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Number 1 [Most Memorable NES Games]

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 04:00:00 +0000

1. Final Fantasy

I finally made it. I have loved writing all of these Nintendo stories. It's been therapeutic. But, I've got to say, I'm glad it's over. Maybe there's a good reason for Top 10 lists and not Top 12 + 5 Honorable Mentions. No matter. Here we are at my number one, all time most memorable NES game- Final Fantasy.

This game holds such a special place in my heart that only Batman, The Siimpsons, or Star Wars come close to it. Except for, you know, real people. I love Jesus and people first and foremost. I was just talking about fiction and abstractions. Promise.

I don't want to cheapen this game by over analyzing it or getting into obscure amounts of detail. Let's just say this was what kindled the RPG spark into a blazing flame that still warms me to this day. This game took my imagination to places where my favorite books and movies had not treaded. It was even more epic and grandiose than The Legend of Zelda. The characters, setting, and plot were almost more than my eleven-year-old brain could stand. The one word that keeps popping into my head is captivating.

So many hours of my life have been spent enjoying this game, but I've only officailly completed it once. It is a Great Wall of China kind of game. It takes about 40 -50 hours of game play to get through. I tried to play through it again last Christmas break. Unfortunately, I only got about mid-way before school started up again. Maybe it's for the best.

The All-Nighter

I have so many memories of Final Fantasy that it's hard to know where to begin. Back in the prime of my Nintendo years I woke up early to play it, stayed up late to play it, watched others play it, played it while eating lunch, played it while eating supper, played it instead of eating supper, talked about it, read about it, made phone calls about it, and even fought over it.

The time I remember most was at my friend Adam's house. He would have these insane, all-nighter sleepovers on Friday nights. We'd play outside riding our bikes and shooting model rockets until the sun went down. His mom would always have a good supper for us. Adam's older brother and sister were already moved out, so it was just him, his mom and dad, and me. It was great. I loved not having little kids around.

We'd creak down the stairs to the basement after we ate. The basement was Adam's man cave before there was such a term. Shelves were jammed with model cars and airplanes. There was a dilapidated couch against the wall. The far corner had nothing but a mini trampoline. Of course the mighty Nintendo and TV were center stage.

Adam had rented Final Fantasy for almost two weeks straight. Rentals back then were three dollars for three days, or something like that. So he had racked up at least a $20 charge. I remember his mom telling him that it was going back tomorrow no matter what. Good thing he was close to the end of the game. We knew our mission that night- achieve Nintendo conquest or hang our heads in shame at the video return counter at Gibson's Discount Store.

We embraced the all-night madness with open arms. Adam played, and I took notes and navigated the maps and magazines. I even remember we had to call the Nintendo Power hotline. We got to talk to a Nintendo "game counselor" to help us get past a tough spot in the game. I couldn't believe his mom let us call. It definitely wasn't toll-free. I don't think calling the President of the United States could have been any cooler.

Our late night hunger got the better of us in the wee hours of the morning. I remember creeping upstairs to make one of our patented concoctions, as we called them. Part of the all-nighter deal was that we couldn't wake Adam's parents. Not a problem if we just stayed in the basement. Yeah, like that was going to happen.

The stairs were so creaky that we only dared to mount them one man at a time. One man, one step, easy does it. Easy does it. There were two terribly creaky steps right next to each other. That double-headed beast had to be skipped entirely. Step on those the wrong way and the whole house sounded like it was going into labor. Compound all of this with an incurable case of the giggles, and you've got the beginnings of a bad situation.

We managed to mount the stairs with trapeze-like dexterity that night. The dull roar of laughter simply got a "Quiet down" from the bedroom of Adam's parents.

Our "concoctions" were usually some type of dip for bread or chips. We dug all sorts of things out of his fridge. There were loads of unholy ingredients that should never be mixed together- Worcestershire sauce, soy sauce, mayonnaise, lemon juice, jelly, jalapenos, and the secret ingredient was always pickle juice. We'd mix all of that sinful mess into a Frito Lays can of bean dip. This got chased down with copious amounts of potato chips and Pepsi. So much Pepsi. It's no wonder we stayed up all night. I still blame any indigestion problems I have on nights like that.

We finally destroyed the evil villain, Chaos, and restored the time paradox to complete Final Fantasy. It's amazing what the friendship of two boys and the the love of a game can accomplish. It was just around the crack of dawn as I recall. How fitting. A new day; a new victory. And few Nintendo victories ever tasted as sweet.

The Now

I haven't talked to Adam in almost a decade. I wonder if he still remembers that night? I wonder if he has a Most Memorable NES Games List? I wonder if video games mean as much to him as they do to me? Video games will always be inextricably linked to that time in my life. Not for what they were, but for what they created.

I can't help but wonder if my own kids will have things like this. Those silly, inconsequential things that turn out to be more than the sum of their parts. Those are the things that are much more than things. Those are the things that end up being about the people and relationships that change our lives, however young those lives may be. I can't help but wonder...

[Box art courtesy of GameFAQs]

Number 2 [Most Memorable NES Games]

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 04:24:00 +0000

2. The Legend of Zelda

This list was fun, but incredibly hard to make. The top five was especially challenging. The top two? Yikes.

Where do I even start with this one? This was the first game I wanted. I mean really wanted. I wrote in an earlier post that my Nintendo life came in two phases- the second phase in high school, and the first phase when I was nine to twelve-years-old. I could even divide that up into smaller pieces. This game was at the front end of my Nintendo days.

I wanted The Legend of Zelda before I even had a Nintendo. It was the game that sank its teeth into me more than Mario. The first time I laid my young eyes on this beauty was a magical moment. It was epic. It was mesmerizing. It was The Legend of Zelda! Cue the medieval blasting trumpets...

The Prequel to Gaming

My first adventure with this game happened when I was eight. My mom and dad's friends, Don and Margaret, were having a party. The whole family was invited. They lived in a country neighborhood on a country road a few miles out of town. Their home was on a long gravel street with several other tract houses. It was the kind of neighborhood where all the kids knew each other and ran around outside all day in their bare feet.

Don and Margaret would have get-togethers sometimes with lots of families. All the grown-ups would sit around cussing, listening to music, and drinking beer. The kids would go buck wild and run all over the neighborhood without the shackles of adult supervision.

All of us kids would have to check in with them every once in a while. As the evening got later, we could talk our dads into giving us a sip of beer. It was very important to make sure no one saw you gag. Then you could go back and tell all the other kids how great it was.

We went indoors once it got too dark to play outside. Don and Margaret had a son named Roger. We would go hang out in his room while the adults took the music, brew, and bad words into the living room. Roger was pretty much one of the coolest guys I knew when I was eight. He was just a year older than me, but seemed on the verge of growing a bad teenage mustache. The walls of his room were littered with Guns 'N Roses posters and a rack for his pellet gun.

