My proudest gaming moment?
For this, I harken back to some of my earliest childhood memories. The year is 1983 – a time when my dad and I would often play video games together (and in my youth, I was blissfully unaware of the “crash” that was taking place in the video game industry). As I peruse a catalog of Intellivison games and reminisce, I recall with clarity over sixty games that we played together on that venerable console. Enthralled as I was with those magical little programs, they represented but a pale shadow of the world to which I was about to be introduced.
Enter the Commodore 64: arguably the US market’s first “home computer for the masses”, and my first taste of a most divine, digital delicacy. I was absolutely fascinated with that computer – the mysteries of its hardware, the cryptic commands typed into a blinking cursor, and a platform that supported a genre of game, previously unknown to me, which would absolutely take hold of my imagination: the CRPG. Of course, in my youthful innocence, I had no idea what a “CRPG” was. I knew only a name; a name that would set my imagination aflame: Telengard!
For those who do not know, Telengard is an early example of a randomized dungeon-crawler, with its roots in the classic DND mainframe game. Once I had experienced Telengard, it became my obsession, a game that I fervently needed to play. I couldn’t get enough of its vast labyrinth containing predatory creatures, glittering treasures, curious (and hazardous) objects, and that oh-so-frequent interloper, death. Death came for me frequently, in many guises, but I was undaunted. With every (not-so-mighty) character’s demise, my knowledge grew – and knowledge was my ultimate power. I became fixated with advancing my characters to at least level 6, where they gained the awesome ability to cast Lightning Bolt! This was my favorite spell, as it lit up the whole screen in a bright flash of white light – especially bright in the middle of the night. Which was my favorite time to play.
You see, I couldn’t possibly get enough of Telengard during the day. This was a single-player game, running on my dad’s computer, and he alone decided when it was time to boot it up (even worse, the version of Telegard he owned came on a cassette tape – a common storage medium at the time – and it took a mind-boggling 25 MINUTES to merely load the game into the Commodore’s 64K of RAM). After I learned the basics of the game, he and I would take turns playing, making as much progress as we could before we inevitably perished (like being unceremoniously murdered by demons who possess a nasty whip fetish). Naturally, there would be limits to my playtime, and I was left wanting more. But carefully, I watched, and quickly, I learned. And once all the other members of my family drifted off to sleep for the night, the Commodore 64 was conspicuously left unguarded in the living room. It called to me like a siren’s song to a sailor.
Quiet as a mouse, I slipped out of my bed, sneaking through darkened rooms. I managed to get everything set up using only the dim light of the monitor; prepared all the while to instantly power it off at even the slightest hint of noise coming from my parent’s bedroom. Grimly determined, I typed the arcane commands needed to load the game. Then, for nearly a half-hour, I waited anxiously, held in a state of suspended animation, agonizing over my fear of being caught, but unable to resist the desire to explore that virtual world. Finally, the title screen loaded into being, and Telengard was all mine! Though I had muted the game’s sound, in my mind I could still hear the foreboding tones of Telegard’s title screen music. That gloomy song, promising doom, shall forever be emblazoned into my memory. I played Telengard all through the night, not bothering to stop for such mundane things as food or rest. It was glorious.
But my biggest revelation? That came when I finally puzzled-out how to successfully SAVE & LOAD my characters from that blasted Commodore 1530 Datasette. Finally, I was in possession of the power of resurrection, like a demi-god cast down from dungeon-crawler heaven! Furthermore, it meant no more losing my hard-earned Ring of Regeneration +24, just because the sun was rising in the East. The coming of dawn that heralded the end of my clandestine adventures.
I cannot recall how many sleepless nights I spent delving into the bowels of that hellish dungeon. But how could I sleep, when the clarion call of adventure had taken hold of my mind? Even so, on those nights I stayed-up until daybreak playing Telengard, I still went to school the next day. I don’t remember suffering any ill effects from this behavior; unless you count wistful daydreaming of slaying monsters and snarfing vast piles of treasure. Ah, to be possessed again with the boundless energy of youth!
Fortunately, as far as I am aware, I was never discovered. I had been extremely careful to leave no trace of my midnight operations – everything I touched was put back precisely the way I had found it. It was necessary to observe perfect attention to every detail: the computer desk had a glass door that I wiped down for fingerprints. The C64 and its peripherals had leather covers that needed to be put back on, just so. Finally, even the dust covers themselves, and the surrounding desktop, had to be cleansed of any dusty residue, to mask any hint of disturbance. To understand this, you must realize it was a great transgression to touch my father’s things, and I did everything I could to avoid incurring his wrath. For my father’s anger was fearful to behold, and sadly, I had not yet learned how to cast a “Charm” spell in real life.
To this very day, I am still trying to figure out how to cast that damn spell!