World Minus 1: Earthbound (Pre-Prequel Chapter)
Prologue: A Birth of Umbilical Proportions
My initial reasoning for the existence of this pre-prequel chapter is that I couldn't seem to find a place for the Sesame Street Presents: Follow That Bird experience in the opening to The Schoolyard Menace. I went to see the movie at a drive-in movie theater with my parents in 1985. I stuck my head out of the sunroof of our Chevrolet Monte Carlo for the duration of the movie. It was my first moviegoing experience, and it was truly something else. The movie shaped my early childhood, and Big Bird became like an idol to me. I feel as though the experience deserves its own dedicated section, and I am now thinking that it would make more sense thematically in the preceding chapter to The Schoolyard Menace. More than likely the concluding section of Earthbound.
September the eighth, nineteen-eighty-two was a day just like any other. The sun rose just like any other day. It set just like any other day. "Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor could be heard on many a radio that day. It had been a popular song throughout the year. Everyone was pumped for the end of summer and the beginning of fall. That very evening, my mother baked chicken in the oven for my dad and herself. My mother was preparing to settle in for another episode of Dynasty. Her favorite soap opera at the time. Things were beginning to heat up in the Carrington family and my mom was very much looking forward to seeing the outcome. Unfortunately, I had other plans that night. Before she could catch up with the residents of Denver, my mother went into labor with me. My dad quickly helped my mother into the car and we were off to Presbyterian Hospital. The half eaten chicken was left behind - to be cleaned up at a later time. It was going to be a long night!
A story about my birth that I originally intended for the end of World 11: Going Home. It was ultimately far too unusual to include in the project: "Life is the biggest adventure. Mine began most unusually. I glimpsed a wondrous light at the end of a tunnel, but could not follow as a result of my umbilical cord. It had become wrapped around my neck and the more I struggled to free myself, the tighter it became. My time in the womb flashed before my eyes. Soon, I began to lose consciousness. A strange tingling sensation was followed by a strong shift in vibration. I then felt myself go limp. I had died. My heart had stopped and my adventure had seemingly come to an end. Yet I could still hear the melody I enjoyed listening to in the womb. I may not have known what a boat was or just how to row it, but I could almost picture them in my mind. Just like that, I found myself in a majestic place. I was sitting beside a beautiful body of water. Numerous living organisms were rooted into the ground. They had bright colored tips growing from their arms. Some of the tips brushed away and fell into the water below. The water carried them to shore. It was simply astonishing. I was suddenly filled with overwhelming joy as a magnificent being appeared, as if from nowhere, and sat beside me. She asked in a loving voice, 'Do you come here often?' I replied with a smile, 'Actually, this is my first time.' She smiled back and said, 'You couldn't have picked a better time. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom.' I looked her in the eyes and said, 'It really is quite lovely. I wish it were like this every day.' She glanced down at the palm of my hand and said, 'Is that a fortune cookie?' I was, at first, hesitant to reveal its contents, but I finally budged and said, 'Why, yes. I ate lunch over there and this was in my order. It reads: Today will be a very good day. Today you will find your destiny.' She gave me a blind stare and said, 'Well?' Confused, I replied, 'Well... what?' She said with a smile across her face, 'Did you find your destiny?' I replied with butterflies in my stomach, 'I believe so, yes.' With a certain gleam in her eyes, she said, 'My name is Noemi. What's yours?' I said with a happy heart, 'Aratana Hajimari, but you can call me Mike.' Noemi smiled and said, 'Well, it's nice to meet you, Mike.' She stood up, and as magnificently as she appeared, was set to leave. I said in a frantic hurry, 'Wait, will I ever see you again?' Noemi chuckled and said, 'I come here every day at the same time, so there's a pretty good chance.' It was a very good day. I found Noemi and was filled with indescribable feelings. It must have been like riding a bicycle. Once I learned, I never truly forgot. I had not died. I had merely graduated. No longer did I need Nintendo to soothe my aching heart. I could finally spread my wings and fly away. I was suddenly surrounded in light. I felt a great sense of joy and peace, but more than anything, an overwhelming sense of love. It was a state of being not unlike nirvana. I slowly began to regain consciousness and found myself to be in a room full of caring beings. They seemed very concerned with my condition. I was injected with a saline solution while my head was covered in a warm cap. One of the beings approached me and said while trying his best to contain a tear, 'We thought we had lost you, Mikey!' He appeared to possess a brighter glow than the rest. I remained in intensive care for quite sometime thereafter, but I was eventually allowed to leave. Dad was waiting for me. It was time to go home. It was time to enter the third dimension."
