The most fun you’ll ever have in your life takes place during our formative years: childhood. For most of us, the events of early childhood are unclear or blurry. Perhaps a few of the more poignant events stand out: birthdays, parties, religious events, graduating to the next grade, a first kiss, or just a particularly fun day with friends are all things that can be remembered with clarity and precision. Bringing forth these memories is by no means a formidable task for any of us.  In fact, certain words, songs, images, and people draw these memories from deep within our subconscious without our knowing. It is with this information that I present to you perhaps one of the most thought provoking memories which all of us born in the ‘82-’86 era remember: Our first encounter with Bob-omb.

The year was 1985, a newly establish company with a relatively obscure name had just took a marketing venture that, little to their knowledge, would start a revolution and evolve into one of the most profitable business branches in history.  Nintendo was the company, and the NES (Nintendo Entertainment System) was their product.  The NES was a cartridge-based home video game system that you could now probably purchase with the change you find in your couch, but in ‘85 this was not the case. The cutting edge technology of the NES came at a high price, yet it still sold like the only lighter in a crack house. Everyone wanted one, and just about everyone got one.  Of course, upon release, the titles available were quite limited; well, let’s be fair, extremely limited.  There were only two titles at the systems launch: Mario Brothers and Duck Hunt, both of which were featured on the same cartridge.

Our generation did not really get around to playing Nintendo until our later early childhood, around the age of five, I reckon.  Simply because games require a certain amount of hand-eye coordination and dexterity to be played, not to mention a certain mental capacity, a child of 3 or 4 could not play them successfully. But once we got our hand on a controller and began playing Mario Brothers, we ran into perhaps one of the most inspirational and influential characters we know today.  No, I’m not talking about Mario, Luigi, the Princess, Toad, or even Koopa.  I’m talking about the little guy everyone underestimated, the little Koopa trooper that could, I’m talking about Bob-omb.

I know you remember Bob-omb, but in case your memory is hazy from drugs or otherwise, allow me to refresh it.  Bob-omb was, simply put, a badass walking time bomb.  Upon seeing our pipe-repairing protagonist, Bob-omb would sacrifice himself to protect his leader, Koopa.  This young trooper is a shining monument of what it means to care for someone you love.  Not only did Bob teach us that love means giving yourself fully to and for another person, but he also taught us many real life skills which we can apply to school, jobs, and even volunteer work, allow me to extrapolate.

Bob was always around, and so he taught as the value of persistence. No matter how many times you may have trounced Bob on your way to the flagpole at the end of the level, he always seemed to come back and one step (level) ahead of you nonetheless. His mentality was incredible and legendary: if at first you don’t succeed, then try, try again. Let’s be honest for a minute, hasn’t Bob gotten all of us at least once?  Reducing us to mini-Mario or perhaps taking one of our many extra lives was his specialty, and he was very good at what he did. Bob taught us the virtue of patience.  He would calmly wait at his place along the seemingly infinite side-scrolling world waiting for you, the enemy, to approach.  He would then risk life and limb trying to make your path a difficult one.  Yes, by being relentless, Bob taught us that we could accomplish anything and jump over any walking bomb if we put our minds to it.

Bob brings out all the emotions that are necessary for a person to grow and flourish. I remember smiling in victory after defeating the game, and I also remember breaking the reset button in frustration because I had just been blown to smithereens. Bob has been a teacher, a mentor, and a sage. Unfortunately he’ll never be our friend, but we can always hope.

Dialtone: The Movie, The Trailer