Of course he also had a Nintendo. I watched him play The Legend of Zelda for hours one night. It was about the most incredible thing I'd seen in my eight years on earth. I was entranced. I remember bugging Roger, and Roger was not the kind of guy you'd bug, about the story, characters, and different locations in the game. I about had to find a change of underwear when he actually let me play it for a few minutes. I'm convinced my experience with this game on that night is what got me into video games.

Joby and I begged my mom and dad for a Nintendo that Christmas. Our hopes and dreams rose like steam from a smoke stack. But, alas, it was not meant to be. Instead we got an Atari 7800. My dad said it was "just as good." Unfortunately my dad did not understand that The Legend of Zelda couldn't be played on an Atari. Parents...

We finally did get our Nintendo- a whole Christmas later. Joby and I tore down the stairs like mad men, because we just knew. My mom had taken it out of the box and set it up like a store display. She didn't know how to hook it up to the TV, or I'm sure she would have. It was like Ralphie finding his BB gun behind the desk.

I didn't get Zelda for a few more years, but it stayed heavy in the renting rotation. I've gone through this game many times and loved every minute of it. It's an incredibly memorable game for me that is a lot like having your first kiss. Better things may come along, but you'll never forget it.

Come back tomorrow for my last game. And be sure to check out all the posts in my Most Memorable NES Games list.

[Box art courtesy of GameFAQs]

Number 3 [Most Memorable NES Games]

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 05:31:00 +0000

3. River City Ransom

Oh man, oh man, oh man! I can still hear every note of the title music of this game. We're getting higher up on the list, and it's getting harder for me to articulate just what these games mean to me. They're more feeling and emotion; less words and thought. I know it sounds a bit cheesy, but like I wrote about in my very first post, these games are fibers in the very tapestry of my youth.

So, River City Ransom. This was yet another two player game that my brother, Joby, and I about wore out. We didn't discover this game until well past the shelf life of our NES. The system itself was getting long in the tooth. We had moved on to the Super Nintendo (SNES). But this game was so good, we couldn't stay away. I found it in the used section of a video store for $10. To this day, I still think it is one of the best ten dollar bills I've ever spent.

The game's heroes are two high school kids. It had the standard story: Your girl has been kidnapped by a local hooligan, and you have to fight to get her back. This game set itself apart by going the extra mile in the narrative. There was hilarious dialogue between the characters and villains throughout each stage. It would scroll across the bottom of the screen like a comedic stock ticker. You'd beat on high school thugs until they yelled "BARF!" Good stuff.

Grandma's House

My best memories of this game were at my grandma's house. My whole family went to stay with her the summer after we moved to Texas. Of course we brought our video games. Does a carpenter work without his toolbox, or a catcher without his mask and pads? I would've soon forgotten all my extra underwear than left without my video games. Somehow Joby and I talked my mom into letting us bring both our Nintendo and Super Nintendo, plus a healthy stash of games and a dozen gaming magazines. God bless that woman. I don't know if I want to high-five thirteen-year-old me, or biff him in the back of the head.

There was a sun room area by my grandma's back door. It had that added-on feel. The washer and dryer were there, and it was big enough for a tasteful hide-a-bed couch. This is where Joby and I slept many a night. But most importantly there was a TV.

It was a small, aging 13 inch number. That tiny little box was an oasis in the desert of the week at Grandma's. Don't get me wrong, Joby and I were Nintendo junkies, but there really wasn't anything else to do. Seriously. I guess there was the city pool. We went there a few times. But the pool didn't have video games. You can see the bind we were in.

Joby and I kind of re-bonded over this game. We had begun a time in which we drifted in and out of favor with each like the ocean tides. Joby was going in to the wimpy and unsophisticated fifth grade, but I was about to start the manly and mature eighth grade. His voice sounded like a female cartoon squirrel, but mine was doing the squeaky-voiced teen from The Simpsons. He had no hair under his arms, but I... well... I think I almost did.

River City Ransom was a complete riot to play with with him. We played late into the evenings, well past my mom and grandma's bed time. We'd laugh so hard one of them got up almost every night to tell us to quiet down or go to bed. He and I were a great team back them. I'm glad this game helped me remember that, even if his voice hadn't changed yet.

Come back tomorrow for my next game. And be sure to check out all the posts in my Most Memorable NES Games list.

[Box art courtesy of GameFAQs]

Number 4 [Most Memorable NES Games]

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 17:36:00 +0000

4. Crystalis

It's pronounced chris • tall • iss. I didn't realize that until I saw an online review of it a few years ago. I went most of my life calling it crystal • us. You live, you learn.

The post-apocalyptic story line intrigued me as a kid. The characters, and plot kept me playing and playing. The Zelda-esque action-adventure game mechanics with the RPG leveling system were digital candy to my twelve-year-old brain. I played the crud out of it with my buddy, Adam. He was a gaming machine. Sleep overs at his house were almost always epic all-nighters. I'm sure this game was center stage for many of those.

But this game gets such a high rating from me because it connected two major parts of my life. Let me explain.

The Bridge

It was late in the summer of 1992. The days were still long and the sun was still hot. My mom, my brother and sister, and I boxed up all the things from our small Kansas apartment in a U-Haul truck and headed out for the great state of Texas.

I was lost and terrified. I was twelve and getting more awkward by the minute. I knew next to nothing about girls thanks to the four student 6th grade class at Sacred Heart Catholic School. They just combined me and the other three boys in with the 5th grade class. I've often thought about how much that stunted my social growth. But, that's another post.

I had just spent one of the best summers of my life (you can read about it here) with the dark cloud of moving constantly looming overhead. I'd grown so close to my pals, Adam and Laramie. I didn't know how I was ever going to leave them. In The Body, Stephen King wrote, "I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve... does anybody?" No, Mr. King. I never did have friends like that again.

I still remember saying goodbye to Laramie. We were at the foot of a hill about a block away from our apartments. The sun hung low in the late afternoon sky. We had gone to Butterfield's convenience store like we had done a hundred times before. I didn't want to say it out loud, but I knew deep down that it was going to be the last trip I'd ever take there with him.

We made it down the big hill to the sidewalk at the bottom. He needed to head right, and I needed to go left. But neither of us moved for a bit. We both just kind of stared at our shoes in an awkward silence that neither of us were used to. A lump began to creep up my throat like the mercury in an old thermometer. Finally, the tears running down my cheeks betrayed me. I couldn't look at his face. I just reached over and gave him a hug. A real hug. That's a big deal when you're twelve.

