The Adventure

Live Your Story, Explore Your World

8-bit Glory Days

Once upon a time there was this magical place in history.  People called it “the Eighties.”  What made it magical you ask?  Colors were bright, hair was big, and games were 8-bit.

At the time, I didn’t know that I was living in what would become the golden age of videogames.  I don’t think any of us knew, it just sort of happened around us.  Here’s a trip back to that plaid couch in my basement; stomping on Goomba’s, drawing out maps, and eating pizza rolls all while listening to the wonderful bleeps and bloops of chiptune music.

It was a simpler time.

Controller Perfection.

I know I risk sounding like the old codger here who “gamed uphill both ways barefoot in 5 feet of snow,” but I still think simple, linear games on the Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) were superior.  You had a clear purpose (that generally involved running from left to right), and limited attempts to accomplish that purpose.  The message that the games were sending was clear.  Either adapt and improve, or die trying.  No fluff, just your skill, two buttons, and a D-pad.  Which brings me to my next point…


Time & Life in Tension

Time marches on without feeling or pause
Steadily bringing about a changing of the guard.
Greens turn brown, and trees become naked
All is cold and barren but not forgotten.

For Life marches on, just under the surface
Without care or worry of what happens above.
Waiting and growing, for it’s time is near
To rise again and color the Earth
Signifying a season of rebirth.

On and on it goes, you see
Time and Life have a sense of irony.
Beholden to each other
Yet in constant struggle
Until they learn to march hand in hand.

One of These Days

This was written by my wife Casey for our little Cillian.  I thought it was poignant, and wanted to share it with you. ~Cole

Mom and Baby

One of these days, probably sooner rather than later,
I’m not going to be able to nurse you to sleep anymore.

And you’re going to stop falling asleep on my shoulder, grasping onto my shirt and holding me as if I’m your whole world.

At some point, the one am, three am, and five am snuggle times will cease.

One of these days you’ll stop laughing and flashing that big grin of mine (with my one random dimple) at me when I make funny faces and noises.

One of these days it won’t be like this anymore,
so I’m going to be thankful, now, for every moment that it is.