great time with my roommates in Wilmington. We went to an Orioles game in DC and to the Blink-182 concert in Raleigh. It seemed that I was doing my best to include him as much as possible, and making the best of the time I had with him.  This continued for a few more years, and every time I went home he got bigger and smarter…and better. There was a shift that occurred where it seemed like he was influencing me more than I was influencing him. I picked up on some of his music and started to like using a Mac. He started making more jokes that were some of the funniest things I’d heard in a long time, and it was fantastic.

I moved to Greensboro in January 2007, and that fall Josh moved to Wilmington to start college at UNCW. Of course I went to help move him in and help show him around town. While I did visit Wilmington quite a bit that year, I decided to let Josh have his own college experience and not spend all my time down there with him. The next year I would stay with him when I visited and have ever since, but that first year I felt like it was important to be an older brother again, give advice and stay out of the way  and not a buddy who is always around. There are still days where I think about how cool it would be to live in Wilmington again, just to be in the same city as my brother one more time. 

Josh turns 22 this week, which is so very strange for me. In my eyes he’ll always be middle school age. It’s so hard for me to think of him as an adult. When it comes to my brother there are many times where I feel like I let him down. Mostly in high school when he was little and I feel like I wasn’t around as much as I should have been. And right after that leaving for college and leaving him there alone and without his brother. I know how my brain works and how I tend to focus on a lot of the more negative times than the positives, and seeing how my dad and his brother aren’t very close bothers me that the same thing might happen between my brother and me. I feel like there are times now where I tend to spoil him, and I don’t care. I don’t know, maybe it’s me subconsciously trying to make up for doing what most people my age would normally do, or maybe the idea of him being unhappy or hurt like he was when he was little just wrecks me and I have to do whatever I can to make sure that doesn’t happen. Or maybe it’s a fear that we’ll grow apart….I don’t know. But one thing I do know, I love my brother more than just about anything else in this world and I’ll always try to make up for lost time, and will always be there for him.

Also, Josh if you’re reading this, I hope I didn’t embarrass you.

The King of Horror

It’s amazing how reading works for me. Not the act of reading, that’s pretty simple, but more so the way I read books. I always say that I have to be in the mood to read a book in order for me to finish one in any amount of time. I think this stems from middle and high school, when you’re forced to read books that while they are classics, sometimes they aren’t really all that interesting. "Great Expectations," "Les Miserables," "The Pearl," "As You Like It," and other are fantastic books, but they didn’t hold my interest at all. (No offense if you really like any of those) Granted there were books like "Lord of the Flies" and "All Quiet on the Western Front," but in general I never really liked books in school.

Flash forward to 9^th grade. I was flipping channels on day and came across the Sci-Fi (not SyFy, whatever the hell that is) channel and there was a movie on about a clown in a storm drain. Weird? Yes. Oddly interesting? Yes. While I didn’t get to finish the movie, I found out that it was “It” by Stephen King. Having only heard of King’s works and movies, I was quite interested in reading more. So I went to Books-a-Million and picked up “It” in paperback. I read the first 100 pages that day. The storytelling was fantastic. I took that book everywhere I went and it lasted about a month and a half (the paperback edition was about 1100 pages…way to ease into a body of work, right?).

I don't know why, but that cover is oddly intriguing.

I like to say that I was spoiled by reading “It” first. A lot of people I’ve talked to have read some of his other works first and got turned off. But for me, that was like a gateway book. After “It” I picked up “The Shining” and breezed through it and loved every page. It was as if a whole new world had been opened up to me. Stories that were mildly twisted and at times quite frightening were appealing to me. Over the summer I read “Christine,” “Misery,” “Pet Sematary,” “Cujo,” and “The Dark Half.” I was reading at a crazy pace, and loved it. “Christine” was an easy read, and very entertaining when you think about a car being possessed and hunting people down. “Pet Sematary” is one of those rare cases where the movie is slightly better than the book. Don’t get me wrong, the book is great, but the movie was much creepier. “Cujo” is one of the rare instances where King doesn’t use anything supernatural, and it works very well. You could imagine being trapped in a car (in 1980…before cell phones), with a rabid Saint Bernard outside in the middle of summer. A pretty dire and frightening situation if I say so myself.

