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Being my raised by my grandparents was different. They were older than all my friend’s parents, much stricter and the epitome of old school. They had a different parenting style that I didn’t understand until now. Especially mine.
My grandparents adopted me, so I have called my grandmother my mom from day one. She gave up her golden years of retirement to raise me to protect me from foster care, being adopted by complete strangers and being left to wonder who my biological family is. After raising three children already who were well into their adult years, she returned to having sleepless nights, changing diapers and chasing around a toddler. Instead of sleeping in late everyday and doing whatever her heart desired after retiring, she woke up in the wee hours of the morning to get me ready for school every single day. Whether she was sick, tired or just plain sick and tired of me, she put it aside and always put me first. If she had a few extra dollars and wanted to treat herself, she didn’t. She met my needs. During her annual trips to South Carolina with my father (who is my grandfather), even if she wanted to leave me behind she never did. She let me tag along on every vacation. This time in her life was supposed to be all about her, but instead she made it about me and I will be forever grateful.
My mother did what many grandmothers have done and are still doing: sacrificing their later years in life to raise yet another generation. They are not obligated to do so. Their grandchildren are supposed to be visitors. Grandmothers are supposed to offer guidance to their adult children as they embark on their own parenting journey. But many grandmothers have found themselves going another round in motherhood for various reasons. After raising their own children, the goal is to live child-free and care-free days as they take back control of their life and get to redefine the latter years. Grandmothers across the world have forfeited that dream becoming reality to take care of their grands. On this Mother’s Day, the babies who were taken in and raised by their grandmothers want to tell you that we will always honor you. To my mother Doris and the other selfless grandmothers, we celebrate you today and everyday. Thank you.
And to the mothers who saw that they weren’t ready to be a mother and called on their mothers to take the lead, we thank you too. We wouldn’t be who we are if you didn’t.
Source: FatCamera / Getty
Being my raised by my grandparents was different. They were older than all my friend’s parents, much stricter and the epitome of old school. They had a different parenting style that I didn’t understand until now. Especially mine.
My grandparents adopted me, so I have called my grandmother my mom from day one. She gave up her golden years of retirement to raise me to protect me from foster care, being adopted by complete strangers and being left to wonder who my biological family is. After raising three children already who were well into their adult years, she returned to having sleepless nights, changing diapers and chasing around a toddler. Instead of sleeping in late everyday and doing whatever her heart desired after retiring, she woke up in the wee hours of the morning to get me ready for school every single day. Whether she was sick, tired or just plain sick and tired of me, she put it aside and always put me first. If she had a few extra dollars and wanted to treat herself, she didn’t. She met my needs. During her annual trips to South Carolina with my father (who is my grandfather), even if she wanted to leave me behind she never did. She let me tag along on every vacation. This time in her life was supposed to be all about her, but instead she made it about me and I will be forever grateful.
My mother did what many grandmothers have done and are still doing: sacrificing their later years in life to raise yet another generation. They are not obligated to do so. Their grandchildren are supposed to be visitors. Grandmothers are supposed to offer guidance to their adult children as they embark on their own parenting journey. But many grandmothers have found themselves going another round in motherhood for various reasons. After raising their own children, the goal is to live child-free and care-free days as they take back control of their life and get to redefine the latter years. Grandmothers across the world have forfeited that dream becoming reality to take care of their grands. On this Mother’s Day, the babies who were taken in and raised by their grandmothers want to tell you that we will always honor you. To my mother Doris and the other selfless grandmothers, we celebrate you today and everyday. Thank you.
And to the mothers who saw that they weren’t ready to be a mother and called on their mothers to take the lead, we thank you too. We wouldn’t be who we are if you didn’t.
It’s story time folks. So, pull up a seat, turn up the brightness on your computer screen or phone because it’s time we talk about the wild, WILD forgotten gem that is Pac-Man 2: The New Adventures.
When I was a youngling, a ‘90s baby that didn’t have to worry about hitting his 30’s anytime soon, I was a Genesis kid. I loved my Sega system something fierce. Saved up allowances and birthday money to buy games from my local game store, pawnshop, or anywhere else I could get them. One of my favorite games at the time – Ms. Pac-Man.
Ms. Pac-Man is arguably the best old school Pac-Man game that exists. Several stages, all with different layouts so you wouldn’t know what to expect, moving bonus fruit, increasing difficulty. It was just *chef’s kiss*. I think my love for Ms. Pac-Man is what led me to Pac-Man 2. The logic of my young mind must have thought that if Ms. Pac-Man was great, well hell, Pac-Man 2 had to be better.
I was wrong. So wrong.
I won’t call Pac-Man 2 bad. Just unexpected, different, and … it’s fucking weird folks. Pac-Man 2 is one of the strangest games to make up my childhood. It’s probably the greatest hoodwink a game has ever pulled on me. It’s a wild ride and one of those games that’s so strange, so obscure that you find yourself compelled to find out how deep that insane rabbit hole goes.
What is Pac-Man 2?
Tell me, what is the first thing you would expect from a game called Pac-man 2? More intricate and crazy mazes for Pac-man to collect pellets through? New ghosts or powers-up even? Well, you’re wrong, you’re very wrong. You are forgiven if you wrong because I was wrong and I’m sure so many other kids of the ’90s were also wrong. You see Pac-Man 2: The New Adventure is a very odd point-and-click adventure.
