Today I sat down to the original Legend of Zelda. I have been working on it for a few days now and I finally beat it. I love that game, I love how it makes me feel. I walk around with my magical sword, found in the grave of some weary soul, and I fight only when I have to... which ends up being quite a bit.

I run through the forests and deserts and mountainous landscapes as my children ask me if those things are popcorn. Popcorn? No those are boulders. Boulders that look an awful lot like popcorn.

I enter a dungeon and my 5 year old asks me what that thing is that keeps poking out of my body. A sword, I tell her. And she looks baffled as she walks away.

I let myself return to the time when a pixel flying in my direction at what seems to be a snail's pace to anyone watching, but a rocket's pace if you are staring it down. I return to a time when I could tell that a group of cubes are a turtle, a crab, a Gannon. I fall into nostalgia, slipping from the sleep induced by the strict reality of life.

I remember when my lemon circle with slice removed, then not removed, then removed again would eat tiny squares leading to a large squarish circle. The large squarish circle would make my lemon circle the most feared element on the board for a matter of moments.

I remember my dad playing the Atari knock off with me when I had pneumonia as a child. I remember the tanks, little squares with rectangles protruding from them, shooting small squares, trying not to hit the unmoving larger squares of a neutral color but instead to hit the other little square with the rectangle protruding from them.

This may seem strange, but I love what it does for me when I let myself slip into nostalgia. When I look at my Transformers, when I play my old games, when I think about my childhood and realize how great it was. I love what that does for me. I am Peter Pan and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Btw, sorry to all of you non game-geeks out there. I bet that was confusing