I blubbered out that I would write for sure, and call if my mom would let me. That's when I realized that he was crying too. I was wearing my favorite hat- a black baseball cap with with a neon pink outline of the state of Kansas. I'm terrible with goodbyes. I didn't know what else to do, so I took it off of my head and gave it to him. How fitting. I wouldn't realize the symbolism of giving him that Kansas hat until much later in life.

We said our goodbyes. He headed right, and I went left. After a few steps, we both stopped, turned, and waved one more time. Then he walked back to his apartment in Kansas, and I walked back to the truck that would take me to Texas.

Well, Crystalis was a piece of that for me. It was a bridge back home. I played this game but never beat it before we moved. Once we got settled in to our new house in Texas, I kept playing it. The first few weeks in Texas were hard ones. The inherent awkwardness of 7th grade and the unfamiliarity of a new school only made it worse. Living a ten minute walk from the library helped some. But more than anything, this game was a rock for me. I instantly felt back in Kansas every time I would play it.

After many sweltering Texas weekends, I finally beat it too. Laramie wasn't the first person I called to tell about it either. It was my new buddy from Texas, Craig.

Come back tomorrow for my next game. And be sure to check out all the posts in my Most Memorable NES Games list.

[Box art courtesy of GameFAQs]

Number 5 [Most Memorable NES Games]

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 05:56:00 +0000

5. Super Mario Bros. 3

I love my brother. I mean that in the most bro hug kind of way. There are precious few memories of when I was younger without him. He is almost three years younger than me. Every time I think back to some childhood moment, he was there. I didn’t mind for the most part.

I’m sure there were times when I couldn’t have disliked another human being more than him. There were times when I wanted to pound that smirk right off of his face. And I know there were times when I absolutely did not want to ever speak to him again. But even through our worst teeth-gritting arguments, I always knew, and still know, that I love my brother.

The Anticipation

Joby and I were freaking out when we saw how amazing Super Mario Bros. 3 looked on a TV commercial. Both of us knew right then that we were going to have to get it.

Somehow we talked our wonderful mother in to putting this game on layaway for us at the local Walmart. It was a tag team effort. I steered the logical side of the argument with facts, figures, and payment schedules. Joby went for the impassioned, repetitive, emotional delivery (read: crying). I love my brother.

The plan was to pay down $7 per week for seven weeks. That came out to 50¢ per day from each of us. Surely, intelligent and hard working ten and seven-year-old boys could come up with 50¢ per day. Surely...

Yeah, I’m going to say probably not. I’m not exactly sure how much money my mom coughed up to get us this game. I’m guessing it was ~~some~~ most of it. That’s just the kind of mom I have.

The Acquisition

The game was even better than we thought. I can look back and say that it’s one of the few NES games that lived up to the hype. The Stortz brothers had it, and life was awesome.

It was a two player game, so of course we’d play for hours on end. I was okay at it. But, Joby. Joby was so good at it. Like hand the controller over and say “Hey Joby, can you get me past this part” good at it. I love my brother. My favorite memories of this game aren’t me playing it. They are watching him play it.

He’d get up early in the morning and play before breakfast. Then he’d fly downstairs, inhale his Malt-O-Meal, and race back to play for a few more minutes before we had to leave for school. The best part was, he’d just leave the game on pause for the whole time we were at school. The game didn’t have a save feature or passwords, so this classic move was the only way to not lose your place. Nothing does a game system good like being paused for 8+ hours a day.

The Action

One night in particular I remember him getting very far in the game. We were playing it in our bedroom upstairs. My mom hollered for us to get ready for bed. We performed the requisite moaning and complaining then slipped on our pajamas. But instead of shutting the game down, Joby just turned off the TV and left the Nintendo on. Nice. I love my brother.

My mom came to tuck us in. Then she went back downstairs to toil away at her college classwork. Joby and I turned the lights off and listened to my mom shuffle around on first floor of our apartment for a bit. Once we couldn’t hear the clanking of dishes and sliding of kitchen chairs, we knew my mom had settled into her school books.

Joby crept out of bed. He tiptoed over to the TV and slowly turned the knob until it clicked on, but didn’t have any volume. I crawled out of my bed and eased the bedroom door closed. I kept an ear out for footsteps on the stairs as I watched him play.

The Adventure

The flickering TV screen cast all kids of wonderful shadows on the walls of the otherwise dark room. It was exciting. He was getting close to the last levels of the game. Then, after about an hour, we both heard it. I’m sure I heard it first since Joby had his attention elsewhere. Thud. The all-to-familiar sound of a wooden stair under heavy foot falls. Eyes wide, we both shot each other a panicked glance. Thud.

Joby instinctively turned off the TV. Thud. I hopped off the bed and lightly opened the door again, so my mom would never guess anything was amiss. Thud. We both dove back under our covers. Deep breath. This was going to be close, but I felt like we made it. All was right, except... Thud. The whole upstairs was completely dark apart from the blazing red power light from the Nintendo that was still turned on. Great. That infernal LED screamed the boys haven’t been in bed, Nintendo privileges have been abused, and Justin and Joby are going to be very cranky in the morning! We knew that light was going to ruin everything.

Thud. I turned to Joby and scream-whispered “The Nintendo light!” Joby shot his arm down on the side of his bed and grabbed something. Thud. In what could only be described as divine guidance, Joby hurled a dirty pair of jeans through the air towards the Nintendo and its red light bull's-eye. I can still see the slow motion arc of those acid washed Lee’s. Thud. The jeans landed just as my mom topped the stairs. Perfect hit. The pant leg completely covered the red light. Ferris Bueller could not have been prouder. I love my brother.

The Aftermath

We pretended to be asleep. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mom poke her head in the open door to check on us. Joby and I laid perfectly still while she got ready for bed. When we were sure she was asleep, we slid out of bed and picked up right where we left off.

Joby went on to beat Super Mario Bros. 3 that night. It was his first time, but I felt like it was our first time. There were silent cheers, air fives, and, I’m sure, a bro hug or two. We finally went to bed that night feeling on top of the world.

This is definitely one of my most memorable NES games. It is an absolute classic that I absolutely loved playing. But behind all the blips and beeps, I really love this game because, deep down, I really love my brother.

And yes, we were very cranky the next morning.

Come back tomorrow for my next game. And be sure to check out all the posts in my Most Memorable NES Games list.

[Box art courtesy of GameFAQs]

Number 6 [Most Memorable NES Games]

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 17:44:00 +0000

6. Super Dodge Ball

Super friggin Dodge Ball. Everything surrounding this game is pure happiness. This is the only sports game on my list, so that says a lot. Although calling this a sports game would be like calling a jackhammer a hand tool.