"Dear Carol & Chuck - We wish to thank you for the cute 'Little Slugger' sleep n' play suit you brought to the hospital. We will have to take Michael in it to see the Angels play next season. Also, thanks so much for the beautiful poodle flower arrangement you sent to the hospital. It really brightened my stay in the hospital. We appreciate your thoughtfulness." -Paul, Denise and Michael
"Dear Denise: Excuse me for not getting over to your apartment last week, but perhaps another time will be better for us. I understand that Paul has some specific ideas about products he wants for the baby, so I thought a check would be the most appropriate gift, and the easiest answer for everyone concerned (certainly for me). Good luck -- you're going to have an armful! P.S. Let me know when you need a babysitter on a weekend... I'd like to be (among) the first to volunteer." -Aunt Lorilee MooreWorld Minus 1-1: On Ruoff
From Just Another Day: The Ancient Corridor's lost chapter: "Light. Michael was enshrouded in light. He felt a great sense of joy and peace, but more than anything, an overwhelming sense of love. It was a state of being not unlike nirvana. It began to pass as Michael merged back, by tremendous force, with and into the perspective of his newborn self. He regained consciousness after having been resuscitated by doctors in the delivery room following being cut artificially from Denise's womb by way of cesarean section. Fearing permanent brain damage from seven seconds of lost oxygen, the doctors moved Michael to intensive care, where he was prepped for a saline solution injection, while his head was covered with a warm cap. Paul said with a smile while trying his best to contain a tear, 'We thought we had lost you, Mikey!' Michael remained in the hospital for the better part of a week before being released to Paul and Denise. From his perspective, however, this time passed by in the blink of an eye. On September 13th, 1982, Denise carried Michael into their home on Ruoff for the first time, and Paul said with joy, 'Welcome home, Michael!' Denise said with a smile, 'He made me miss Dynasty, but how can I stay mad at that face!' In no time at all, Paul and Denise drove Michael to meet his grandparents, Allene and Leslie. Upon their arrival, Leslie held his grandson for the first time, and said with much excitement, 'Hey, grandson! Welcome to the world! I would give you a cigar, but you're not old enough!' Over the coming weeks and months, Leslie bonded with his new grandson. Michael was, after all, the first child to grace his life since Denise, Lorilee and Roger moved out and on with their own lives. Upon each visit, Leslie would lighten up like a Christmas tree. He would often take Michael up onto his knee, and recall stories from his glory days. In one particular instance, how he, as a young man fresh from high school, joined the United States Navy; serving alongside a number of close friends, and sailing the wondrously open sea. As Leslie so eloquently said to Michael, 'There was nothing quite like the fresh, salty sea air to get your breeches up and going in the morning!' Time continued to slip by at a painfully fast speed. Michael sat legs crossed in his grandparents' backyard, rolling a ball back and forth with Leslie. They were ecstatic in each other's company. For the first time in a long while, Leslie's Hypomania was under control. More importantly, he was happy. From Michael's young and still very precious perspective, December 23rd, 1983 was just another day. Another day in which Denise drove him to his grandparents' house. In reality, it was far from being an ordinary day. Michael, of course, was anxious to see Leslie again, so he ran with haste into the house. When he did not find him in the living room or kitchen, he searched high and low throughout the rest of his grandparents' house. Leslie was nowhere to be found, and Michael was beginning to feel very confused. In his easily impressionable mind, he wondered if Leslie was merely playing a game of hide and seek with him. Michael ran to Denise and said, 'Pa? Papa?' Denise said with tears in her eyes, 'He had to go away, Michael.' Michael ran into the backyard to continue his desperate search. Sadly, to no avail. Leslie really had gone away, and he was not coming back. He had passed away a day earlier of a fatal heart attack. Just three days shy of Christmas. It would be one without merry and without cheer. As Leslie slept in heavenly peace, it would instead be a Christmas of tears. Paul had strung lights abound with greater care than usual, the stockings were nestled gently beside the tree rich with marvelous decorations, while simply enchanting melodies played on the record player. In spite of tragedy, Paul and Denise were determined to ensure Michael's happiness on Christmas. Oh, and there were also presents. Just for the record, though, the true meaning of Christmas is love in the face of any adversity. Unconditional love and reciprocation with those near and dear, and compassion for those not so fortunate. On December 24th, the whole Haley bunch came together. With extravagant gatherings at Mom's and Carol's houses. It was a feast for the eyes. Denise found comfort in the company of my elder children from a previous marriage; Patrick, Shawna, Paula and Stephanie. Michael, however, remained very confused by the whole ordeal. His first real brush with the death of a loved one. Everything would return to normal in due time. A new state of normal. As with death always comes change..."
