Ms. PacMan

Am I really that old?!

On the way from Austin, Texas, to Gunnison, Colorado, we stopped at Monmouth Pass to play in the snow, take a pretty picture and stretch our legs. It's pretty typical for our yearly bus ride to middle school summer camp and only about an hour from Western State College, our final destination.

Opening the doors to the visitors center and gift shop opened up a world of entertainment for our students. Cheap crap from China of all kinds at their finger tips. And junk food. Over-priced, sugar-filled candy, chip flavors that were rejected from gas stations everywhere, hats they would never wear again and jewelry cheaper than the plastic cases that displayed it in all its glory. A small Disney for the 12-year-old still possessing most of the cash Mom and Dad supplied for meals on the way to and from camp.

By passing everything without thought, I made my way to the back in search of a bathroom, and it was there that I saw it. Calling my name, practically glowing, it was just waiting to be loved and appreciated for all its worth. Ms. PacMan. The old school version. Joy stick and all, begging for quarters.

Having left all my earthly belongings on the bus, I was quarter-less, but upon seeing the smile grow bigger on my face, a middle schooler sheepishly handed me a shiny, round token to a trip down memory lane.

Mr. PacMan would have been proud to see how well the Lady was preforming. We ate the tiny little dots on the screen and chomped up the bad guys like it was our job. And for that moment in time, the life of the quarter, it was.

Amazed by my power and talent, quarters started popping up like flowers all around me. With eyes open wide and filled with wonder, these young adolescents were handing me more opportunities to dominate the game.

And I did.

Out of sheer confusion and awe, one young student dared to inquire how and why I was so good at this game.

"I grew up up Atari."

It was the logical, simple and truthful answer. Atari: the video game system of the '80s, and quite possible one of the things that made an incredible decade.

The words that followed my answer, however, were slightly disturbing.

"What's Atari?!"

What is Atari?!

A fellow, helpful middle schooler answered his peer's question.

"Oh, it's this old video game system. My mom told me about it."

And at that exact moment in time, up on top of a mountain, in the cheesy gift store, standing in between the men's and women's restrooms, I realized that compared to these students students born 1994-1997, that I am, in fact, old.