So, basically, you're trying to kill each other. It's pure, simple, and easy to understand violence. My brother and I loved it. You're trying to annihilate your opponents in professional dodge ball matches to the death. This was another game we'd play until our thumbs were sore. Who needs to go outside when you can play games like this?

I'm sure it wasn't the on-screen violence's fault, but this game led to many a scrape between Joby and me. There's only so many pixelated power shots you can take before you lash out in real life. It was all good on the co-op mode, but when we'd go versus- you'd best just back up!

It would start off slowly. A little push here or there. Then would come the I'm joking, but I'm not really joking, so you better stop doing that punches to the upper arm. Next was full on smacks and kicks. Before you know it, people are getting strangled by controller cords, whacked in the back of the head with Zapper guns, barrel-rolling around on the floor, and lamps may or may not be falling off of night stands. By then our mom had already come in and threatened to take away the Nintendo. That usually got our tails back between our legs. Can't we all just get along?

"One more power shot, sucka!"

Come back tomorrow for my next game. And be sure to check out all the posts in my Most Memorable NES Games list.

[Screenshots courtesy of GameFAQs]

Number 7 [Most Memorable NES Games]

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 05:45:00 +0000

7. Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest

Belmonts, whips, and Dracula? Awww, yeah!

This game came at two distinct periods for me. The first was the the regular, nine-year-old everything sucks unless it’s a Nintendo game phase. I adored this game back then. The gameplay was so different. The creepy atmosphere, haunting music, and RPG elements were just killer. (Sorry, even I can't believe I just went for that pun.)

I’d haul my NES over to my Grandma Charlene’s house and play this on her monstrous console TV while the rest of the cousins yelled at each other for cheating on Go Fish. I remember getting pretty far, but never completing it. My brother and I would always seem to get stuck somewhere. Again, no internet. (See also Metroid.) But it was still great. It was like a horror video game. Which is , like, so wicked cool when you’re nine.

In my sophomore year of high school I entered into my I’m so awesome I still rock my old NES from when I was nine even though I have a Playstation phase. This game came back hard for an entire week. I’m not even sure where I got it. Places weren’t still renting NES games in late 90’s, and I know I didn’t buy it because I’d never sell it, and I know I don’t have it. I know I don’t have it because I just checked. Like, literally, just checked.

Anyway... My second time through Castlevania II was sweeter than the first. I’d turn the volume down, crank Metallica’s Master of Puppets, and play for hours in the evenings after school. Thanks to the NES Game Atlas, I finally put Drac to rest in the fall of ‘96. There is a pant load of hate out there about this game, and I don’t know why. It’ll always be one of the most memorable bridges into my two prominent times of Nintendo fervor.

Come back tomorrow for my next game. And be sure to check out all the posts in my Most Memorable NES Games list.

[Screenshots courtesy of GameFAQs]

Number 8 [Most Memorable NES Games]

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 05:06:00 +0000

8. Dragon Warrior

Although Dragon Warrior came in at number eight on my list, it holds a spot in my heart that no other game can touch. This game began my passionate love affair with RPGs that continues to this day.

RPG stands for role-playing game, for those not in the know. This genre focuses more on characters, story arcs, and an overall narrative, rather than quick reflexes and dexterity. There is usually much more problem solving than button mashing. Often these kinds of games will take weeks, if not months, of gameplay to complete.

The best thing about Dragon Warrior was that it was free. I got this free with my subscription to Nintendo Power. I think that was what sealed the deal for my mom when I begged her for a subscription. $15 for 12 issues of a magazine PLUS a free game. Free. When you're a kid and somebody offers you something for free*, you take it.

I remember trekking the lonely sidewalk between my apartment and our little communal mail box unit. There were so many disappointing strolls back. Day after day I waited for my first issue of Nintendo Power and this game. Then magically one day, there it was. And man did that box art pull me in.

I had never played a game like this. There was so much to read and explore. It also had a real story. I'll be danged if it wasn't a pretty good story, too. At least for ten-year-old Justin. I was all about maxing out your stats and finding every single item- even back then. It came with this incredible fold-out map that I would sneak out of my backpack during silent reading time in my fifth grade classroom.

Months sounds right. I'm not sure how many, but it was at least four or five to finally finish this game. We'd get really into it and play it nonstop for days. Then we'd drift a way for a bit.

I remember a huge sense of accomplishment after destroying the Dragon Lord. This was an epic game that captured my imagination in a way that other games had not. The best part was that this was only a gateway game into even harder RPGs to come.

*Okay, okay. I looked it up. You had to send in an extra $3 to cover shipping for the game. Jeez.

Come back tomorrow for my next game. And be sure to check out all the posts in my Most Memorable NES Games list.

[Screenshots courtesy of GameFAQs]

Number 9 [Most Memorable NES Games]

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 14:39:00 +0000

9. Contra

This game is a little fuzzier. I'm not exactly sure where Contra began for me. It just always was. I can't remember a distinct time frame in my sweaty NES days when I wasn't playing Contra.

My brother and I played this one until we had blisters on our thumbs. And the yelling. So much yelling. We'd play it at friends' houses, we'd play it at our dad's farm, we'd play it on the Play-Choice 10 arcade at Big Cheese Pizza, and, for our house, we'd rent it. Boy, did we rent this game. I'm sure we could have easily paid for it based on our rental frequency. No other good games at Hometown Video? Just get Contra. Again.

I remember arguing about the cover art. Specifically, Joby and I would argue over which guy we were in the game. The characters were named Mad Dog and Scorpion. Scorpion? Yeah, right. We both wanted to be Mad Dog. And on the title screen, one of them had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Of course that had to be Mad Dog. Très cool.

This was one of the first video games I remember beating, courtesy of the legendary Konami Code. The first time we got all the way to the end and destroyed Red Falcon was out at my dad's farm. I remember sitting on his dingy living room carpet, eyes fixed on that console TV, and just pounding the B button. He didn't really seem to care much, but Joby and I were high-fiving like only two kids in the late eighties could.

Come back tomorrow for my next game. And be sure to check out all the posts in my Most Memorable NES Games list.

[Screenshots courtesy of GameFAQs]

Number 10 [Most Memorable NES Games]

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 16:42:00 +0000

My posting streak had to end. I posted four days in a row. In over three years of blogging, I've never gotten close to that. Life... Anyway, here's the next installment:
10. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Arcade Game

December 25, 1990. South Park Apartments, Colby, Kansas. My trembling 10-year-old fingers gripped what I knew to be a Nintendo game hiding under that festive wrapping paper. But which one? I was still shocked we were even getting games this year.

My brother had already opened his- Little Nemo: The Dream Master. Hmm. We had never heard of that one. That delightful game would go on to be one of my brother's all-time favorites, although nobody ever seems to have heard of it.

