Showing posts with label make-believe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label make-believe. Show all posts

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Ninja Assassin

2001, Age 19

My undergraduate college campus was extremely small, and it was inevitable to spot someone you knew when walking from one place to another. In this game, two or more of us would follow another person, hiding behind trees and doing ninja dives into bushes to not be noticed. The trick is, the other person didn't know they were playing the game. The game, in fact, was to see how long it took the person to noticed they were being followed by a band of amateur ninjas. Being in the know when someone else is not can be delightful, especially in silly situations.

Haunted Woods

1994, Age 12

By this age, my friends and I were well familiar with the ins and outs of the local woods, and thought it would be a fantastic idea to create a "haunted woods" to lead the younger neighborhood kids through around Halloween. We had a tour guide and a carefully plotted route through the woods, and spent days preparing the path and setting up scary scenarios. The only thing more fun than being totally immersed in an experience is contributing to someone else's total immersion!

Nugget News

1994, Age 12

In the 5th grade, my neighborhood friends and I decided to start our own newspaper. We set out among our respective school friends to collect ridiculous stories, silly drawings, and other such features (horiscopes! Seek and find puzzles!).

We then set to work compiling, printing, and binding copies of our newspaper to distribute among said school friends.

It was fun to put everyone's creative work into print form, but it was more fun to provide a connection among our remote friends who did not know one another, especially since this was before the internet became popular.

Lost Woods Magic Shop

1993, Age 11

The setting of this game was taken from the Zelda for the SNES. I was that aardvark kid who sold bombs in the Dark World, and she was one of those pickle things that zapped you when you hit them. We decided to set up a venue for competition for the Magic Shop on the other side of Hyrule, and created a shop of our own in the Lost Woods (my friend's basement).

We constructed the biggest, most elaborate sheet-and-couch-cushion architectural structure of my childhood career. Hands-on creation of "buildings" is fun in and of itself, but never so much fun as a solid context.

Goblin Game

1993, Age 11

In this game, my friend and I would put on our goblin costumes (from the most ghetto performance of The Hobbit ever, ask me about it sometime). We would "kidnap" another friend and hide her somewhere. One of us would stay with her in case she tried to escape, whiles't the other would scurry off to distract the hero (usually my brother).

Another example of costumes making it tons easier to suspend disbelief. Having three roles in the game, instead of just two, added a lot of thrill to the game. It had the competitive/cooperative aspect of a regular team game, but each team had entirely different methods and goals, so it made the experience quite interesting.

Wolves

1992, Age 10

Being forced to move out of my old neighborhood did have its advantages. My new neighborhood had woods! I'd always wanted woods! My friend and I would frequently play wolves, which incorporated not only the woods, but the entire neighborhood. We would do the typical wolf things...like build dams in the creek (what?) and running and hiding from hyenas (the annoying boys one block over), but the game was made by having a true environment in which to play

Ants

1991, Age 9

The nice thing about construction sites are the large piles of dirt they leave scattered about for the climbing. Playing ants, I think, was really all about digging your hands into the earth and getting covered in dirt. I'm not sure one can replicate the tactile benefits of clamboring about on huge piles of dirt in a way that is socially acceptable for adults.

Restaurant

1991, Age 9

My best friend in the new neighborhood had a huge collection of fake food. Little plastic eggs and meats and meals and tiny dishware. We would play elaborate games of restaurant, where we could take turns being the cook and the customer. There was a challenge and fascination in creating "meals" that were believable.

Abandoned House Game

1990, Age 8

I lived behind an airport, and they decided to expand and kick us all our of our homes, thus there was a period of time when people started moving out where our neighborhood was full of abandoned houses. What a perfect exploring opportunity!

We would be adventurers, and select a location for our home base (often a shed or garage we broke into), then set out and break into the houses to explore and gather supplies. We were very sneaky in order to avoid our imaginary pursuers.

Being the smallest, I had a very important job. The others would bust out a window, and I would have to carefully reach through the sharded glass to unlock the window or door.

The best part of this game? Um, immersion? Hello? What was more exciting than actually exploring actual new spaces! The imaginary monsters that lived within were merely a bonus.

Guerilla Warfare Barbie

1990, Age 8

Everyone goes through a phase in their childhood where they blow stuff up with fireworks, right? Right?!?! I'm not sure if this was a game so much as a very scientific study comparing the durability of Barbie dolls to that of the average G.I. Joe. My friends and I conducted a series of tests with bottle rockets and Roman candles. Barbie didn't have a chance. I believe we all knew this from the beginning, but there is a certain human fascination with destruction that drove us forward.