When it came time for us to pick a book to read for my American Literature class, we were given the option to choose any American writer, so long as the book was over 125 pages. Of course I picked Stephen King and chose the book “Bag of Bones” which clocked in at 529 pages. The report was to be 10 pages, and include chapter summaries. Well mine ended up being 26 pages and the chapter summaries were insanely long. I’m pretty sure I got an “A” simply because Mrs. Hudson didn’t want to read the whole thing. I read “The Stand” over the latter part of my Junior year and into the summer (1125 pages) and it is still one of my favorite books I’ve read. The sheer scope of the story and characters is staggering, and after I finished reading it, I wanted to go back to page one and start again. It’s really that good.

On September 14, 1999 the book “Hearts in Atlantis” came out and of course I picked it up right away. Two days later Hurricane Floyd came through Eastern NC and flooded a good part of Rocky Mount and left us without power for about a week. Needless to say I finished that book in less than a week and shortly after we had power back I went after my next books. “The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon” was a quick read, a shorter story about a girl lost in the woods who listens to Red Sox games on a walkman to keep her company. Sadly, “The Tommyknockers” was a huge disappointment. King does a lot of things very well, story, characters, creating an environment that’s so real you feel like you’re there….but science fiction isn’t one of the things he does well. I never really liked the characters and the story was just plain boring to me. I rediscovered this later on in 2002 when I read “Dreamcatcher,” which was pretty good but wasn’t one of his better works. I attribute it to the fact that he wrote it after his accident where he was struck by a van and was immobile for a long time. After that I finished “The Long Walk,” which is the book that I point people to if they have never read a King book before. Another one that doesn’t have anything supernatural in it, but is more character and dialogue based that really engages the reader.

Through my college years my King reading slowed, only plowing through “Dreamcatcher” before the movie came out. Again, I was disappointed by the science fiction writing. However my disappointment was short lived when “Cell” was released. Wasting no time, things went horribly awry on the 6^th page and it didn’t let up from then. I really enjoyed it as it was a new take on the “zombie” genre.

Several of my friends who know that I like King’s works had told me that I needed to read the Dark Tower series, which is a 7-book epic. Not being a big fantasy fan I dismissed it initially, but my friends continued to tell me how good it was. My friend Spence lent me his copy of “The Gunslinger,” which I tried to read two or three times before giving up. It was so dry and initially uninteresting. I shelved it for a while and moved on to the newest tree-killer of a novel: “Under the Dome.” Many people who read it will think of it as a serious version of “The Simpsons Movie” since the plot shares the fact that a town in encased in a giant dome. That’s where the similarities stop, and where King’s ability to draw out suspense and create characters that you really care about and villains that you absolutely hate.

Around Christmas 2010 I was trying to figure out what to get my mother for Christmas. I came to the conclusion that she might enjoy a Kindle or a Nook, and began doing research on them. After finally deciding on a Kindle (which she loves, btw), I began to want one myself. Prior to this I had no desire for one, but after I looked at them long enough I thought that I may actually read more if I had one. So, being a single man with disposable income, I bought one. My first goal was to give the Dark Tower series another try. What I found was that with the Kindle I wasn’t as discouraged by books as much. Personally I like to read in bed, and having an 8-pound book sitting on your chest is uncomfortable, and when you’re 500 pages in and it’s only halfway, it can be discouraging to me when so much has happened and I’m not even halfway done! With the Kindle it’s just one page after one page, so to me it’s easier to read that way. Plus it’s a hell of a lot lighter, and if I drop it, I don’t lose my place.

Having a shiny new toy I decided to push through “The Gunslinger,” and after I finished it, I was mildly impressed. The story was decent and the character of Roland is one of the most complex that I’ve read. It took me about 3 weeks to push through “The Gunslinger,” which is the shortest of the Dark Tower 7. As soon as I was done, I picked up “The Drawing of the Three,” hoping that it was better than the first. Well, two weeks later I was already reading “The Wastelands” and 3 weeks after that I was on “Wizard and Glass” (I read mostly at night before bed, so it takes more time now). The books have been fantastic and each one keeps getting better and better. However, after spending 4 books in the world of Roland and his Ka-tet, I decided that I needed a break from the Dark Tower series, and have gone all the way back to his second book ever published; “’Salem’s Lot.” I finished it last night and thought that it was a really good book, even though it does do one thing that a lot of King’s books do…let’s just say the cast of characters at the end is significantly less than at the beginning!

A lot of people branch out and read books by many different authors, and while I know that I probably should, I really enjoy King’s works, and you’ll notice that I quote him (or his works) often in this blog. And as long as there’s a backlog of books that I haven’t read, I’ll continue to be one of his so-called “Constant Readers.”

