Family Memory (XXXII): Gaming in the Basement

One of the great things about the house in Davenport was the massive basement–along with the old octagon table and the pool table down there…perfect sizes for playing games. There was a TV and a couple couches. My parents put a bar in down there circa 1973 or so–so there was a refrigerator to boot–we didn’t care about the alcohol truthfully.

It pretty much meant that from the moment I became good friends with certain people (Steve H., Eric, Baron et al.), it provided a safe place to get together, hang out, and play games. Their parents didn’t care–because it was in one of the circle of friends’ house. My mom didn’t care–because it was a huge basement and she knew I wasn’t out and about.

It meant that on a whole lot of weekends–and during the summer throughout the week, there’d be all sorts of combos of people down there playing boardgames or Atari (Yes, this dates me).

I remember the basement’s natural temperature being so cold in summertime, people would bring sweatshirts with them–often wearing jeans rather than shorts. In winter, it wasn’t too warm–stayed around 67-68 down there…basically year-round.

We kept using the basement to get together even after high school–adding in college friends…still playing games and BSing. It only changed once we all hit adulthood–some people moving away (like me). But when there were holidays and I was in town (and then me and Julie, then me, Julie, and Erick…then add Brigitte…then Michael)…we’d still get together at the house though we usually wound up in the dining room then rather than downstairs.

That was because we were all adults–my mom loved hearing what they were up to and how life was going. She loved them very much. It wasn’t about a safe place for a 13-yr old then. It was about seeing guys who were friends for 20+ years still friends, still getting together every chance possible. There’s a dirty ‘secret’ in here, too–my friends liked gaming at the house in Davenport because they loved my mom back. She was never angry at any of them, always listened to them, always in a way that gave you a bit of security as a kid, growing into real friendship as time passed.

Now–to be fair to this memory, it wasn’t always at my Mom’s house. We did stuff at Eric’s, Steve’s, Baron’s…later at Dave’s, too. It was all the same everywhere–parents happy to have people in the house enjoying themselves, glad to hear what was up for everyone.

I get that now especially–I moved hours away. It limited the chance to see friends on a regular basis. We’ve seen each other once in the last 2.5 years–and that was to help at Erik‘s house…that was a mixed experience…sad and happy thinking about loss–and thinking about the great times. It doesn’t change that I’ve been friends with a couple of the guys for FORTY years now.

It’s the same thinking about the basement for me–it’s a bit sad. The house sold a decade ago. I’ve driven past it once total on all my trips to the QC. It’s hard to see a house that was in the family for 40 years…even with the great memories from the basement–Junta, APBA Baseball, Star Fleet Battles and the Nacho Cheese Nebula, pizza from Happy Joe’s or Godfather’s, gallons of cola of all sorts.