15 Years Old

Dear The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time,

Whoa, Jesus, man! Seriously?! I mean, forgive the lack of clarity to such outbursts and rest assured they shall be clarified soon enough, but seriously, are you for reallies?!

Anyway, it's nice that you've dominated a solid week and a half of my time and filled it with so much joy, wonder, frustration and surprise. I must say, however, that the truth is I really don't know how to feel about you. You see, I have this blog, right. I set it up with the intention of keeping me writing so that I wouldn't lose my mojo and that, which - as an aspiring writer - is an extremely important thing to have, dangerous thing to lose and horrifically difficult to get back. To put it in terms you might understand, imagine your first ever meeting with Volvagia except you've just had the big-ass hammer knocked into the lava and all you have to destroy the flamin' dragon is a Deku Stick.

It's now been almost a month since I last put something on that blog, which is monumentally awful considering my intention to keep at it on a weekly basis. Naturally, as with trying to sell banal masks to people with nothing better to do, more important aspects of life get in the way and subsequently take over all of your time, meaning the little things get put on hold. Since I last posted, I've been employed in a retail establishment, spent time away with family and played with you. Somewhere along the way, that whole notion of me wanting to write turned into me not wanting to write, which then turned into me not wanting to do anything at all. Even getting up before midday is a chore. I suppose I could blame my working shift pattern; I generally only work in the evenings meaning that by the time I get home and want to put my feet up and stare at the TV, the only thing that's on is a repeat of Family Guy or three, or twelve.

My time away on Britain's south coast produced a multitude of thoughts. Thoughts like: "Wouldn't it be nice to live in one of those apartment blocks overlooking the beach?", "Did we really just pay that entrance fee for a walk around an underground cave?", and the realisation that as much as I love my immediate family members and enjoy the rare amounts of time I now spend with them, it's uncanny how quickly everyone is able to fall into the old routine of "yelling at each other for no reason". Several factors managed to raise tensions between the family unit on holiday: the staying quarters (a crowded static caravan in amongst other crowded static caravans), disagreements over what attractions to see/places to eat, Monopoly. All in all though, a fun time was had by everyone, but I'd like to end this segment by informing you that if you think crossing from one side of Hyrule Field to the other takes a long time, clearly you've never attempted the M25 on a Bank Holiday weekend.

I had my first day working in Morri-Tesc-Asd-bury's (I'm not telling you where I am, just pick your favourite one) mere days before the family vacation and exactly a week after I last touch my blog. Going back into the workplace a week and a half later, therefore, proved fairly daunting. It was like waking up one morning and suddenly being thrust into the dank and dark, monster filled interior of a giant tree. I've started to ease myself into the place, but like most working humans, I look forward to returning home again. Which bring me to you, dear game.

The sheer fact that you actually exist is nothing short of marvellous. Your vastness and depth (which is really just another word for "vastness", but you know, struggling to get back into writing here) is grand, you've got mini-games coming out the wazoo, if I were to place your chronological origin in history, I wouldn't want to go any further back than 2005. Yet as I understand it, you've been around since 1998. You're 15 years old. Christ, I've met fully grown adults more dense and moronic than you. As a piece of technology from the '90s, you actually hold up well in today's world, and for that I am eternally surprised by you. I must say I had my doubts. After all, so many have hailed you as one of, if not, THE greatest video game of all time. Now that I've experienced you, I feel as though I can jump into that forum and throw my own opinion in there now too.

Labelling something as THE greatest of those somethings, to me, seems a bit obtuse. It's all relative really. You're an action/adventure/RPGish amalgamation, sort of like a child-friendly, cartoony version of Tomb Raider (the old ones, not that new one that's like an episode of Lost as written by a serial killer). There's not a lot else in the world like you to compare to. And if we're judging you on a technical aspect, there have been newer releases since 1998 that have accomplished more that your Deku Nut-sized brain probably ever could. But the way in which I shall judge you is that for the time you were created, you were unrivalled. I realise that for the many who played with you in your earliest days, that memory cannot be overwritten. However, I can only look at you with my own eyes and say you're probably not THE greatest game ever, but you are pretty damn good for an audience today. And if you're pretty damn good today, it's no wonder people worshipped you a decade and a half ago.

I must admit to you, though, I've only played through your recent 3D remake (only using the 3D function for cutscenes, mind), allowing me the use of a touchscreen to switch items at a moment's notice. I feel that in order to get the full authentic experience of you, I'd need to see you in your original, unaltered form and become aggravated whenever I need to switch boots inside the Water Temple without a simple touchscreen tap to do it in an instant.

So well done to you Ocarina of Time. You've managed to provoke a reaction from me, which I suppose is all that's needed to prove that you are worthy of discussion. You've managed to further distance me from the prospect of writing whilst distracting me from the more boring, workaday parts of my life. However, that strange combination of wonder and marvel at how something so complex could've come from a time that (now in relative terms) feels so primitive, has actually giving something to write about. Thanks Ocarina, and I vow to play with you again at some point. But not straight away. Jesus. Asking me if want to play the harder, mirror-world Master Quest version the moment I just finished, are you friggin' crazy? I wanted a brew straight afterwards, not to relive it all in backwards mode!

Yours tunefully,
Me.

P.S. I still find Fi more irritating that Navi, but I suppose that's an issue I'll take up with Skyward Sword next time we speak.