I remembered being burned a year earlier with Back to the Future. Shudder. With closed eyes, I tore into that gift with all the grace and precision of an ice skating elephant. This game was the beauty I held in my chubby hands.

My friend, Laramie, would have sleep-overs at his apartment with my brother and me. His mom, Cleo, was a saint. She would let us stay up so late, being rowdy, and allow us to cook all concoctions of ramen noodles in her kitchen as we played this. The discovery of a secret code for 10 lives let us eventually defeat Krang and Shredder. It took us months, but victory rarely tasted sweeter.

I don't really remember wanting this game. I was kind of over my Ninja Turtle infatuation. That was so 1989. But man, was I glad I got this! What an excellent game.

I still have my copy from that Christmas. Complete with my red JUSTIN sticker on it. Every time I see it, I can't help but remember those crazy sleep overs and the simple joy that playing a game with friends could bring.

Come back tomorrow for my next game. And be sure to check out all the posts in my Most Memorable NES Games list.

[Screenshots courtesy of GameFAQs]

Number 11 [Most Memorable NES Games]

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 04:09:00 +0000

11. Battletoads

Battletoads! Yeah, Battletoads! Everybody remembers the Battletoads, right? You know, they were the reptilian ninja mutants in their teenage years named for famous Renaissance painters. There was Leonardo, and Michelangelo, and... Oh wait. I'm thinking of something else. The Battletoads were- well I'm not sure what they were. But it was pretty clear what they were trying to be.

This was THE game to have in the summer of 1991. My brother and I saved up for so long to get this one too. Scrounging panhandlers would've been an apt description for us as the school year drew to a close that sultry May.

My wonderful mom finally had pity on us and helped us buy it. She was always so supportive of my hobbies. Two years later she fueled my comic book phase by passing me a few bucks every week for the latest copy of Detective Comics or The Uncanny X-Men. Four years after that she helped me buy my first guitar. I'll always be grateful. A supportive mom is a special blessing in life.

It felt amazing to be one of the lucky few who actually owned this game. Kids at school were jealous. I kind of liked it. Okay, I really liked it. It was one of the only times in my younger years I ever felt popular.

This was a top-notch game by NES standards. It's just insanely difficult. This game was responsible for much controller biting. I even blame it for my premature hair loss. I enjoyed it, but simply got sick of playing the first two levels for, well, forever basically. I still can't get past level three.

What was with the crazy difficulty of games back then? Why did they have to make things so hard? What is it with me and level three on Nintendo games? I need to watch some Ninja Turtles and go calm down a bit.

Come back tomorrow for my next game. And be sure to check out all the posts in my Most Memorable NES Games list.

[Screenshots courtesy of GameFAQs]

Number 12 [Most Memorable NES Games]

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Sun, 27 Nov 2011 04:26:00 +0000

So I decided to do a Top 12 list. I just couldn't do ten. I tried. I really tried. Even with the honorable mentions. But this is my blog, so I'll do as I please. Besides, Top 10 lists are boring. Top 12 lists are where it's at.

12. Batman

In case you forgot it was a video game, it even reminds you on the box. Batman- The Video Game. YEEEAAH!!

My brother and I actually created a savings account for this game. We got an old, beat-up cracker tin and wrapped a sheet of paper from a spiral notebook around it. We made sure the the frayed edges were down at the bottom and the Scotch tape was in the back. We needed it to look classy. I scrawled Justin and Joby's Video Game Fund on the front. Joby drew the Bat-Symbol in the center. It was hideous, but it represented a dream.

Anytime time we got spare change, it would go straight into the fund. Every couple of days we would count it up and write the new running total on the back. This was back when a new NES cart would run you $49.99. Good night that's a lot when you're nine and seven-years-old. Jeez, that's a lot when you're 31...

After what felt like six months, I think we got up to around $27 or so. Needless to say, I didn't actually own this game until late in my teen years.

I first saw this game in action at my buddy, Mike Willis', house. I've been a Batman fan since I was a little kid, and this game pushed my nine-year-old brain over the edge. It was amazing. The graphics and sound were beyond anything I can remember seeing up until that point. I still jam to this soundtrack when I'm working on certain things.

The punishing difficulty level kept me from ever getting too far as a kid. Our old neighbor, Damon, could beat the Joker. He was a gaming legend around my old apartments. We'd always say stuff like, "I bet Damon could get past this part with one hand" or "I heard Damon already beat this without looking at the screen." We built him up to a Chuck Norris-esqe gaming prowess. But don't tell Chuck Norris I said that.

Even now I can't get past level three. But who cares? It was Batman. And it ~~was~~ is awesome.

Come back tomorrow for my next game. And be sure to check out all the posts in my Most Memorable NES Games list.

[Screenshots courtesy of GameFAQs]

Honorable Mentions [Most Memorable NES Games]

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Fri, 25 Nov 2011 19:32:00 +0000

These are five games that I remember fondly, but just didn't make the cut for my Most Memorable NES Games list. They are not in any particular order. Be sure to check back tomorrow for the beginning of the my Most Memorable NES Games list!

Maniac Mansion

I close my eyes and think back to this game, and just feel joy. I remember laughing so hard at parts. This game captured my imagination through its amazing narrative like few games had. Any game that lets you microwave a hamster is going to sit pretty well with me.

I played this when I was younger with my friend Adam. We got pretty far, but I don't remember getting the best ending. When I was in middle school, my brother, Joby, and I took a two mile trek down to J & J Pawn one afternoon. We found this gem for $4 or something. I played it a bunch again and finally got the best ending.

Chip 'N Dale Rescue Rangers

This was a 2 player co-op dream. Disney and Capcom in the early '90s were gold. Solid gold. It was easy, but so fun. My brother and I played this one to death. I think my sister may have even gotten in on this action.

We played this one a bunch out on my dad's farm. On another one of those gargantuan console televisions with the round clicky dials. We'd make cheese sandwiches and totally put up with our dad yelling at us to go outside. So worth it.

Metroid

I never appreciated this game until I got a little older. The atmosphere and ambiance is crazy good considering it's an 8-bit title from 1986. This was a very early rental for me. I remember playing this on our old 9 in. black-and-white TV that my mom let my brother and me have in our room. I was totally lost. I had no idea what to do or where to go. Al Gore hadn't invented the internet yet, so I was stuck.

I came back to it a few years later with some help from my friend, Laramie. We got through maybe half of it. I finally finished this one while in middle school with some help from Nintendo Power and a few very late nights.

Mike Tyson's Punch Out!!

I never owned this one, but it was a frequent rental. My first memories of this game were on a PlayChoice 10 arcade cabinet at Big Cheese Pizza. There's just something about greasy pizza and video games. I'd race through my salad, which consisted mostly of cottage cheese and sunflower seeds, to go play a quick game before our pizza came.

