Old, recognized and enduring interest, importance or quality: classic. That is the definition of vintage. As a child of the 90’s, the word triggers an instant rush of nostalgia. The Chicago Bulls, Dunkaroos & long nights at my white friend’s house playing Goldeneye 007 on the N64.
There was nothing like going to a sleepover at my white friend’s house. This man had a basketball goal, a go kart, a trampoline, a pool with a hot tub attached but still, our favorite place to be… was The Basement. It used to go down in The Basement. There was a refrigerator stocked full of sodas and it was free reign on them. A set of bunk beds and a futon were what we slept on during sleepovers, but the reason we were in the basement in the first place was the Nintendo 64.
In 1998, pro wrestling was dominating our elementary school conversations. That year, WCW/NWO Revenge dropped on the N64. We had already been spending hella nights, up late playing Goldeneye all summer and now… we had a wrestling game. I spent hours of my adolescence at that house and in that basement. I probably would have anyway. I can’t help but feel like the amount of time I wanted spend there was, because of my friend of course, but mainly, the Nintendo 64. Ultimately, me being there led to more fun times and great childhood memories than I could share in one post. I never had a N64 at my crib, but I always wanted one.
Fast forward to 2020. Everything is different. Actually, that’s an understatement. Everything is much shittier than I remember, I mean, even for America this is bad. So I bought a Nintendo 64 last week. As a kid, I would’ve thought we’d have flying cars and vacations to Mars in 2020. For sure, I would have thought the new era gaming systems would make me forget about those N64 days. Yet, here I am, on a Saturday Night in 2020 playing Mario Party 2 with the homies. Social distancing, smoking personal joints and recognizing our enduring interest for quality, vintage shit.