While living on Ruoff as a young baby, my mother would often sing me lullabies as I fell asleep in my crib. "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" "Rock-a-Bye Baby" and "Hush, Little Baby" were just a handful of those lullabies.
"This Little Piggy" was a game that my mom and dad would play with my toes from a very early age. They would point to one toe and say with glee, "This little piggy went to market." They would then point to the next toe and say, "This little piggy stayed home." Wee, wee, wee!
I was never the biggest fan of Johnson & Johnson's baby powder. Having it applied to my soiled behind was perhaps my least favorite activity as a newborn. My mother's reassurance that everything was fine did little to quell my fears. Take that demon powder somewhere else.
There was a flight of stairs inside the apartment on Ruoff. My mother often worried about me falling down. A railing was added to keep me from having any accidents.
Sundays were Knight Rider viewing nights while living on Ruoff. It was perhaps the very first show which I watched with my dad. I would often sit on his knee during the show. The complex spy thriller storylines went right over my head at such an early age, but I was mesmerized by the look and sound of the car, the lights on the front of the car that whooshed back and forth and the fact that the car's owner was also named Michael.
My dad owned the original woodgrain Atari 2600 game console. It was initially branded as the Atari Video Computer System. The system popularized games recorded onto swappable ROM cartridges. We owned nine of them. Asteroids, Blackjack, Bowling, Dragster, Freeway, Home Run, Missile Command, Pac-Man and Space Invaders. My dad was especially fond of Blackjack. A card-based game in which you try to come as close to twenty-one without going over. My dad appeared to have the game down to a tee. He may have played card games before. When I was around two years old, I disassembled that Atari 2600 piece by piece. I was curious to see how the thing worked. Electronics were like magic to me back then. It was replaced by a second generation Atari 2600 in the years that followed.
I was very ill on the 4th of July weekend of 1983 and was rocked to sleep by my mother. After that, I had to be rocked every night. Finally, my mother just put me to bed and let me scream. I got over it in two to three nights.
I began to speak on March 31st, 1983. My first words were "Da Da Da." I began to walk on August 29th, 1983. One week before my first birthday. I began to form complete sentences at approximately three years of age. I did however seem to struggle with words that began with the letter L.
While scampering around my parents' confined apartment, I would sometimes close my eyes tightly. I would then continue my adventurous running in the dark. I was exploring my surroundings in a whole new way. I was testing my limits. I was about to bump my head on the kitchen table.