It's a magically addictive game that even holds up today. I still play it every once and while. I bought a used copy in my teen years, although it was just called Punch Out!!. Super Macho Man is as far as I've ever gotten. But who could forget 007-373-5963 to go straight to Tyson, even if I can only get in one punch?

Back to the Future

This is one of the most reviled of all NES games. And for good reason. It is electronic vomit in a cartridge format. The only reason it gets a nod is because it was the first game my brother and I owned beside Super Mario Bros. /Duck Hunt.

We got this for Christmas the same year we got our NES. I was so pumped to play this. The movie was awesome, the game had to be too, right? Let's play this thing! Yeah... After playing for about seven minutes, I'd had enough. To this day, I still cannot get past the milkshake challenge at the end of level one. Jeez.

What Video Games Mean to Me

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 14:29:00 +0000

I've been thinking about video games quite a bit lately. No, not the Modern Warfare 3 that my students won't quit talking about. I don't even care about most modern stuff. I'm talking about video games from back in the day. My day.

I've been interested in video games for almost as long as I can remember. I have vague memories of playing on an old, wood-paneled pong console at my grandma's house when I was very small. My cousins had an Atari 2600 that melted my brain at the time. The first console I remember getting was an Atari 7800. Pole Position II, anyone? Good, because that's the only game we had.

Where the Love Began
But the machine that captured my heart was the Nintendo Entertainment System. It would go on to be affectionately called the "regular Nintendo" by my brother and me. I can still feel the adrenaline pumping through my eight-year-old body when my mom said we could rent one. That's right. Rent one.

It was one of the most exciting moments of my young life when we came home with that bad boy. We got to rent several games with it too. I distinctly remember R.C. Pro-Am and Life Force, for sure. We finally got that baby hooked up to our old wood-grain console TV. That's right. A console TV. I had played Nintendo at friends' houses, but this was different. I controlled the games and the pace. And my brother was the only person I had to take turns with. Sort of. I was hooked.

My brother and I finally got our own NES a year later as a combined Christmas present. Ripping through that cheap, festive wrapping paper on that early December morning made me feel like, well, a kid at Christmas time. Who would have thought a small gray box would have brought me such untold hours of joy, frustration, and imagination.

But Why Video Games?
Why am I still thinking about this more than 20 years later? I haven't quite put my finger on it. There was just something comforting about playing a video game when I was kid. Video games don't judge you. A game doesn't care if you're on food stamps or have jeans that are too small. They don't mind your low-rent apartment. Video games don't make fun of you if you're not good at sports, or have a lazy eye.

So many kids seemed to care about those things. But I knew my games wouldn't. My family moved around quite a bit when I was younger. Changing schools and towns was tough sometimes. Things could be so uncertain and unpredictable. But, as cheesy as this sounds, I always knew Mario, Link, and Mega Man would still be there, and still be the same.

My own children haven't gotten into gaming like I did when I was their age. Maybe that's for the best. Maybe it will happen when they're older. Maybe it will never happen. I'm not sure.

Back to Ten-Year-Old Me
But games are on my mind right now. So, over the next few days, I'd like to share the most memorable Nintendo games from way back when. My way back when. This is not going to be a TOP 10 BEST NINTENDO GAMES EVER! kind of list. These will be the most personal and memorable games for me when I was growing up.

There will be a few honorable mentions and then I'll post one game a day until I've reached the top. Thanks for hanging out with me as I take a trip back to visit ten-year-old me. So go grab a SqueezeIt and turn up the Vanilla Ice. It'll be fun.

Photo credit: kenfagerdotcom

My Sweet Little Girl

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 12:16:00 +0000

My little girl turns five today. And that's messing me up a little. I do not know where the time has gone. I know every parent says that. I know every parent means it too. But, I mean... wow. I don't just mean it. I feel it.

I'm pretty good with her up until about three. Then, somehow, these last two years happened. They happened with a velocity that will leave blur marks on the timeline of my life. It makes me uncomfortable when I make myself think about it.

She is the third of my four children. Even that sounds scary sometimes. She's my only girl, so there will always be an innate specialness that comes with that.

She (back before I knew she was a she) was the first and only child whose gender I had prayed about. The day my wife told me she was pregnant again I began praying for a girl. I'm not entirely sure why. I knew I had always wanted sons and daughters. I guess part of me knew that this one was going to be a little girl.

I wrote about it in my journal back when I used to keep one. It's been one of the few things in life that I just kind of knew. God answered my prayers one morning as I was writing. That confirmation was so assuring. I didn't tell anyone though. I was too scared to really write it. It was just between me and God.

When we went for the check-up to find out the gender, I already knew what the report would be. The thing is, I can't tell you how reassuring it was to hear it out loud from another person.

I remember the tingly feeling in my palms as I watched the ultrasound tech preparing the machine. My anticipation grew as she put the blue ultrasound gel on Nell's body. I could hardly stand it, when she finally asked us if we wanted to find out what we were having. I'm not sure if I was more joyful about "officially" knowing I was having a daughter, or seeing one more example of God's faithfulness in my life.

Happy birthday, Selah! I waited so patiently and faithfully for you. I'm thankful you're such a sweet little girl. My sweet little girl.

A Nice Little Cuff

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Sun, 21 Aug 2011 20:35:00 +0000

The crisp bite of Aqua-Velva always smelled good to me when I was a kid. I can remember my dad putting it on after his shower before he would go to work. Sometimes I would sneak a little bit out of the bottle when I went to the bathroom. I liked smelling like my dad. He worked a shipping dock in the evening loading and unloading trucks. I don't think he liked that job very much.

After he was dressed, he would come and sit on the couch and talk to us while he put on his socks and shoes. They were cheap, white Spalding sneakers from Walmart. But I didn't care. I wanted a pair just like them. I loved those shoes because I loved my dad. He always wore shorts to work since it got so hot on those loading docks. I don't think he liked that job very much. He would turn his tube socks down to make a nice little cuff. I used to wear my socks the same way.

He would fix some supper for my brother, sister and me before he left. It was often macaroni & cheese and these little chicken fried steak patties. My dad used to make the best macaroni and cheese. It came out of this generic white box whose bold black letters told the world it was simply Macaroni and Cheese. My dad didn't make a lot money. I don't think he liked that job very much. But I sure did like that macaroni and cheese he made for us. I make it for my own kids now.

* * *

I really don't think my dad liked that job very much. But he did it anyway. Maybe he disliked having cheap aftershave and sneakers too. But he had them anyway. Maybe he couldn't stand that he had to make the generic macaroni and cheese. Be he made it anyway. And he did part of it for us.