My "King List" (In order):

It
The Shining
Christine
Cujo
Pet Sematary
The Dark Half
Bag of Bones
Misery
Thinner
Different Seasons
The Stand
The Tommyknockers
The Green Mile
The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon
Hearts in Atlantis
The Long Walk
Storm of the Century
Rage
Dreamcatcher
Cell
Everything’s Eventual
Nightmares and Dreamscapes
Just After Sunset
Under the Dome
The Gunslinger (Dark Tower 1)
The Drawing of the Three (Dark Tower 2)
The Wastelands (Dark Tower 3)
Wizard and Glass (Dark Tower 4)
‘Salem’s Lot

If you have your own "King List," next book suggestions, or a list by any other author, please share! 

A 'Legend' 25 Years in the Making

As you can probably tell by now, this has pretty much shifted from a random thought blog to a memory blog. I'll get back to the randomness soon enough, but I have a little more nostalgia to get out, so bear with me.

Ask any male in between the ages of 25 and 35 what they remember about their childhood. You'll most likely get the expected responses such as playing tee ball or pee wee football, first days of school and going through grade school, going on vacations with family, or remembering the arrival of a little brother or sister. However I can almost guarantee that they will have another memory: Nintendo.

In October of 1985 the Nintendo Entertainment System was released in North America, along with 18 launch titles. After the video game crash of 1983, people were hesitant to purchase video games again, so Nintendo decided to call their little grey box an 'Entertainment System.' The system came with a pack-in game that would change the face of both the entertainment industry and a generation of kids: Super Mario Brothers. Tight gameplay, colorful worlds and a memorable score made both the game and the system a hit. Shortly after that, Nintendo and Mario were everywhere...cereals, TV shows, curtains (which I had), you name it and Nintendo was on it. It even made it's way into a quick scene in Ghostbusters II. Nintendo ruled the freaking world.

My 9-year old mind: BLOWN

My mother's friend Terri had one, and whenever I went over to her house I played it when I could and had a blast. Then, one birthday I opened the big box present from my parents and staring back at me was my very own NES. I played Mario and Duck Hunt for weeks on end, sharing Mario secrets with friends and trying to beat the game. (Oddly enough a feat I did not accomplish on the first Mario game until many years later)

Cut to Christmas, the season when little kids' dreams are filled with wonder and anticipation. What can really live up to that? I had no idea what to expect. I awoke Christmas morning and was pleasantly surprised with the games 'Kung Fu' and 'Mach Rider.' A karate and a motorcycle game? That's 'Kid Nirvana,' and I was riding high. I honestly thought I was going to die when I opened my Ghostbusters soundtrack tape....for me it could get no better. And I was wrong.

The last present I noticed was one more NES game that I hadn't heard very much of, but instead of the standard gray cartridges that NES games came in, this one was gold. It was 'The Legend of Zelda.'

Who gives a crap if it's good or not, it's freaking GOLD!

A whole new world lie before me, with no specific place to go and the ability to roam free through the land, this was the game for kids with imagination. You could lose yourself imaging what the creatures looked like and trying to figure out the puzzles to reach the underground labyrinths. My best friend Shaune and I double teamed the game, one of us would play through and the other would be the "map master" and would navigate and help with strategy to help the other make it out alive. Unlike Mario games, what made this one so unique was that it had a battery backup built in to the cartridge to save your progress (the first of it's kind), because the game was so big it couldn't be finished in a single setting.

After you fought your way through the 8 dungeons and collected the treasures within, slew the boss and collected the fragment of the Triforce, you made your way up Death Mountain. Epic stuff. You would then enter Level-9, which might have well been a game of it's own. It was HUGE! After you found the red ring and silver arrows, you would finally make your way to face Ganon, a pig-like monster who became invisible and shot fireballs at you. If you managed to hit him with your sword 5 times, he would turn red. Nail him with the silver arrow and poof! All that was left was the Triforce in a pile of dust. In the next room was Princess Zelda. The game was over and the credits rolled. But wait....what's this? "Another Quest Will Start From Here....Press Start." Hm. Okay, it looks the same....but it's not. Levels are moved, enemies are tougher. It's another game in one!

At this point kids everywhere were floored. Probably the only thing that floored us more (video-game wise) at this time was the discovery in the game 'Metroid' that the bad-ass gun toting, missile shooting alien killer was in fact, a woman. After that there was Zelda 2, which was completely different. It was a side scroller with RPG elements such as magic and leveling up. Many people were not a fan, and Shaune and I were no different. We played it because it was Zelda, but only in later years did I come to appreciate it more.

