NES Satellite: 1HN Wireless Non-Necessity

Pop quiz: Was it possible for four players to play one game at the same time on the NES?

The answer: It depends on if you owned the NES Satellite (and if you owned a compatible game).

The Satellite was a wireless peripheral that was released for the NES in 1989. It allowed for both wireless play and for up to four players to play an NES game. All you needed was a boatload of C batteries, up to four NES controllers, and a game that accommodated four players and you were set. Or, if you wanted to play a non-four-player game alone wirelessly, you could do that, too.

Most of this information can be gained from Wikipedia or with a cursory Internet search, so I will share my personal experience with the Satellite. Now, the funny thing about my owning the Satellite was that I was an only child. Of course, I'm STILL an only child, but I often dreamed of having three buddies over to play NES. Outside of one or two occasions, this didn't happen. Also, because my NES and TV were, like, six feet from my bedroom wall and door, playing wirelessly was never really that beneficial.

So, why did I ask for the Satellite for Christmas one year? Because it was cool and, yes, I did dream of a day when I would have a bunch of friends over to play NES Play Action Football or Kings of the Beach. I remember one time when I did have some neighborhood kids over and we played Kings of the Beach, which is a two-on-two beach volleyball simulation. I don't remember how the game went (except that everybody besides me played terribly, mostly because I was the only one with any experience with the game), but I recall the elation of plugging in extra controllers into the third- and fourth-player ports of the Satellite. I think there was also another time when Ed and Tim were over and we played NES Play Action Football... Maybe.

Anyway, the Satellite was pointless for me to own, but was reflective of that childhood desire to play games with other people. This feeling wasn't confined to video games as I was a semi-avid collector of board games. Sadly, as with video games, I rarely had opponents against whom I could play. Ironically, when I did have a friend over, I rarely played the board games because I hated losing. How sad!

In retrospect, if I had made it more of a point to challenge people, I would have played more board games, as well as used the Satellite more often. Nowadays, I have my sons (and my wife, if she's in a gaming mood) against whom I can play games. I don't mind losing to them; and, I've gotten over the hang-up of losing to anyone because I have embraced the mere joy of understanding the dynamics of any game and engaging in the finer points of gameplay. By this, I am much more willing to play games. If I ever get my NES Control Deck working, maybe I'll bring out the Satellite. Unlike my only child days, I have three opponents in my own home.

Comic Book Stores: 1HN Nerddom Fellowship

In the early 90s when I was in the latter days of high school (and even my first couple of years at UCLA), I was an avid comic book collector. I didn't collect EVERYTHING as I didn't have that much money to blow on comics, but I collected a lot of X-titles, such as Uncanny X-Men, X-Men, X-Factor, X-Force, and Excalibur (the British mutant superhero team). You may recognize some of these titles, especially if you are a fan of the X-Men films (Bryan Singer directed the first two; Brett Ratner directed the sub-par third one). I also collected a lot of titles from Image Comics, which was (at the time) an up-and-coming comics studio that boasted a stable of ex-Marvel superstar artists who had their own stories to draw and tell. My dalliance with Image notwithstanding, I was a Marvel homeboy as I expanded into Incredible Hulk and Amazing Spider-Man. However, as artists and writers changed and inferior storylines infected my once-beloved titles (Scott Lobdell, I'm looking at you... how could you ruin Excalibur in the span of three issues?!), I lost interest in comic books until I eventually gave up the hobby for good.

So, why am I writing about comic books? Well, I was driving to work today and my thoughts began to drift wistfully to those days of excitement when I awaited every Friday eagerly. In high school, I used to save my part-time job money for Fridays when the local Comic World would stock their shelves with the newest titles for that week. Sometimes, I would buy one or two comic books with bag boards, which were absolutely necessary for preserving comic books (they were collectible items, you know), but on certain weeks a flood of X-titles would come out and I would clean up... Anyway, what struck me this morning was that comic book stores are harder to find. In my hometown, I knew of two comic book stores (one of which was right down the street from my high school), and I knew of four others in neighboring towns. Now, there are no comic book stores in my hometown, and those four others outside my hometown are (as far as I know) gone.

What contributed to this turn of events? Obviously, the advent of online shopping has killed many comic book stores (and the video store... and the record store... and the big-box electronics store... okay, not yet, but Best Buy is going the way of Circuit City), but I also think that the advent of high-quality films based on comic books (ironically produced by Marvel and DC Comics) has largely rendered comic books and the stores that sell them an afterthought. Oh, and when Marvel and DC pulled artists and writers from titles, those titles became shadows of themselves (why did you let Alan Davis go from Excalibur, Marvel?!). But, I would also contend that the flooding of the market with titles and companies in the early 90s contributed to the downfall of comics and, consequently, comic book stores. Back then, there was Marvel and DC, but then came Dark Horse, Valiant, and Image; titles entered the market at breakneck pace; and the "Issue Zero" trend also came into effect, in which every title seemed to have a prequel issue (I'm talking about you, Valiant!). There were so many choices, so many companies, and so many pencilers, inkers, colorists, and letterers out there putting out mediocre to amazing work. How much could one really collect?!

I'm not a comic book historian, but there seemed to be a point in the 90s when comics declined. For a long time, they were collectors' items, but because of the flooding into the market new comics rarely gained value, and often lost value relative to their cover prices. People seemed to care less about buying comics, but cared more about movies. First, Marvel had Blade, then X-Men, and then Spider-Man movies; DC, of course, had Batman movies going, but the Batman Begins film saw the character reaching a wider audience than even the Tim Burton films did (though some may contend this). And, because of the availability of information and images via the Internet, no one needed to buy comics to follow the story lines; they could just read about how each title was going online.

Okay, so where am I going with this? I must admit that I don't miss comic books, per se. My nostalgic feelings stem more from missing the excitement of Friday: that feeling of buying the latest issue of X-Men; wondering what was going to happen in that issue; beholding the Jim Lee artwork; gingerly turning each page, and then carefully placing the issue into a secure bag board. I miss going to Comic World with Ed and Tim to check out what was on the shelves, and I even miss going to the comic book store near UCLA's campus in Westwood with all the colors and the smell of newly-minted comics. But, what I miss most are the odd, nerdy characters I would encounter in those comic book stores and the conversations we would have about the first appearance of Carnage or which comic was really Cable's first appearance (I think it was in a cameo in New Mutants #86, right?). For a time, comic book stores were the nexus of nerddom and esoteric comic-centric discussions where one felt like one belonged and wasn't rejected because one loved school, D&D, Star Trek, Star Wars, or Warhammer. Now, Facebook, blogs, and forums have replaced comic book stores for such talk, and Wikipedia has become a reliable source of comic book information.

I guess I miss all of that, but not enough to start collecting comics again. Interestingly, I have a place where I am accepted and can have all the oddball discussions I want, and you wouldn't suspect it: my church.