It was a night like any other night. My mother tucked me into my crib and sung me a lullaby. She then said with a whisper, "Sweet dreams, Michael." My mother quietly closed the door on her way out of the room. As I laid there drifting off to sleep, glimpsing scattered pictures in my mind of twinkling stars high up in the sky, I could hear faint shouting coming from the next room. It was a most unsettling kind of sound. As I continued to drift off into dreamland, the shouting intensified. My parents appeared to be having a serious disagreement. The shouting continued for some time. When my mother came over to check on me in the morning, I could almost feel as though something was different. It was something about the way in which her face radiated. She also appeared to be holding back a tear. A few days later, my mother and I moved in with my grandmother. For the life of me, I could not understand why my dad was not joining us. I began to wonder if I had done something wrong. It was not long before I became homesick. I longed for the comforts of my old room. I longed to be held in the loving arms of my dad. A piece of myself was suddenly missing and I did not know how to fill that void. A few months passed. While playing in my grandmother's driveway one afternoon, another boy rode by on his tricycle. He saw me sitting there on my own tricycle and he said with excitement, "Do you want to race?" I just smiled from ear to ear and said simply, "Okay!" We assumed our starting positions, he shouted "GO!" and we raced from one end of my grandmother's block to the other in the blink of an eye. It was a neck and neck race, but I managed to come out in front at the "finish line." I felt so alive in that moment. So giddy. I was overwhelmed by a sense of joy I had not felt in many months. My new friend said with excitement, "Any time you want to race again, just let me know!" He paused for the briefest of moments and then said with a smile, "I live just down the street. My name is Haugau."
My parents' trial separation began in April of 1984. For awhile, they did not talk, but did start seeing each other on weekends as a family. On account of finances, they did not move out together. My dad stayed with his mother while my mother and I lived with my maternal grandmother.World Minus 1-2: Trial Separation
A flashback that originally appeared in Nintendo Rhapsody's World 3: Genesis: "Long ago, whilst my parents were undergoing a trial separation, I lived with my grandmother. In my eyes, she was simply Ma. We often drove to the park together. Not just one but every park in town. I explored everything from forts to rocket ships. What I enjoyed most of all, however, was being pushed on the swing. Having no real friends, Ma was the closest companion I had. Then, there was that most unusual friend of mine. While tricycling through Ma's neighborhood, I met him for the first time. Haugau must have lived in that very same neighborhood. He was, in my memory, the spitting image of Charlie Brown. With his help, I transformed my grandmother's backyard into an adventure. Her orange trees covered a swath of the yard and it was there in which we made our forest. We liked to play in the dirt an awful lot, but that was okay. It would soon be time to wash up. At long last, the day came when Dad drove up in his gold colored Chevrolet Monte Carlo. With a smile planted firmly across my face, I quickly rushed out to greet him. I then learned we would soon be moving into our own house. It was time. It was time to go home. We slowly settled into our new house. I eventually invited Haugau over to visit. I still remember that fateful moment quite well. We met on a corner between my grandmother's and my new house. Haugau had some very sad news for me. He too was moving away. We therefore parted forevermore on that lonesome corner. Farewell, Charlie Brown, my one true imaginary friend. We shall always have our forest."
A flashback that appeared in Nintendo Rhapsody's World 8: Pros and Cons: "While scampering through my grandmother's kitchen as a small boy, she said to me with an ever slight disdain, 'Why don't you sit down for a moment. I'll make you a grilled cheese sandwich.' She knew how much I enjoyed grilled cheese sandwiches. I could never pass up that offer. My grandmother and I were the best of buddies. We explored every local park we could find. My absolute favorite being the park with the giant steel battleship. I could lose myself for hours within its interiors. At the end of the day, my grandmother would be there waiting. After such a long day of playing in the battleships, the forts and the rocket ships, it would be time to leave. My grandmother was, in my eyes, known simply as Ma. There but for a precious moment in time, she was the closest companion I had."
With this chapter's title being a nod to Nintendo's Earthbound series, this seems like a fitting inclusion: "During my parents' trial separation, my mother and I lived with my maternal grandmother and my dad would sometimes call my mom to talk. Occasionally, my dad would ask my mom to put me on the phone. 'Put Mikey on,' he would say to my mom. My own communication skills were very limited at that time, but it seemed to bring joy to the both of us." In Earthbound, you call your dad to save the game.
I would always look forward to the rain while living with my maternal grandmother. I would carelessly run out into it and try to catch raindrops on my tongue. Nothing could possibly bring me down. Not even my grandmother shouting, "Michael, get in the house before you catch a cold!"