In 1991 Nintendo released the Super Nintendo Entertainment System, packing 16-bits of awesomeness that would melt gamers faces that were used to the 8-bit powered NES. We had no idea what the hell a bit was, but we did know that 16 was twice as much as 8, so it had to be twice as good. The next year we found out just how good it was when "A Link To The Past" came out. It returned to the top-down perspective that made the first one so accessible, and the expanded on every thing. The graphics were top notch, NPCs (non-playable characters) had a greater role, your inventory tripled with all kinds of cool stuff to use, and probably most importantly there was a back-story. Shaune and I played this game like it was our jobs (in between school and little league), and when we beat it we were the bad boys on the block!

Remember the first time seeing the rain? Freaking sweet.

After that the series got a portable game, which I'm playing now, however it did not get another console release until November of 1998. That being my junior year of high school I was too busy driving, working and trying to pass classes that my video game playing took a back seat, and I missed out what many consider to be the greatest game of all time: "Ocarina of Time." However, my brother who was 10 at the time had the game and carried on the Zelda tradition, something we still share today.

Over the years many new Zelda games have come and gone, and I've played and beat most of them. While they're all great games in their own regard, they can't really top those first games for me. They may be dated graphically and the technology held the storytelling ability back, but the gameplay was all you needed. I like to look at those games and remember the sense of wonder that came with them, from the opening of the golden cartridge to stretching my brain trying to figure out the puzzles and where to go. It encouraged gamers to talk and share their secrets, and through that bonded friendships. The series turned 25 years old this year and every new title is just as anticipated as it was in the late 80's and 90's. That's legendary.

Side note: I've been doing this for a month now and have really been enjoying it. Are you? I would love to hear (or read) your feedback!

Hanging by a Moment While the World Held Its Breath

For most Americans, 2001 will always be remembered as what happened on September 11^th. While that’s true for me as well, the fall of 2001 was an incredible time for me that I revisit in my memory time and time again due to an album. Freshman year was fantastic. I was involved in some great organizations and met some really great friends. Headed into sophomore year was gearing up to be quite fantastic. I was the head of the film committee for ACE (Association for Campus Entertainment), was the praise and worship leader for Intervarsity Christian Fellowship (IV), and had an on-campus apartment with my roommate from the year before and two other guys. It was going to be a great year.

The summer before was great, I spent the summer working the early shift at Target. Working in the back room pulling inventory wasn’t exactly what I wanted to come back to, but it was work. My brother and I would stay up late watching Conan, and then playing Playstation/N64 games until the reruns of older Conan episodes came up in the wee hours of the morning. Those were fantastic times. His friend Steven also let us borrow a few of his CDs to listen to and/or copy. One of those just happened to be “No Name Face” by Lifehouse. I listened to that album a few times over that summer (along with Weezer’s Green Album….still my pick as their best), and thought it was pretty decent, particularly "Hanging by a Moment". Eventually I would identify the entire fall semester with that album.

I was able to move in early due to working with ACE, so having an apartment on campus to myself for almost a week before 90% of the rest of the students moved in was awesome. When people moved in and started joining ACE and IV, there was hardly a time that I would walk around campus without seeing someone I knew. It was a good time, although it wasn’t without its hitches. I broke up with my girlfriend most unfairly. She was very timid and at the time I was not. We would never fight, but when we went places, it didn’t seem as if we were together. It’s probably the most jerk thing I’ve ever done, and I probably should have handled it better. I remember listening to a song from the album called “Simon,” where he talks about self-worth and how you should hold your head high. I didn’t feel like holding my head high, but I knew I had to. A few weeks later I met a girl whom two years from then I would end up dating for just around 4 years…but that’s another story. Like I said, it was a crazy time as well!

Classes began in full swing and I met some really great guys in my computer science classes. I met Mike, who I found out was from Wilson, which is 15 minutes away from Rocky Mount, so we became friends pretty quickly, and remain friends to this day…and every time I talk to him he still asks me when I’m moving back. We had our new student outreach for IV and I met Allen. We both shared a love for music and while I was able to play guitar, Allen could only write lyrics and hum what he wanted the melody to be. We sat down one evening in his suite room and I threw some chords together to a song of his called “Wheel of the Potter.” I had no real clue what I wanted it to sound like, and neither did he, but I took one of the Lifehouse songs called “Somewhere In Between” and rearranged the chords and put his words to it. With the “Lifehouse Remix Song” put down we reached out to our bass player for IV; a younger guy named Ian who was completely on board. We got together at Ian’s house (he was a Wilmington native and lived at home) in his garage, and our band “Better Luck Next Time” was born. We wrote a few other songs that fall, and Allen and I still play them today when we get the chance.

