In the mid-1990’s the legacy of Ian Fleming and his James Bond continued to capture the hearts of fans new and old. Many hours since that age of 12 had been occupied in front of the television, watching these James Bond flicks with my father in particular. Sean Connery, as many others may share this opinion, is definitely my most favorite Bond portrayer.
There is nothing like the positive Pavlovian response one has when the Bond theme is played. One will become as excited when hearing the Indiana Jones theme as well. The Star Wars tune is also included in this list. Yes, I am a geek at heart!
However, there is nothing like a good spy movie. There is nothing like an old spy movie, film noir mysteries and predecessors. Many of the spy stories are lost with stressing action sequences and blatant CGI. The film industry didn’t need it back then, and they definitely do not need it now. Movies shouldn’t. Just like the exceeding amount of gore in horror films, taking away from suspense and scare of a horror movie, big explosions and unbelievable action sequences ruin a movie (for me). This is aside the point.
We kids enjoyed ourselves every day of the year. Even though we did not hang out every minute of the day, we did see each other due to proximity. Rich and Steph lived the farthest away, and that walk we had to take to get to their house was much exaggerated back in the day. Unfortunately, their family moved when Steph and I were in fifth grade. We all still keep in touch today, thankfully. But we kids were always running around the neighborhood. Within the past 13 or so years, this type of running around seemed less and less for the other kids. Even my parents were concerned with the quiet neighborhood. We (Dan, Steve, Mike, myself, and several others) would tear up the place… not literally though.
We liked to shoot things. Senseless violence, adventure, excitement, risky behavior–these all enticed us. I’m not going to get into backyard camping since this was written about not too long ago. Actually, now that I’ve like to that post, that was written in July. Wow. Time flies… Anyhow. We ran around with air rifles and battling invisible monsters, but not those that Chuck Palahniuk wrote about (I am so happy to say I can spell his last name without having to look it up anymore, by the way).
However, especially on nice days, our parents would be kicking us out of the house, preventing us from playing video games. My brother and I, courtesy of our parents, did not get us any video game console after Sega Genesis. With the original Nintendo Entertainment System (NES), I had invested a shitload of time into video games, so this lack-there-of consoles was probably for the best. No, not probably; it was definitely for the best. Steve acquired the Nintendo 64, and Dan had the PlayStation. Many hours and cold, snowy winter days were filled with GoldenEye 007, Perfect Dark, Twisted Metal, Jet Moto, and other games for various systems.
We’d play against each other, which worked well because the game allowed four screens. There were a couple rules, but I cannot remember most of them, and the one that can be recalled is: You cannot play as Oddjob. Due to Oddjob’s small stature, he was impossible to kill–for lack of a better term. This gave the player an unfair advantage. The Golden Gun usage was also shunned; one shot kills were nonsense; if we were to have one-shot kills, we would use rockets, grenades, and any of the various mines. Proximity mines were the best… you’d forget where they were placed, including your own.
The first person shooter games would flourish into popularity. Halo currently sits as a favorite of mine, falling into the same category with Wolfenstein and Doom. These sessions of male competition to be the best never got old. In college, when we connected two XBoxes for roommate Halo nights (complete with 40’s, overconfidence, testosterone, and arrogance yielded from the combination of competition and the elixir contained within the 40-ounce bottles), these magic moments from childhood were revisited with the pending adults, who were my roommates.
Ladies, since you have no interest whatsoever in video games–kudos if you do have interest–there is a true love story within the walls of that Blodgett Hall suite, and it played out wonderfully during the 2004-2005 school year. However, this is not the time and place for such lovey-dovey malarky. We’re talking about fake violence.
Paul and I had our Monday Bro Night, which is a fantastic substitute until we revisit our Clark’s Ale House night. Clark’s Ale House, which has been a staple in Syracuse, is reopening to everyone’s pleasure. Back in the day, before it closed in 2010, Paul and I would be joined by our fellow M.O.S.T. employees for our Saturday post-work beer and roast beef. For those who do not know, Clark’s roast beef sandwich cannot be beat. However, Monday night Bro Night will continue despite Clark’s reopening… well, until Paul moves to D.C.
In between How I Met Your Mother and The Blacklist, Paul and I played some GoldenEye 007. It was fantastic. He schooled me, but it was still fun. Trying to adjust to the controls again was a bit of a pain, simply due to the unfamiliarity that developed. However, it was just like riding a bike; by the third round, my self teaching proved successful. I still lost, but throwing down the controller and walking away did not happen. He rightfully beat me. It’s all good. We bantered, shared good craft beer, an enjoyed some Gannon’s Downtown Turnaround. Even though it was only a few hours, it’s always important to hang out with close friends…
I let the fact that he loves Boston Red Sox and New England Patriots slide.
I play with words and invisible objects.
A mind, a pen and a piece paper have the best relationship ever.
"Remember this--if you shut your mouth, you have your choice."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald