Only twice in 49 Christmases have I craved the toy/gift of the holiday season. The first I’ve written about in this space: 1988, the year Mom and Dad surprised us with a Nintendo after we thought we opened all the presents.
The second came nearly 30 years later when, at age 40, I asked my wife for the gift just about every boy growing up in the 1980s wanted: the NES Classic, a bite-sized gaming console loaded with 30 vintage games.
I knew the odds were long that year (2016). The demand for the Classic was flat-out insane, and the company produced a small quantity of the system. Some argue that the shortage was an intentional marketing ploy. Others say Nintendo was simply incompetent.
Though excited when Nintendo announced in July that the console was coming, I also was in the midst of my yearlong battle with Epstein-Barr Virus (EBV). I was far more focused on getting through the day than playing video games.
That changed that fall when I had to take several weeks off from work to rest and stave off EBV. I spent much of my time in bed, catching up on Halloween movies I’d always wanted to see in October and holiday movies in November. When I wasn’t watching those shows or sleeping, I was on the internet, spending way too much time researching the nasty virus I was fighting.
In other words, I had plenty of time to research the NES Classic and see where my wife might find one. I discovered very quickly that I wasn’t going to get the console, a fact the local Best Buy confirmed when they sold out of it five minutes after it opened on launch day.
For about a year, I occasionally searched for the Classic online. A few were available at the low price of $300 (or more), more than five times the retail price. I realized then that the NES Classic wasn’t meant to be.
That changed in 2018. Shana and I were in Kansas City shortly before Christmas to upgrade my phone at a Sprint Store. I patiently listened to an assistant manager as she walked me through the new phone and tried to convince us to buy all the add-ons.
As my new phone was being updated, the small talk centered on Christmas, and she mentioned that she had a son a few years younger than me.
“What did you end up getting him?” I asked.
“Well, I was shopping for him and came across the little video game that I thought he’d like, something Nintendo,” she said.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Do you mean the NES Classic? Where did you find that? They’re non-existent.”
“They had them at Target on Ward Parkway,” she said.
The conversation shifted back to my phone, and the sales pitch continued. I waited not so patiently until my wife chimed in …
“Ma’am, with all do respect, I know my husband … he checked out when you said ‘NES Classic.’ He’s not listening to a word you’re saying right now.”
We all laughed and the saleswoman, who was incredibly kind and patient, finally relented. Within 15 minutes, we were at Target, and I said a silent prayer or five as I hustled to the electronics section that they’d still have it in stock.
To my surprise, they still had two NES Classics. I still have it and play it a handful of times every year, especially over Christmas break. Part of the joy of those marathon gaming sessions is thinking of the smile on my parents’ faces when we unwrapped the original Nintendo in 1988.
“Boy, we got you guys good that year,” Dad said when he told that story.
Yes. Yes, you did, old man.
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