One Tuesday morning Sarah (my girlfriend at the time) called me at 8 in the morning, which was strange since my Tuesday classes were not until after lunch. She told me that a plane had hit the World Trade Center and that they were covering it on the news. I thought that was odd, and since I was already awake I might as well get up and check it out. I got out of the shower and got dressed just in time to see the second plane hit the WTC. It was unbelievable to say the least. I woke my roommate Dan up and we sat and watched in horror as the events unfolded. I left to go get something to eat and walking to the Hawk’s Nest all I saw were people on phones and crying. The university union had closed circuit TVs all over the place broadcasting campus news. On that day they were all on CNN and every TV had no fewer than two dozen students crowded around them. It seemed as if the whole world had stopped. We were confused, sad, angry, and lost. As anyone can tell you, things were never the same after that.

After that, we tried to return to normal. Midnight Madness came and ACE put on a heck of a show. We had American Gladiators style jousting, Surf 107.5 was giving away CDs and swag, we had t-shirts and contests, it was a lot of fun. 

Shortly thereafter, the air became cool. UNCW is a fantastic place in the spring, summer, and fall; but for me I always liked it in the winter. While not overly cold, there was always a chill that kept most people inside. The campus looked even more spread out with fewer people around, and it just seemed more serene. I always found it quite peaceful, and when I go back in the winters, it’s a lot of fun to walk around a semi-deserted campus. I know, I’m weird….I’m okay with it. I have great memories of walking to class in my pea coat (I loved that coat!) and my headphones on, listening to No Name Face. Every time I hear “Breathing” from that album (a song that I still think is one of the most beautiful songs ever written) I can see the leafless trees and people bundled up while headed to and from class.

Right around Christmas I was approached by Shannon from Campus Services about an outdoor Christmas program they were having. They would have music and theater skits, all on the amphitheater in the commons for students and public to attend. She asked if the IV praise band would be interested in performing, and after a brief discussion we agreed. I learned and coordinated up to play “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” as done by the Barenaked Ladies and Sarah McLaughlin, and it was met with an incredible reception.

I’ve always been able to make a connection to music in my memory. Whenever I hear a song it sticks with me and I associate it with a time. I guess that’s why whenever I listen to songs from “No Name Face,” I’m sent back to that year…and sent back to the feelings and emotions I had around that time. I remember sitting on my bed with books strewn out in front of me, with the blinds open so I could see where the apartment next to me had their Christmas lights on the patio glowing brightly against the darkness. All the while I had the album playing softly in the background while I studied. My wall was covered in the fliers advertising the movies that we showed on campus, my new pea coat hanging on the back of the door, lightly brushing up against my guitar that was always within an arm’s reach. The soft glow of the computer monitor while it played “Cling and Clatter” and “Quasimodo” before settling into the quiet ballad “Everything” illuminated the room with that extra little bit of light and lift that I needed to press on through the nights of studying.

With all the craziness of college; trying to find my place and make my mark, figuring out relationships, and understanding who I was and who I wanted to be, music was a common theme for me. Many times it felt like the song “Sick Cycle Carousel” where he says: “when will this end, it goes on and on. Over and over and over again. Keep spinning around, I know that it won’t stop until I step down from this for good.”

Whenever that album comes over my iPod I can close my eyes and remember what it was like at the time, and every time I do I want to go back there...more than anything.  

Fear and Loathing of Yourself

So my original Tuesday/Thursday planned update schedule took a bit of a nose dive. I wanted to hold off on posting until after the baseball trip with my dad and some friends, and then stuff went awry. A quick heads up, this post will be quite candid; so if you don't want to read about medical stuff, stop now and check in later.

Google is evil. I'll get to that in a minute. For those that don't know me, I am 29 years old and have been losing my hair for the past few years. Being quite single I see this as a big drawback for my social/dating life (nevermind the ridiculous shyness or being slightly overweight, but that's for another post). Having tried Rogaine and finding moderate success, I went to a dermatologist after Propecia - a drug that has been proven to help men regrow hair. I began taking it (or a generic version of it called Finasteride, which is the name of the drug) about a year and a few months ago. To others my hair seemed to be thicker and fuller, though I never noticed. I guess it's because I see it every day and didn't really notice it.