One afternoon while exploring my grandmother's backyard, a young girl poked her head over the fence. She appeared to be visiting her own grandmother at the house next door. The young girl just stared at me with a look of seriousness I had not seen in other children. She said with a blank expression, "What are you doing over there, little boy?" I said with glee, "Playing!" The young girl proceeded to climb and stand atop the fence. Looking out over my grandmother's backyard, she said in a seemingly confident tone, "You're not doing it right. The world's bigger than your yard. You need to get up and see it from up high." She frightened me, her disregard for safety frightened me and I am almost certain she was a demon girl of some kind. I ran back into my grandmother's house. I never saw that girl again.
I suffered a seizure due to high fever in July of 1984 while sitting upright on my mother's bed in my grandmother's house. I fell backward and my eyes began to roll up into my forehead. My mother quickly rushed me to the hospital. The doctors gave me medication and ensured that I did not swallow my tongue until I regained consciousness. I remained in the hospital for three days.
When I was two years of age, I climbed into my mother's car and stepped on the gas pedal. She had left the car's ignition running outside my grandmother's house while trying to fix my car seat. I was probably curious about the inner workings of the car, having seen her driving it in the past. I managed to put the car into drive and it plowed into the side of the garage, greatly damaging the door and wall. It was a catastrophe. I was forbidden from driving again following that incident. Thankfully, the car was indeed in the forward position. Had the car been in reverse, I would have more than likely run over my grandmother. She was loading things into the trunk at the time.
Some time after driving my mother's car into my grandmother's garage, I experienced a strange dream about a courtroom proceeding. To my surprise, the judge and jury were themselves toddlers. The jury seemed eager to leave. They were ready for their bottle. The judge swung his gavel every which way in an attempt to bring order to the court. My lawyer stood in front of the court and pleaded for my acquittal. He brought tears to the eyes of the jury. Considering my lawyer spoke mostly in baby gibberish, it was quite the accomplishment. After reviewing my case, the judge found me guilty and ordered everyone in the courtroom to dance.
During my extensive expeditions of my grandmother's house and yard, I wandered into my grandmother's garage and found myself in awe of the vents on the back wall. My imagination ran wild while peering through those vents. I could see piles of dirt and tall brown grass. I was certain that an African safari awaited on the other side. Those vents were like portals to another world.
While living with my grandmother, I learned how to ride a bicycle for the very first time. I would often ride along the sidewalk outside her house on my little red bicycle with training wheels. I felt so empowered the first time I made a complete loop around the block.
A woman named Pat Elliott lived next door to my grandmother and she would check in on me over the fence from time to time while I was exploring my grandmother's backyard. She had children of her own, but they were fully grown. She would say with a smirk, "You're not making too much trouble for your grandmother, are you?" Apart from occasionally teasing Darcy (my mother's cat), I was on my best behavior. It had been a good while since I committed a Grand Theft Auto.
My childhood adventures could not be contained to my grandmother's backyard for long. In time, my grandmother began driving me to the local park just down the street from her house. I discovered a fort that I could climb into and look out over the park from. There was even a working spyglass to peer through.World Minus 1-4: Follow That Bird
My love for Sesame Street began the night I saw Follow That Bird at the drive-in movie theater. I poked my head out of the sunroof of our Chevrolet Monte Carlo for the duration of the movie. I would later attend several Sesame Street Live! events. On one occasion, Big Bird himself came down the aisle and patted me on the head.
Pools always gave me the creeps as a young child. I did not know how to swim, the deep end may as well have been the depth of the Titanic, and I did not particularly like getting soaked. However, on this occasion, my super hero was there to help me into the pool. I wrapped my arms around my dad's shoulders and he took me for a ride on the shallow end. He promised me that there was nothing to fear. With my dad guiding the way, the pool suddenly did not seem so bad. It was a bright sunny day too. Perhaps we might try this again sometime, I thought. I was still going nowhere near the deep end of the pool, though!
