Occasionally I’ll get a random, “Are you going to create a BLAWWWWG post about this?” type of question from friends and family. The answer, whether I voice it or not, is almost always, “No.” That’s not how the process works for me (it’s also hilarious that I’m alluding to some sort of process actually existing). For the first time, however, a friend of mine made a statement that was both funny, sarcastic, and now has caused an entry to be generated.
I find that I typically jump on trains well after they’ve left the station, and I’ve likely mentioned this in other entries, but I’m typically jumping on the train after it’s whizzed by a few times and then I’m jumping on as it’s moving, or sometimes has already come off the tracks. By train I mean whatever “the kids” are into at the time. Examples include things like The Matrix movie(s). I heard they were all the rage and then didn’t really get on board until well after they had “trended”, but also found that I really liked them. This can be said about other “fashionable at the time” things as well, like Justin Bieber (I’m just kidding and I’m also assuming that absolutely no one can stand Justin Bieber, and if you can, check in with your soul).
I think I let gen pop sift through things and then I wait to see which ones really stick in a meaningful way and then decide to invest, or, depending on the nature in which they stick, decide I’m absolutely not going to invest (see Justin Biebs reference in prior sentence).
That being said, given that timelines of everything in the world seem to have gotten shorter (15 minutes of fame has really become like two and a half minutes of fame), I may have jumped on a recent train a bit earlier than usual, but it was going faster (this lead up has now even started to confuse me, sorry but I was searching for some pebble of wisdom somewhere in there). Anyway, I recently was informed by my cool group of college friends (we went to college together, they aren’t in college) of the apparent raging fad Wordle. I Yahooed it (you’re welcome George) and immediately started playing and was hooked. Side note, amazing that we live in a world in which simple word games that haven’t been imagined before are still being imagined, especially because we can’t come up with good ideas for new blockbuster films other than making six sequels or “reimagined” versions.
So, I recently texted that group of friends my latest Wordle result, which I also found out was a meme, or GIF, or some trending thing, and noted that I was now addicted to the game. One of my friends, who is a fella that I’ve known for a long time but didn’t really get to know until recently (thank you pandemic, not kidding, seriously it was thanks to the pandemic and a mutual amazing friend of ours for making that happen) and find him to be awesome, noted that he was sensing a future BLAWWWWG post comparing Wordle to my favorite board game of my youth (he’s clearly an avid reader of my work, thank you very much), to which my first thought was, “No.” However, then I asked myself, “Self, what would be my favorite board game of my youth?” It was a difficult question that didn’t take long to answer. Difficult because immediately thoughts of Monopoly, Chutes and Ladders, Connect Four and Trivial Pursuit came into my head.
I recalled the many great memories I had playing some of those games with family and friends, but then just as quickly the game Dark Tower shot to the forefront and the question was answered.
“What’s Dark Tower?” you say? Well, Dark Tower, as I recall, is a fantastic game of strategy and war in which you must overcome the Wargs (possibly made that name up) to climb to the top of the tower and be victorious! It included a big electronic (yes, electronic and the game was made in 1981 apparently so you can start to see it’s majesty) tower that sat in the middle of the circular game board and you occasionally had to “spin” the tower or something like that (I’m committed to write this portion of the entry by memory) and it would light up an outcome of whatever you were doing in the game in one of the tower’s windows. I know right!!! It was outstanding, and I think maybe the outcome had musical notes play along with it that were either victorious or clearly representative of the doom you had just faced. That about covers my memory of the game, but I’ll let Orson Welles give you his overview…
“So, what’s so great about Dark Tower then?” you say? Well, here’s the thing, Dark Tower was owned by my oldest brother, and pretty much anything my oldest brother had or did was immediately cool, but that doesn’t begin to cover it. My oldest brother lived in a room in our basement for much of my childhood. My Mom had half of the basement refinished to be his bedroom shortly after I, the sixth kid, showed up on the planet and became too “old” to share a room with my sister anymore. My Mom was cool that way, by which I mean doing everything for her kids, like building one of them a kick ass room but I’m going to restrain myself from following that tangent at this particular time, you’re welcome. So why does his room in the basement matter for this memory, because in his room he had our old family kitchen table, which also probably had to be replaced once I showed up (you don’t realize how costly you may have been until you look back) and it is on that table that we would play Dark Tower.
My brother had gotten the game for some cool event I recall. Maybe a graduation or something like that, but probably simply just a birthday that I had then escalated to be some big event because I saw that game and I immediately wanted that game. Also, I should point out that Dark Tower was a colossal fucking thing. I mean the box it came in was massive (note in the picture above it’s easily as big as four to five “regular” size board games) and whoever made the game must have later applied their skills at Apple because the packaging was genius. As I recall, when you opened the box the entire thing was packaged around the Tower being the centerpiece, sitting there looking all ominous and making Orson Welles proud. If you saw that game and didn’t want it, then I would also guess that you are probably a big fan of Justin Bieber.
