Make Believe or Reality

Make Believe, or Reality?

By Amy Bryant

“Bang, bang, you’re dead,” as I crooked my five year-old thumb, and aimed my little pointer finger. In the make believe world of my childhood, this was my most dangerous weapon, as I played cowboys and Indians with my next door neighbor and the kids down the street.  It was all imagination.

The Lone Ranger, Roy Rogers and Gene Autrey were voices that we heard on the radio, so we created fantasies in our minds, translated to our made up games.  One lucky girl had a toy pistol, and how we envied her.  Most of us had parents who wouldn’t allow even a toy gun in the home, so we made do with our little thumbs and pointer fingers.

“Pop, pop, pop,” the tiny orange and blue plastic missiles with soft, pink tips come hurling at me. Now, fully grown, I continue to engage in child’s play.  “Don’t forget your goggles, Nana,” as the little one assures my eyes are protected. “Gotcha Nana!,” comes the assailant’s voice from the depths of a cardboard fort.  I duck behind a couch as the next onslaught is hurled my way.  “Ha!  Ya missed me that time,” and I double over in laughter, as I load up with harmless, squishy-tipped ammunition.

“Click, click, click,” and down they fall, the make believe beings; little round heads with only eyes and a mouth.  Or the humanoid creatures, newly hatched from the highly revered geek’s imagination.  I love video games.  They’re a wonderful way to enter the virtual world of my grandchildren, who offer a loving tolerance of my poorly adept mastery of the controls. All in fun and all pretend.

I get why the kids love these games so much. Like them, I sit mesmerized in something closely resembling a hypnotic trance; my muscles taut, as I feel the rush of adrenalin swoosh through my veins. It’s an exhilarating feeling …. it feels good.

“You’re dead!!!! I killed you!  You’re dead, dead, dead!” They pop in a new disc, and without warning the game shifts. Soldiers replace imaginary beings. Clothed in battle fatigues, they run through bunkers and leave a trail of destruction.  The characters look real; the guns, replicas of those on battlefields

My five year old thumb and pointer finger pale by comparison.