The enclosed shopping mall down the street from my grandmother's house included a food court with ICEE drinks, cookies and other sugary delicacies not exactly ideal for a toddler with an overabundance of energy. My addiction to ICEE began here. Near the back left-hand side of the food court there was a small video game arcade. Inside, a few video game cabinets could be found alongside more traditional games like basketball and Whac-A-Mole. Among the arcade cabinets was a little game called Mario Bros. I was far too young to understand how to operate these machines, but the flashy sprites onscreen were certainly fun to look at. Go, Mario, go! In time, perhaps I would have the hand-eye coordination to don the plumber's overalls.
I slept in my baby crib for the very last time on May 23rd, 1986. I received my new bed the very next day on May 24th, 1986. It was put together that night.
My grandmother accompanied me to preschool. It was located on the back side of the YMCA. My grandmother would take my hand and we would walk into the class together. The teacher was named Mary Ray. She seemed like a nice lady, but I could not bear to see my grandmother leave. I held tightly onto my grandmother's hand. She ultimately decided to stay with me during class. While Mary Ray was telling stories to the preschool class, I found myself jumping up and down on the mat. I was unable to remain still for longer than a few seconds. I appeared to have zero attention span for the teacher's stories. After school, Mary Ray discussed my conduct in class with my grandmother. She did not think I was hyperactive, but that I was certainly not normal. If only she knew that Haugau was presently tugging on her dress. In the days and weeks that followed, the class would learn how to hold scissors and cut paper into various shapes. I held my scissors in a different manner to the other children in the class. The teacher suggested to my grandmother that I may have delayed motor development. Finally, the day came that I had been fearing the most. Swim day. I took one look at the pool and began to scream. I was still very much afraid of water. Especially deep water. And unlike before, my super hero was not there to guide me into the pool. It is a wonder that I managed to graduate from preschool. With diploma in hand, I was ready for kindergarten. But was kindergarten ready for me?
A portion of the introduction to Nintendo Rhapsody's World 0: The Schoolyard Menace. I will likely be fleshing it out somewhat for Earthbound: "A month before my first day at Orchard Dale, my parents and I moved into our new house. They had recently reconciled after a trial separation. During their separation, my mother and I lived with my maternal grandmother. I rarely saw my dad during that time. I still vividly remember the day that my dad drove up in his gold colored Chevrolet Monte Carlo. With a smile planted firmly across my face, I quickly rushed out to greet him. He took me in his loving arms, and it was then that I learned we would soon be moving into our own house. It was time to go home. As my entry into Orchard Dale grew closer, I began to settle into our new home. It was certainly a bigger place than what we had previously on Ruoff. I would even invite my imaginary friend, Haugau, over to visit on a few occasions. He had been a close companion of mine during those tough times while my parents were separated, but as their relationship improved, Haugau and I would slowly drift apart. I eventually learned that he too was moving away. We parted forevermore on a corner near my grandmother's house. Farewell, my shorthaired transparent friend. We shall always have our memories."
Mork & Mindy was my introduction to Robin Williams. He played an alien named Mork from the planet Ork. An alien who came to Earth in an egg-shaped spacecraft. He was given a most unusual assignment by his superior, Orson. To observe and study human behavior. I was very much new to Earth myself. I could see a little of myself in Robin Williams' character. He had such a unique way of looking at things. He had a childlike sense of wonder. He saw things in people that few others did. He was someone who had not been broken by human life. He was, after all, an alien from another planet. I certainly felt like a space alien myself at times. Mork and I may have come to Earth for different reasons, but we both possessed a one-of-a-kind method of expressing ourselves. Even though my own expression sometimes led to destructive tendencies. Thank you, Robin! Or should I say, Hooey-Goo!