Strange, right? Kind of a curve from the previous arcade games. First of all, I never thought about the inner workings of the Pac-man family or their strange cartoonish bodies. I mean, that image of Ms. Pac Man never really made it past the cover art. The only things that ever came to mind were the pellets, mazes, and the pizza-shaped head running away from ghosts. As soon as Pac-Man flew across the screen in a cape with the game’s title right behind him, I should’ve known something was off.
Pac-Man 2 starts with the famed yellow man introducing himself, his world, and telling you how to play. That’s where all the strangeness starts. You don’t actually play as Pac-Man. There are no mazes. Instead, you are just the player…and you have to help Pac-Man find a bottle of milk for his kid. Yes, the first thing you do in this game is search for a bottle of milk, I shit you not. Pac-Man, nor the game itself never actually acknowledge your role. If I had to describe it, you’re a fourth-wall-breaking entity armed with a slingshot whose sole purpose is to guide Pac-Man and make sure he doesn’t die…or, if you’re like me, you could have other intentions.
Other Intentions?
Okay, just let me explain. The slingshot is practically your only tool in the game. The only other thing you can do is tell Pac-Man which direction to look. Apparently, Pac-Man’s got the IQ of mud because he can’t seem to do anything or defend himself. The slingshot lets you hit almost anything in the environment. Windows, fans, apples in a tree, power-pellets, etc. Anything…even Pac-Man. You’re supposed to use these tools to “help” Pac-Man…or you could just spend the whole game fucking with him.
Folks, this game might have unlocked my inner troll. The first time I played, I don’t think I even tried to find that bottle of milk for poor Pac-Baby. I spent what might have been hours pissing Pac-Man off. Did I hit him with rocks from my slingshot every chance I got? Of course. Find ways for dogs, crows, or any other animal to chase that poor bastard down the street? Hell yeah. I even once made him get into a fistfight with a cat – that he lost. I spent more time finding new and creative ways to make Pac-Man suffer that I forgot the whole point of the game.
I was having more fun making this poor yellow man run down the street screaming, stomp around mad, or just knocking him the eff out for fun. It was at that moment that I fully embraced the strangeness of what I was playing, the joy of actively torturing Pac-Man. And here’s the thing, the game practically encourages you to do so. I recently went back to play the game and tried playing it straight but for every new area you enter, there are like 20 different ways to mess with Pac-Man some more. Sometimes the game even does it for you!
What About Actually Playing the Game?
Each chapter of the game sets you on a series of mundane tasks (get milk, find flowers, fix a guitar). Like I mentioned before, it’s actually your job to guide and make sure Pac-Man makes it through his journey safely. Whether or not you decide to mess with Pac-Man (believe me it’s tempting), the game will affect his mood. The worst Pac-Man’s mood, the less he listens to your directions. As the game tries to make Pac-Man as miserable as possible, you have to keep his spirits up, otherwise, he’s doomed to fail or fall into another trap. Every section is like a puzzle, filled with trial and error. Once you get into the groove of things and accept the strangeness of the game, it’s actually really fun. There is even an arcade section of the game where players can play all the original games.
Pac-Man 2 is definitely an experience. One of the more strange and bizarre marks on gaming icons history. It’s also a game that I recommend playing. Just to have a little sadistic fun yourself. Unfortunately, that’s a bit hard to do unless you have a Sega Genesis or Super Nintendo system and a copy of the game lying around. Thankfully, there are a few preservationists out on the internet that have made it possible to play this hidden gem on any old computer browser. So have some fun!
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The post The Ballad of Pac-Man 2: Pac-Man’s Obscure but Forgotten Legacy appeared first on Black Nerd Problems.
It might take some time but we're confident that our ever loyal listeners/followers will get used to our new broadcasting home courtesy of BTalk 100. Join your favorite AFROnerdists for this Sunday's Grindhouse episode as powered by the Afronerd Radio machine airing at 6pm eastern and again heard at this very website. The topics to be discussed are as follows: black culture and music took a heavy hit with the passing of two iconic figures-Richard Penniman aka Little Richard, "The Architect of Rock and Roll," and famed music mogul/record executive (Uptown Records and Motown Records) and classic hip hop artist, Andre Harrell:
More unfortunate but necessary COVID-19 news and developments; another legendary quarantine inspired VERZUZ match-up took place this weekend and this time it involved stellar neo-soul artists, Erykah Badu and Jill Scott-the ladies garnered hundreds of thousands of viewers via Instagram (will black culture get its social media due? if it's not black Twitter, it's instagram); Oh and is the next battle going to be between rappers, Ludacris and Nelly?; conservative radio host, Dennis Prager raised the ire of the internet from what appeared to be his meandering thoughts about how African-Americans (and Indigenous people) self identify; something we failed to discuss on our last show-the social media debate about UK singer, Adele's weight loss and how the response is actually a form of toxicity; the creators of the extremely popular Rick and Morty animated series have branched out into another similar cartoon imprint (this time on Hulu) called Solar Opposites; Dburt discovers yet another UK series that might become a "must watch" streaming exercise entitled, Gangs of London; oh and CBS' God Friended Me has been cancelled (Argh!); writers Mikki Kendall (Hood Feminism) and L.L. McKinney (A Blade So Black) might help those who can't view the highly anticipated (and COVID preempted) Black Widow film based on their new writing gig involving the same character via Marvel's Serial Box Exclusive series, Black Widow: Bad Blood; in lieu of a forthcoming Mortal Kombat live action reboot (and the recently released animated download/DVD, Scorpion's Revenge); a trailer for an extension to the MK11 video game just hit the cyberwebs entitled, Aftermath; Lastly, why was the term #newblacks trending on twitter recently? Call in LIVE at our new number: 1-508-645-0100.
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