On Sunday we won an auction on E-Bay for a Nintendo 64. It was a thrilling battle against unknown assailants to secure a piece of 1990s video gaming history for our house. We confidently envisaged hours of playing Mario 64, and arguing over “who’s turn it is next”. Following a nail biting exchange of last second bids we snatched the games console from the grasp of some unknown (but probably less worthy) retro gaming nutcase, having bid the same amount as them with 5 seconds to go - but we got the bid down first.
After a mind-sapping day spent fighting with virtual machines, programming, and attempts to explain and promote the ideology of “tagging” to consultants and salesman, I had pretty much had enough when I got in this evening. As I stripped off my bike helmet, rucksack, and waterproofs, W excitedly informed me that “a present arrived for you today”.
My brain went into search mode, and after an agonizing pause while stood on one leg, soggy shoe in hand, it managed to remember last weekend and the Nintendo 64.
The next few minutes would probably remind you of Christmas as a small child. The lounge dissolved into a blur of tearing sounds, balls of newspaper, and excited sounds as I unpacked “Mario 64”, “Wave Race 64”, “James Bond : Golden Eye”, and “Banjo Kazooee”. Then i noticed something disastrous…
While I had the power brick for the N64, ending with a wire and a plug, I did not have the wire that connects the console to the power brick - which inevitably has custom made ends that only fit that particular console.
I would like to say at this point that I started crying uncontrollably, and it took W ten minutes to get out of me what was wrong, but being an adult now I held myself together. I slumped my shoulders, ranted something incoherent about how crap the world was, and stomped off to make a cup of tea.
I’m still annoyed as I type this. So near and yet so far. I have a Nintendo 64. I have games for it. I have controllers for it. I even have the damn transformer for it - but I don’t have a silly little wire that plugs into the back of it. My grief is probably misplaced, and is causing you to smile from ear to ear. You’re probably amused that a grown man can get so worked up that his new toy doesn’t work.
You would be right on all counts.
I’ve had a crappy couple of days, and dammit - I just want something to go my way. Even if it is a tin pot games console that I bought second hand off some “missing part” dealer in the back of beyond somewhere.