Mike calling Orson. Come in, Orson. Mike calling Orson. Come in, Orson. Orson said in a deep voice, "Here I am, Mike. What's been going on?" I replied with a smile, "Well, this week, sir, I learned that on Earth, you shouldn't rush into things." Orson said with curiosity, "You'll have to explain that." I replied with a look of confidence, "Well, sir, if you're going to drive a car, you should be tall enough to see through the windshield. You see, on Earth, you're born with these tiny limbs and you have to wait until you're old enough to do certain things. I learned this the hard way." Orson said with further curiosity, "You mean Earthlings are born premature?" I said with a smile, "Not premature, sir, just a wee bit smaller than your ordinary Earthling. But they have their parents there to help guide them until they're old enough to understand. You see, on Earth, growth takes time. It's that growth, sir, that provides Earthlings with some of the most powerful lessons." Orson said with understanding, "It sounds like you learned a lot this week, Mike. Keep me informed of your progress!" I said with a heavy heart, "Until next week, sir, nanu nanu!"Epilogue: The Schoolyard Menace
Shortly after moving into our new house, my dad dug out our second generation Atari 2600. More powerful video game systems may have already been on store shelves by that point in time, but the Atari 2600 was still the king in our household. The console's joystick was always a joy to hold in the hand. It offered diagonal control in addition to the standard up, down, left and right movements. It worked well for most games on the Atari 2600, but required a fair amount of patience to master some games on the system. As a result, the joystick definitely saw some wear and tear through the years. Dad reached for our collection of Atari 2600 game programs and proceeded to let me decide which one we would play that day. I pointed to Home Run. A somewhat primitive baseball game intended for one or two players. It had more in common with table football (fussball) than baseball, but my dad was willing to give it another try. And I did not know any better at the time. After dad hit the ball to me, I quickly mashed the red button on the Atari 2600's controller and thrusted the joystick in every direction imaginable. My three little men were all over the field. I would be lucky if I managed to get even one out. My dad suggested we play another game instead. He reached for Bowling. It had a far more simplistic goal. Throw a ball down a lane and try to knock down as many pins as possible. If it was anything like Skee-Ball, I was certain that I would enjoy it. We continued to play the Atari 2600 for some time. Soon, however, it would be time for bed. I needed to develop the habit of getting to bed earlier. I would be starting Kindergarten soon.
While scampering around the house like a wild animal, my dad cautiously pulled me aside and reached up the back of my shirt. He told me that he was going to remove my batteries. It was time to rest now. My batteries would be returned to me later. This may have been a reference to Small Wonder. A TV show about a girl that was actually a robot.
Two of my most cherished stuffed animals were a large brown bear and beige colored rabbit. They were with me while living with my maternal grandmother and they came with me when my parents and I moved into our new house. Sometime after the big move, I announced to my parents that my bear and rabbit were to be married and I held the reception in our new backyard. Everyone was in attendance, including my imaginary friend Haugau. Bear and rabbit eventually gave birth to a beautiful brabitt boy.
My dad would often hold my hand while we were making our way toward the exit of various grocery and hardware stores. A row of safety bollards could be found just outside the stores. These tall cylinder shaped poles prevented cars from driving into the pathway. As my dad and I approached one of the poles, he would say with a smile, "Bread and butter." It meant I have to let go now, but it won't be forever. My dad released my hand and we went our separate ways around the pole. There was a brief moment of uncertainty, but we ultimately reunited on the other side. Dad reached out for my hand once more and we safely made our way to the car. It was time to go home.World 0: The Schoolyard Menace (Prequel Chapter) (Extended Cut)
World 0-1: Our House
A greeting card message sent by Mrs. Evans in the summer of 1988: "Thank you for the pretty gold beads - And please thank mommy, too, for her nice note. I really appreciate it. And for these three funny birds on this card. We are seeing a lot of them on our trip. Do come to visit me next year. Thank you again for my special necklace. Hugs, Mrs. Evans."World 0-2: Sit and Listen
A few thoughts on my home life while attending Orchard Dale Elementary in 1989. I used to sit in my room listening to The Beach Boys and I would often compose my own music via a toy piano. One of the songs was entitled simply "Doors." It was just a rudimentary series of increasing and decreasing notes, but it was music to my ears at the time. The Atari 2600 Space Invaders portion of the chapter would be themed around Orson Welles' mischievous War of the Worlds radio play from 1938. I also used to play Dragster with my dad on the big oak television set in the living room. All I seem to remember of that game is burning out the race car over and over again.