Being the youngest sibling of six I became an old soul rather quickly, and I was also a genius so that probably contributed to my mature sensibilities. Being an older soul, I loved that “adult” game and wanted to play it as often as I could. On numerous occasions, I recall cautiously walking my little, probably frequently annoying, ass down to my oldest brother’s basement oasis and asking, “Can we play Dark Tower?” That being said, even though I was definitely, probably, maybe not, annoying, I didn’t ask too often because there was a sense of respect for Dark Tower. It was an intense and involved game, and you couldn’t just go around throwing out phrases like, “We should play a quick game of the ol’ Dark Tower” as if it was Connect Four or a round of War (even though having my own kids I’m now realizing that a true full game of War takes a long ass time).
There were a number of times in which my brother would say, “No”, and honestly I can’t remember them distinctly, other than recalling that Dark Tower took a shit ton of batteries (once again, the game was made in 1981) and it was the really big batteries if I recall correctly, at least Cs but I’m fairly certain it was the unsung behemoth of portable electricity the ever elusive D battery, and those things cost a fortune.
We never, I repeat never, had fresh batteries in our childhood home, batteries were like swimming and were definitely for rich people. This is why every member of my family had a free battery of the month card from Radio Shack on their person at all times (yes that was a real thing) and my older brother and I would ensure we got our battery during every visit to the mall as if it was sacramental bread.
So if the massively expensive batteries that fueled Dark Tower were dead, and six months worth of visits to the mall hadn’t yet passed, then we weren’t playing and my brother had an easy out. Not to say my brother was always looking for a reason to say no to me, but if I was seven years old then he was twenty-one, and let’s be honest a twenty-one-year-old is not chomping at the bit to constantly play with a seven-year-old. There were, however, glorious times when he would say, “YES”.
“Still, what’s so great about Dark Tower then, I mean Wordle is sweet?” you say? When the word YES came back it was pure magic. It meant I was allowed entrance into the hallowed basement bedroom, which I recall as always having some dim lights on, some soft background music and the slight waft of some scent that I can’t entirely describe which may have been incense burning but was more likely coolness simmering in the air and to this day if I get a whiff of it (I don’t know where it comes from but probably from me) it is “Essence of my Oldest Brother” and takes me back to his basement realm that was distinct and independent from the rest of the house in so many ways. When I say dim lights it doesn’t come close to capturing the ambiance that existed in that oasis. The lighting, which must’ve been strategically established, created an orange, yellow, red dim haze that would make Oliver Stone realize that the lighting and look he created in The Doors was, well, really shitty in comparison.
In the instances in which I was granted passage, we would then sit down and a combination of us, typically brothers, sisters, or cousins, would play Dark Tower under a comforting and warm hazy coolness. Sometimes games would even include my oldest brother’s friends and I would still be granted entry into this world, and those times were incomparable. I got to see what it was like to be part of a world of cool dudes and chicks and be a fly that is not only on the wall but also playing Dark Tower. They would joke and bust my chops and talk about things that were important, and funny, and ultimately cool while they sipped on Little Kings or other awesome distinctly ’70’s beers.
I would be treated as a relative equal competing in this amazing game of fantasy and warfare that had been a special gift given to, and owned by, my brother, at a table that was invite only. Thinking back on it there was a level of nervousness and exhilaration and, honestly, pure happiness and joy that I otherwise wouldn’t know how to define that existed during those handful of times we played that is both scary and just insanely delightful to look back on. For me, during those times there was nothing else happening in the world other than what was taking place around that table, with Dark Tower ultimately, and unknowingly, holding court in the middle. It was thrilling and fun and a way for me to tap into this “older” world without having to leave my life filled with GI Joes, Star Wars and Legos. It does not hurt that I recall it being an absolutely fantastic game.
So, to my friend that joked at the creation of a diary entry born from a passion of Wordle, you were correct, and are the first to influence an entry by directly suggesting one. Wordle is fun, but ultimately, I’ll take a round of Dark Tower sitting in my brother’s coolness den 24/7/365. Nothing could touch me there, there were no worries, no anxiety related to the 72 other things I needed to be doing, no event I had to get to in the next (insert amount of time that is too short to enjoy the current here), no future to worry about or past to dwell on. Times like this probably made up some of the most “in the moment” moments of my life.
I would give practically anything to be in that basement bedroom again with our old kitchen table crammed into it, sitting amongst my living legends, joking and laughing and taking in the hazy sights and smells of my oldest brother’s world which I was welcomed into without complaint, but rather inclusion. I cannot begin to express the impact of such a thing, and I miss it, and I’m thankful for it, and I Love it and I’m glad to sit here and recall it and live in it again the only way I know how. To my buddy Mike that made a simple comment, thank you for inadvertently reminding me of all of this, the comparison is complete and as I know you would agree, Wordle didn’t stand a chance.
I can’t wait for the next time one of my kids asks me to play a game and I can respond, “Yes, let’s do it right now!”