Well one thing I should have done prior to taking this is to fully research the side effects. Two weeks ago I noticed that I was having some pain that is male oriented. Any guy that has been hit with a ball or bumped into a corner with their lower mid-section can relate. I attributed it to an odd moment at work when I tried to sit in my chair and it rolled out from under me and I sat down awkwardly. I didn't think much about it until the pain stayed around for a few days. I remember reading that Finasteride can cause some side effects in that general area and decided to stop taking it for a while. Then I went online....

If you're ever sick or have an odd ailment, stay off of Google. After two days of research I was convinced that I had everything under the sun, 99% of which was not even possible. Everything I read spun me deeper and deeper into a pit of anxiety and fear. On top of that, Finasteride has many side effects that don't take effect until you stop taking the medication. So as new side effects appeared I looked up those symptoms and was convinced that I had anything from simple side effects to diseases or infections that require you to get them from other people or dirty needles. (Again, not possible, and for those of you keeping score at home, that's about the 35th stupid thing I've said in this post already....but that's how my brain works. I'm a worst-case-scenario person) It was affecting my sleep, my eating, and my social habits. I finally decided to call my doctor Wednesday of last week and ask if this was normal. Since I had stopped taking the medication and the pain was subsiding, they said that's what it was and I had no reason to worry. Well telling me not to worry about something is about as useful as trying to move a concrete building by standing in front of it and breathing on it.

No matter how much I talked myself down, my worst-case-scenario brain kept convincing myself that something was really wrong. I reverted to my eight year old self and decided that I needed to go home thinking that getting out of town would do me some good, but mostly because I was scared. My family is outstanding and they were more supportive than anyone could ever ask for. After a nice relaxing weekend (it had to be, fatigue is a big side effect), I came back and called my doctor on Monday. They agreed to see me and after an agonizing hour waiting for him to show up, it was time. After having a discussion with my doctor that I will not share here (HIPPA laws and all....haha), he confirmed what I should have believed a long time ago. I'm fine. Everything that's happening is normal, and I have nothing to worry about. In a few weeks I should be back to normal. Hopefully by then I'll be able to put all of this insanity behind me, and have it fade into a distant, laughable memory.

While I'm still recovering from getting off of the medication, I'm sloooowly starting to get better. I still have waves of anxiety, but I'm getting better. To my friends who have been with me while going through this; thank you. I can't handle all the crazy myself and I appreciate you helping me manage it. To those who are reading this that don't know me at all, or all that well; I'm normally not like this. Generally I'm a much happier person who doesn't go off the deep end like this. But because it was a medical issue, I hope you can understand.

Moral of the story: if God wants me to be bald, then so be it. Also, Google can be second worst enemy, right behind your own mind.

A Midsummer Night's Classic

I love baseball.

If you don't, stay with me for a little bit. Yes, this post is all about baseball, but I hope it won't be too boring for you if you're not a fan.

Tonight is the Major League Baseball All-Star Game, and every year it reminds me of why I love baseball. There are 162 regular season games, and any one of them can be great, just as any one of them can be boring or a dud. The All-Star Game is a one-shot where they players have a good time and show why they're the best of the best that year. While the playoffs and World Series may be more intense and have better quality games, there's just something that makes the All-Star Game enjoyable to watch. Maybe it's because I don't really care who wins all that much, or maybe it's because I know there is still a lot of baseball left to be played. Whatever it is, I really like it.

Many people don't like baseball, and wonder how you can enjoy a game that, in comparison to basketball, soccer, hockey, football, etc., is significantly slower. I like to think of it this way...

In basketball, there are 4 other people moving at the same time. Setting picks and positioning themselves to get open to either take the shot or pass it to you so you can take it. Similar with hockey and soccer. In football the quarterback relies on the blockers and receivers to make their plays so they can get the first down or a touchdown. However in baseball, it's the pitcher versus the batter. One on one. Yes, there are 8 other fielders and potentially men on base. But for that brief moment before every pitch, it's just the pitcher staring down the batter; and the batter waiting patiently for the next offering. Maybe that's why kids like baseball. Kids are inherently selfish, and a sport that offers them the opportunity to be the one star has to be appealing.