When thinking back upon Orchard Dale Elementary's computer lab, two words come to mind. Cold and sterile. It was devoid of the usual classroom writing utensils. Occupied instead by thinking machines. Machines that appeared to have one function only. The output of math equations to a monitor.
While attending the first grade at Orchard Dale, my mother would occasionally drive me over to Mrs. Evans house. She happened to live directly across the street from the school. It was certainly a joy to catch up with her. I had missed her so much since beginning the first grade. I never formed the same kind of bond with Mrs. Hashimoto.
A note attached to a first grade art project: "I like to mow the lawn with my daddy. I have my own mower."
My time at Orchard Dale Elementary had come to an abrupt end. I was placed in a non-public school known as Rossier. It would be the first time in which I rode the little yellow school bus to school.World 0-3: From Rossier with Love
Rossier was the very first non-public school that I attended. Not to be confused with a private school. A non-public school often had far less funding than public schools, and focused solely on special needs students with severe behavior problems and emotional disturbances. These were not the kind of schools one wanted to attend freely. It could often be an unstable environment, but the teachers there seemed to be better prepared to deal with certain situations than the ones in public school. And overall, the smaller classrooms made for less distractions while learning.
It is safe to say that I suffered from sensory overload in my first grade class at Orchard Dale Elementary. There were a grand total of thirty-one other students in the classroom. Karen Davenport's class at Rossier School was a rather stark contrast to that. Her class had just six other students. It offered an entirely different kind of vibe. A quieter space with far fewer distractions. I could actually focus on my assignments more often than not. For once, my shoes might even stay on my feet.
Rossier School is perhaps the only school I attended in which the class had a nap time. I have memories of laying down underneath the table for a period of time. This may have actually been called "quiet time." I don't seem to recall this activity taking place very often, however. It does eerily remind me of the lockdowns in later schools due to a disturbance on campus.
A System80 resided in the Rossier classroom. It was a fairly simplistic computer system that operated off a record and slide. Math and reading questions from the slide were illuminated onto a small display with five physical buttons beneath it to choose from. After the student chose an answer, the record would then play the appropriate response and the slide would move to the next question.
I remember stretching my arms backward while sitting at my desk one day, pencil in hand, when I managed to stab the teaching assistant. Until this very day, I feel as though it was an accident, but they took it very seriously.
During my return to class from a gathering in the gymnasium, I dropped the center piece of a class project I was asked to carry, and it scattered outward into the field. I quickly raced to retrieve the shattered pieces of the project before the wind carried them away. But it appeared to be a losing battle. I could not hold onto everything. As I entered the field, I was taken by surprise as a group of students jumped down from atop the playground equipment and proceeded to punch and kick me until I fell to the ground. I was unable to fight back. I instead curled desperately into a ball. Eventually, the students grew tired of their attack and dispersed. I mustered the strength to stand and then walked back to class, empty handed. I was very much confused by the incident.
My local shopping mall used to be fully enclosed with a wide array of shops. Every few months, my mother would take me to the hair salon inside the mall. It was known as The Madd Hatter. A possible reference to Alice in Wonderland. After my haircut, we often walked around the shopping mall. The food court had a place that sold ICEE drinks. It was always my first stop after a haircut. ICEE was my favorite beverage at the time. In the very back of the food court, a video arcade could be found. It offered many then current hits, as well as a few classics like Pac-Man and Ms. Pac-Man.
Pizza Hut used to have a relatively dark aesthetic. Dimly lit interiors with stained wood panels and retro arcade cabinets from the late 1970s to early 1980s. It was a Nolan Bushnell fever dream. One of those arcade cabinets was none other than Pac-Man.
Fridays were always the day in which dad and I went to the video rental store down the street from our house. Dad would rent a VHS movie that we would watch over the weekend. I would naturally spend most of my time in the kids section. I looked around for some Atari 2600 games on occasion, but they were more than likely all phased out. In their place were games for a console that I could not even begin to spell at the time. It began with the letter N.