Space Cow

1990, Age 8

For a brief period of time, my entire third grade class (there were 14 of us) would play Star Trek at recess. I didn't watch Star Trek at the time, so I made up a new character to fit in the theme…the elusive talking Space Cow. Dr. McCoy was intent on catching me and turning me into a normal earth cow. The scenario would usually go like this... (Becky, aka McCoy, would capture me and zap with with some kind of device. She and her staff would lean in and listen carefully)
Me: "Moooooo........."
McCoy: "The operation was a success!"
Me: "Hooray! A successful operation!"
McCoy: "Nooooooooo!!"
Me: "Bwahahahaha!" (at which point I would flee in triumph). There were two things I loved about this game: 1) Fitting in the world, but still being just a bit off in terms of character and 2) Thinking myself very, very clever.

Spy

1989, Age 7

The moment we figured out how to make a periscope out of cardboard and mirrors, the natural progression of play was of course to spy on the neighbors. Our neighborhood setting was equipped with perfectly tall privacy fences to peer over, and plenty of secret routes in and out of various backyards. Feeling sneaky is empowering.

Ghostbusters

1989, Age 7

My brother and I, and our best friends, would occasionally hunt for ghosts using high-tech detection gadgetry (made out of batteries and duct tape). It was serious business. I recall becoming so caught up in the fantasy of the game that we eventually scared ourselves too badly to continue playing.

The interesting thing was that, compared to my other pretend games, the fantasy was relatively mundane. It took place in the here and now and the setting was our neighborhood, and we were even hunting something that couldn't be seen. If fantasy settings had an uncanny valley, I suppose we were right on the brink.

Ceiling Walking Game

1988, Age 6

Every year for Christmas I would ask for suction cup shoes, so I could walk on the ceiling (I had a real problem with that whole fantasy/reality line). In order to train myself, I would walk around holding a mirror just under my chin, and looking down, pretending that I was actually looking at the floor.

My favorite thing about this game, I think, was how it turned ordinary spaces into extraordinary exploratory opportunities. It did require massive suspension of disbelief on the part of the player, so many of my friends had difficulties finding this game fun. Not for me, I still think about it from time to time (I think the ceiling of Schell Games, when you just come off the elevator, would be really fun to walk on).

Live Q-bert

1988, Age 6

One year my parents got new carpet, and for awhile the old carpet was rolled up and setting out on our patio in stacks. My brother and I (and our best friends) found this a perfect setting in which to play pretend Q-bert. I'm pretty sure I never actually played the game Q-bert, but I was somehow familiar with it, at least enough to provide context for jumping up and down between levels of our "pyramid." I always enjoyed finding ways to transfer game settings into real life (unfortunately, my reality/fantasy line problem convinced me that all the fictional powers should come along with this, so I was often disappointed when I couldn't sproing great distances simply because we had a play Q-bert board).

Legos

1988, Age 6

Ah, legos were such a huge part of life for my brother and me. We had a big table in the basement on which we devised our city (mostly space legos, but some castle and pirate ones too). I think the significant thing about legos was the 2-part game: first the building phase, then the play-pretend phase. They balanced each other out nicely, and in fact, we would occasionally have Godzilla stomp through lego city, so that we would be required to do repairs.

Captain Power

1988, Age 6

Captain Power and the Soldiers of the Future was a huge deal for my brother and I, and our best friends (who were also brother and sister). We had the toys and we shot at the TV show, but that was not enough, we had to go on our own adventures.

We never argued about who was who, because everyone seemed to innately know their place and latch to a single character. My brother's friend, who was the oldest, was naturally Captain Power. My brother, who was the smartest, was always Hawk. My friend, who was the girl, was always the girl character.

And I, the smallest of the bunch, was always Tank, the genetically engineered ground assault unit who was apt to break through walls. Oh how I loved role reversals!

Little Red Riding Hood

1987, Age 5

I was always the wolf. I'd re-enact my favorite scene, usually making my grandmother be Little Red, and when it came down to "What big teeth you have!" I'd switch it up and say "to eat up that basket of goodies with!" (haha! I found myself very clever, at 5 years old). I remember always getting frustrated because Little Red would still shriek and run away, and I'd be like "no no! I just want the goodies! Don't run!" My grandma never seemed to get it. I think the idea of switching from the norm of the story, and perceived cleverness, really made this game for me. Now, how can I find a way to make a player feel astoundingly clever...

Sparkling Cloud & Doo Doo Devil

1987, Age 5

This was a game my brother and I played on roller skates. I had found some transparent, gauzy piece of sparkly fabric that I considered quite cloud-like, and thus put it on and deemed myself Sparkling Cloud. My brother made his own character, and we went on grand ethereal adventures on our skates, for celestial beings must travel very swiftly, yes? The key of this game was the speed involved; playing on foot would not have sufficed.

Leopard Game

1987, Age 5

I had a leopard costume leftover Halloween that I wore all the time. The back yard was the savannah, the house was the forest, the basement was the cave, and I ruled the lot! Having a costume makes it that much easier to suspend one's disbelief.