So often I get caught up in the things of life. I worry about the tangibles instead of the intangibles. I worry too much about the stuff and too little about the people.

I loved my dad because of who he was, and not because of what he had. When I was young, I just wanted him. I need to remember my kids are the same way. It's easy to give things. It's a lot harder to give yourself.

Breaking the Fast

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Mon, 01 Aug 2011 14:28:00 +0000

Zeke: 2 waffles with butter & syrup- stacked and cut into 8 triangles, 1 cup of water (no ice), 2 pills, 1 purple kid vitamin
Eli: 1 bowl Sugar Frosted Flakes in 2% milk (aka blue milk) and a small spoon, 1 cup of 2% milk, 1 orange kid vitamin
Selah: 2 waffles with syrup (no butter)- stacked and cut into 8 triangles, 1 cup of whole milk (aka red milk) with a pink straw, 1 red kid vitamin
Titus: 1 bowl Tootie Frooties in whole milk and a large spoon served in a yellow plastic bowl on top of a napkin, 1 sippy cup of whole milk, 1/2 kid vitamin
Dad: 2 500mg Tylenol, 1 16oz tumbler of strong coffee

÷ 2-slot toaster + 1 whiney mouth + 6 grabby hands x EVERYDAY = Breakfast

...Oh, and don't mess up or you might have to start all over.

Enjoy!

Photo by borja iza | argazkiak

My Daddy Can't Whip Your Daddy

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Wed, 29 Jun 2011 20:16:00 +0000

I wrote a post for the Teacher-Dad blog. It's about fear, fathering, and sports.

You can read it by following the link:
My Daddy Can't Whip Your Daddy

A Cheap, Plasticky Walmart Affair

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Thu, 16 Jun 2011 15:50:00 +0000

I slammed the phone down. Hard. Not an angry kind of slam, but a scared "I don't want this thing in my hands" kind of slam.

I can still feel the smoothness of that dark green phone- one of those cheap, plasticky Walmart affairs. The coiled cord was the length of an orange industrial extension cable I'd see in my dad's garage. It was permanently knotted in spots. The buttons lit up a putrid yellow when you pressed them, and the whole thing felt like it would crumble if you squeezed it too hard. Cruddy for sure, but, always remembered. It was on this phone that I finally got the courage to call Nell for the first time.

I'd had her number ingrained in my subconscious for a while now. 275–2288. My quivering 16-year-old hand attempted another dial. I made it to the first 8 this time before I flung the phone back down. Bah. Why was this so hard?

I knew she had watched the movie. Forrest Gump had just finished on TNT. I knew she had watched it. I knew. I'd overheard her say something about that movie at school before. That was going to be my in for the call. I'd thought up a hundred excuses to call her before, but I always psyched myself out of it. But tonight was going to be different. I'd made a deal with myself. I had to call. I just had to.

A big chug of Dr. Pepper. Cheek slaps. I'm doing it. This was not going to be like all those other nights. I am doing it. Tonight. Do or die.

Hand shaking, I eased up the clunky green phone. Dial tone. Deep breath. 2. This is so stupid. Why am I so nervous? I see her at school every day. I have classes with her. I know her. It's fine. 7. What if her mom or dad picks up first? Do I say who's calling or just ask for Nell? 5. What if nobody answers? What if they're not home? 2. What if she doesn't know who I am? What if I have to explain who I am? 2. What if she didn't watch the movie after all? 8. What if I just totally freeze? She is so breathtakingly beautiful. What if I can't remember what to say? The last digit. Uncharted waters. What if... 8.

Ringing.
Ringing.
"Hello?"
"Uh. Hi. Is, is this Nell?"
"Yes."
"Oh, hey. It's, uh, Justin- from school. So, did you watch Forrest Gump tonight..."

[Photo courtesy of Oldphoneworks.com]

Mag Wheels and Jordache Cool

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Wed, 27 Apr 2011 23:59:00 +0000

I can't believe I still remember my ck6000. What kind of pretentious name for a bike is that? It was a previously owned (we just said "used" back then) gift from my dad he picked up from who knows where.

It was a BMX beast. I can still see the rust on the welds between the crossbeam and the handlebars. It had these awful faded yellow mag wheels. MAG wheels. That was cool back then. Jordache cool.

Those mag wheels were heavy too. That whole bike was ridiculously heavy. Mine had a black replacement vinyl seat with the diamond etched cross pattern that would always get all sweaty.

It was the first bike I learned to do tricks on. I'd go all the way out to the beginning of our farm's gravel drive way. My chubby fourth -grade legs would pump as hard as I could go. When I was just past my dad's workshop, I would slam my right foot down to brake and let my left leg slide out on the ground while that big ol' ck6000 would come whipping out from under me in the most bad boy powerslide I could do. I probably practiced that move for two hours straight when I first learned how.

That was when a bike meant something. Not only was it freedom and travel, it was status. Curb jumps were requisite. Not a bike. My bike. It was hideous. I loved it.

Somebody stole that bike right out of my front yard a few years later. I was crushed. That bike was a boyhood love. It took me to many a sleepover and countless trips to the video store to re-rent Final Fantasy for the seventh time in a row. I hope it's still out there... somewhere.

[Photo courtesy of BMXmuseum]

The Thing With Feathers

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Mon, 21 Mar 2011 03:58:00 +0000

Criminal Minds is a seriously good show. I got into it last summer and have been watching reruns every time they are on. And boy are they on. A lot. I think it's the new Law & Order, which I'm convinced is on every hour without fail on some channel.

Tonight I watched a new (to me) episode called Mosley Lane. It was one of those gut -wrenching episodes that makes you want to go lock your doors, hug your kids, and then go check the locks on the doors.

This episode made me think about Zeke. One of the abducted children dies protecting a little girl who had also been kidnapped. Zeke is such a special little guy. He is so strong and brave- so much more than I was at his age. He is not afraid to get out there and try something. I think he would be the kind of kid who would have died to protect an innocent girl.

My special little guy is definitely not that little anymore. But, he'll always be special. I'm so thankful for the person is becoming.

The show ended with a great quote by Emily Dickinson. Here is the poem it comes from:

Hope is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.

Don't You Love It When They Come Back?

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Fri, 14 Jan 2011 22:32:00 +0000

One of my favorite things is when former students come back to see me. I love when they come and find me during their inside recess, or come to ask me questions when they are working on a project. I even like it when they stop me for a 30 second conversation in the hall.

Most of the students I've taught are still at the same school with me, so I get the luxury of seeing some of them frequently. A girl I taught last year, whom I absolutely adore, stopped by during my planning period. She needed some help making a video for her math class. I took 20 minutes out of my day and had a blast filming a fraction commercial with her. It was an unexpected surprise that totally made my day.