Living in North Carolina all my life, we've never had a professional baseball team. Growing up in the 90's it was fashionable to be a Braves fan, but I never really latched on to them. My affiliation for a team always went with little league. The City of Rocky Mount named their teams after pro teams, and when I played for those teams I always imagined myself playing in the big leagues, with people watching my every move. I was a Pirates fan, a Reds fan, and an Athletics fan...never really knowing anything about the teams that carried the same name as my little league teams. I played for three years under a team named after the Expos, and I became a huge fan. I had hats and t-shirts, and always played as them on my baseball video games. The problem there is that they were based out of Montreal, so going to see them play was never going to happen (even when I was in Montreal for a while, sadly the team had moved to DC). I decided that I needed to find another team to pull for.

One Saturday I was over at a friend's house and when we came in from playing outside the TV happened to be on CBS Saturday Baseball (yeah, a long time ago), and the Twins were hosting the Orioles. I kept hearing these guys talk about this one player and some kind of record streak he was chasing. That was Cal Ripken, Jr. I went through my baseball cards (of which I had a ton..) and learned more about him. I watched him play and liked how he handled himself. He wasn't flashy or cocky. He just went out there and played the game. I started to follow the Orioles and have been a fan ever since.

They say that baseball is America's national past time. I believe that to be true, but I think it extends beyond that. Baseball builds relationships, mostly between fathers and sons. Look at last night's Home Run Derby. Robinson Cano asked his father to pitch to him in the contest. Before the last and winning home run, his father looked at him and said "uno mas," to which Robisnon replied "uno mas. I love you dad." After it was over they embraced on the mound, with his father grinning from ear to ear.

I have great memories of playing catch with my dad in the back yard at home, or in the field at my grandmother's house. I remember going out to the fields on Saturdays so he could help me finally judge and catch pop flys. It's just something that is taught from generation to generation. This weekend some friends of mine and I are taking a trip up to Baltimore to watch two games against the Indians, and dad is going with us. I'm beyond excited about it.

Times change. Things change. People change. Places come and places go. Friends are made and friends are lost. Baseball doesn't change. No matter how old you get, as long as the game is around it's something you can talk about.

I think this is best summed up by a quote from the movie "City Slickers." A group of guys are debating about players, when the only woman in the group scoffs about it. They ask her if she doesn't like baseball, and she says that she just can't understand how guys can sit around and talk stats or ask who played what position in what year. They ask her what her friends talk about, and she says they talk about "real life;" relationships and so forth. Daniel Stern's character reflects for a moment and then says this:

"You're right, I suppose. I mean I guess it is childish. But when I was about eighteen, and my dad and I couldn't communicate about anything at all, we could still talk about baseball. That was real."

Now I can only partially relate to this as my dad and I have a great relationship, but we do always talk about baseball. It's timeless.

Before I go and stop boring you with my baseball ramblings, I have to give a shout out to my friend Rachel; an aspiring writer with a blog of her own that is a heck of a lot better written than mine, who gave my blog a plug on her, and who also wrecked face at our last poker night. Visit her blog: I Picked Up A Pen One Day...

Thanks, have a great night, and go out to the ballpark sometime. You might actually enjoy it.

The Physics of Quantum Fiction

One of my favorite topics to discuss/debate/wonder about is time travel. Most people know this due to my extreme fandom of the "Back to the Future" movies. I saw the first one when I was a kid and even though the opening scene with the amplifier scared me, I still loved the movie. The concept of time travel is about the most "sci-fi" that I really like. What makes it so interesting to me is that for a concept that's unproven and most likely not possible, there are so many theories and rules attached to it. Paradoxes are perhaps the biggest argument for why time travel cannot exist. The most popular example is the so-called 'Grandfather Paradox.' Let's say you traveled back in time and murdered your grandfather (morbid, I know). Well then he would have never married your grandmother, your mother or father would have never been born, you would not have been born, and thus never traveled back in time to kill your grandfather. So how can you exist to kill your grandfather if he's dead?

While I'm sure there's no perfect answer to this, it's a basic example of why people believe that time travel cannot exist. I like to think that if I ever were to travel back in time, I would need two reasons to. One of them would have to go unresolved, thus still giving me the desire to travel back in time and not creating a paradox. But that's enough of that, I'm far from a physicist and am only a fan of what might happen. It's just fun to think about to me.