In my short time as a teacher, I seldom find that students come back to me because they are excited about the things I taught them. In fact, I've never had a student come back and tell me "Hey Mr. Stortz, thanks for showing me how adverbial phrases relate to dependent clauses!" Most are rarely impressed at my knowledge of books, or my abilities with a computer. Many do not remember the famous quotes I recite or the lessons I lay out. They don't remember my disheveled desk, or that my lesson plans are not impeccable.

What they do remember is the way that I treated them. The more I teach, the more I am convinced that the most valuable gift I can give to my students is not an education. It is not motivation, success, or even inspiration. The most valuable gift I can give to them is love and acceptance as a human being.

I like to think that my students come back because they know that I love and accept them as people. Learning flourishes in the context of love and acceptance. As soon as I stop loving, I stop teaching.

I hope they never stop coming back.

I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.
-Maya Angelou

A Game Gear Christmas (What the Heck's a Game Gear?)

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Sat, 11 Dec 2010 21:29:00 +0000

1992 was the last Christmas that still had a touch of that special magic for me. I was twelve, and although I didn't "believe," it was still a time of wonder.

We had the big Christmas at my dad's house that year. I remember the night of Christmas Eve. My brother and sister and I slept upstairs. It was just one open room. I had to duck because the ceiling was the slants of the roof. My dad wasn't big on festive decor. But, I remember he had colored lights on white string connected along the slopes of the ceiling like velvet ropes on a red carpet premier night.

This was the last Christmas Eve that I can remember actually having a hard time falling asleep. I stared up at those lights for hours, my mind swirling with hope and anticipation. The one thing consuming my twelve year old brain was a Nintendo Gameboy. It was my heart's desire and all I wanted for Christmas.

The next morning, I got up and endured my dad's usual stalling techniques. He was never ready to open gifts. He had to make coffee, go to the bathroom five times, get something out of the bedroom and so on. Finally, it was time to rip my gifts open. I got to the one that I was sure of being a Gameboy. As I tore in to the colorful wrapping, I noticed a cocky -looking, blue cartoon hedgehog looking up at me. I had received a Sega Game Gear.

It was impossible to hide the disappointment on my face. A part of me was crushed. I looked up at my mom and I remember seeing the smile on her face melt away as she took in my reaction. A conversation we had later would reveal how much she had wanted to get me something nice; something better than a Gameboy. The Game Gear was in color, cost more, and my mom was convinced that it was better in every way. It just wasn't what I had wanted. In my childishness, I had insulted the giver. In my immaturity, I had insulted my mom.

* * *

Game Gear Christmas stands out in my mind for many reasons. But the most important were the lessons I began to learn about giving. I learned that you can be thankful for something without liking it; you can appreciate the giver without loving what has been given. There are no strings attached to true giving. It is free and bourne out of love.

It has taken many years with my wife to fully cement that in my mind. Giving is really about people and not the gift. It's about the relationship between the giver and the receiever. Our model for this is the greatest gift that has ever been given- the gift of forgiveness through Jesus. I don't have that Game Gear anymore. I have something much better. That's ultimately what I want to remember this holiday season.

The Donut

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Wed, 24 Nov 2010 23:59:00 +0000

I can almost taste the sweet, gooey goodness of a warm, freshly made donut from McAllister’s Bakery. The building’s shoddy facade and dimly lit interior were poor predictors of the blissful delicacies contained within. The bakery was only a few blocks from the house I lived in when I was twelve. My brother and I would walk down there on Saturday mornings to get breakfast for us and my mom and sister. It made me feel grown -up and helpful at the same time.

I still remember pointing my chubby fingers and smudging the glass display cases as I ordered. There was something about a donut back then. They could melt away the troubles of a husky and awkward pre -teen boy. They could bring all of us together, if only for a few minutes, to enjoy something as a family. They were able to lift our spirits, and make everything better for a little while. It was a fond ritual that I looked forward to while we lived there.

Flash forward eighteen years. My four year old daughter was giving me grief this morning about going to her last day of preschool this week. The pouty lower lip, the crossed arms, the Jell-O legs. It was all there. A full on fit was imminent. At the request of my wife, I did what any self -respecting parent would do. I bribed her.

“How about we stop for a donut on the way to school?”
“A pink one?”
“Sure.”
“Yeeeeeaaaaaaaahhh!”

As she bit into a lump of lard and sugar with pink sprinkles, I saw her four year old stress and troubles fade away. The ability of a child to live in the moment is breathtaking. For next few moments in the car, my little girl was truly without a care in the world.

* * *

Donuts don’t really have that effect on me anymore. Since I’m officially an adult, it is my business to over complicate things; to find all the “whys” instead of the “why nots.” The panacea a fried ring of batter and sugar once had no longer has the appeal it used to. I’m not totally sure why.

Adult me is always concerned about what’s next, whatever that may be. It’s often hard to keep my mind on the here and now. Maybe that’s the key to the donut experience. It’s a place holder to anchor me to a moment of time right now. It’s a simple reminder that, at twelve, four, or thirty years old, life can still be lived in the fading moments right in front of my eyes.

Maybe I’ll get a donut for me the next time we stop.

Photo credit: Kevin Lawver

In My Empty Room

noreply@blogger.com (Justin Stortz) — Tue, 03 Aug 2010 15:34:00 +0000

See the full gallery on posterous

As I asked our wonderful custodian to unlock my classroom, I realized it had almost been two months to the day since I had been in my room. That doesn't sound like long, but in teacher time, it feels like a lifetime.

I stepped through the door and set my things down on my empty desk. I started to glance around the room. Empty. Empty walls. Empty whiteboard. Empty counters. Empty desks. Empty chairs. Just empty.

Then a very strange thing happened. I began to be overcome with emotion. It was almost to the point of tears. I was not expecting that. I looked around and I swear I could hear them. The laughter, the questions, the chatter. . . it was almost audible.

I had two pretty amazing groups of students last year. It was a difficult year in many ways. The first year of teaching a new grade level always is. But, those students made it something special.

I couldn't sit down just yet. I had to walk around, and look and touch. I had to relive the old before I could begin the new. I let my fingers lightly drag across the desktops. I glanced out the window. I didn't stifle the memories. I let them flood back naturally and unencumbered. I paced the room for fifteen minutes before I took a deep breath and finally sat down at my desk. It was time to move on.

* * *
Today is a blank slate, much like the current state of my room. I have no expectations. I have no list. I have no agenda. I simply want to be here. I want to feel the space. I want to look at it with fresh eyes and an open mind. I want to causally leaf through the pages of possibilities and not limit my thinking. I want to see this room for what is possible instead of simply what is. It's empty now, but it won't be for long.

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