Speaking of time travel, let's go back to the mid-90's, around 95/96/97 (not exactly sure which year). Summer time rolls around, and for school kids everywhere bedtimes and schedules are pretty much non-existant. For me, that meant a lot of late nights up with my brother playing games on the Sega Channel (if you don't know what that is, google it....it was way ahead of its time), or watching TV reruns with mom. USA always had a pretty decent late night lineup, and one of the shows that we watched was 'Quantum Leap.' It ran on NBC from '89-'93, and wasn't really liked by the network (see also: 'Scrubs') but loved by the fans. Basic premise is this...Dr. Sam Beckett (Scott Bakula) theorized that one could time travel within their own lifetime. He developed a project called Quantum Leap and prematurely stepped into the accelerator and vanished. (What's sad is that the name and that part of the premise tends to turn people off from the show, as it seems very heavily sci-fi.) Dr. Beckett wakes in a body that isn't his own, in a time that isn't his own. His purpose is to change the past, "putting right what once went wrong" before he can leap out to the next person. He has a guide from his own time, Al (Dean Stockwell), that only Sam can see and hear. The show did a great job of mixing drama, comedy, heart, and history.

Sam leaps into some situations that make us take a harsh look back on where we've been as a society and how far we still have to go. (When Sam leaps in he doesn't know who he is, where he is, or what he's doing. So when he leaps into an African American in 1950's Alabama and sits down at a lunch counter, this obviously causes a problem.) As a time travel fan and a fan of good story telling, this show doesn't really get any better. It's on Netflix instant viewing (mostly...some episodes are left off due to music rights or whatever reason), and I highly recommend watching a few episodes.

It's funny how some things stick with you and just the thought of them makes you sort of time travel in your mind. I watched an episode this evening, and when I was done I half expected to be sitting on the floor of our den, waiting for the next episode to come on, or going upstairs to join Josh in a game of Earthworm Jim or Monopoly or whatever was new on the Sega Channel, or have him explain the Pokemon card game to me yet again.

The saddest realization is when I actually do "leap back" and realize that those days are over, and that the feeling is just a fleeting memory, gone by much too fast, just like that time as well...

"...so do we pass the ghosts that haunt us later in our lives; they sit undramatically by the roadside like poor beggars, and we see them only from the corners of our eyes, if we see them at all. The idea that they have been waiting there for us rarely if ever crosses our minds. Yet they do wait, and when we have passed, they gather up their bundles of memory and fall in behind, treading in our footsteps and catching up, little by little." - Stephen King

That's all I have for now. So why haven't I leaped yet, Ziggy?

So I started a blog. Here's why...

Hello world!

I have decided that having an active Facebook profile and being involved with a group of friends just isn't enough to satisfy my vanity, so I started a blog. Actually, there are a few reasons that I wanted to start a blog. The main reason is that I really like putting random thoughts on a page, and constantly updating my Facebook status just doesn't seem to fit, and I really only use Twitter to follow people and retweet random crap, so this seems like a pretty good medium to use.

Give it another listen...

Another reason I wanted to start a blog came from an idea from a website that I don't think I could pull off or run efficiently. A while back (a few months or so ago) I was going through my iPod and finding some albums that I hadn't listened to in a while (I listen to a lot of music while at work, so old stuff seemed to be a good idea). I came across the album "Mad Season" by matchbox twenty. When it first came out in 2000, a friend of mine told me it wasn't all that good, and outside of the singles I wasn't really impressed with the album. However when I listened to it again, I found that my opinion of it had changed over the years and I really enjoyed it. That led me to think about other forms of media that could have aged better over time. I thought about gathering these 10+ year old items and "re-reviewing" them for today to see if they hold up, get better, or fizzle out. Problem is that to run a site like that takes several contributors, web space and hosting and a ton of time to put into it, and while I may revisit this someday (maybe in 10 years, ha), but for now I think I'll use the blog as my retro review site. Also, I like the phrase "mad season" because it always seems like the time you're in now is the most crazy....so you're always in a mad season.

Outside of that, I may ramble on about this or that...post some interesting song lyrics or a quote from a TV show, movie or book that I find interesting. It should always be different and have the reader guessing. I hope I can pull that off.

So let's recap. What will you find here? Random thoughts, quotes, old movie/game reviews, and hopefully something that will make you smile. And since I said I like to quote stuff, here's one from one of my favorite shows, "Scrubs:"

"...we all want to believe that what we do is very important, that people hang onto our every word, that they care what we think. The truth is you should consider yourself lucky if you even occasionally get to make someone, anyone, feel a little better. After that it's all about the people that you let into your life."

I don't think I could have said it any better.