choose your own adventure: part 1

I went through a phase when I read Choose Your Own Adventure books as a diversion. In case you're not familiar with the concept, Choose Your Own Adventures were sort of like paper-bound role-playing games. You assumed the identity of the protagonist in one of the stories, and were called upon to make important decisions at different junctures in the text. Depending upon what action you took, you faced a new gamut of decisions ad nauseum. Eventually you were called to make one final decision, and you would arrive at one of many different endings.

Choose Your Own Adventures were cool for many reasons. I got to take control of the narrative. My role as the reader was very important. If I did not make the right decisions, the world might be taken over by Nazi Germany or Kelbatron and his dark robots from Olbakrine Theta! Adventure called—and I accepted the charges.

Destiny was in my hands.

At least, I thought so. But the damn books never worked right for me. I would go through once and get an ending—often the one I didn't want. Choose Your Own Adventures were designed to cultivate critical thinking skills—if you arrived at the wrong ending, you needed to retrace your steps and find out what error you made. But for me, this was always an exercise in futility. Kelbatron would win, so I'd retrace my steps and find a juncture like this:

"You see a bright silver disk descend from the upper atmosphere and hover over the earth. Your heart beats faster, and you feel torn between two forces: curiosity and fear of the unknown. What do you do?

If you approach the silver disk, turn to page 43.
If you run away and examine the scene from a safe distance, turn to page 92."

The first time, I'd turn to page 43 because—hell—the disk took the time to travel all the way through the upper atmosphere. Someone's got to greet the occupants! I'm a curious cat.

So I'd turn to the appropriate page and meet this:

"The flying disk turns bright red as you approach. It begins to spin faster and move towards you. What do you do?

If you stand still and see what happens, turn to page 15.
If you break into a run and fly in the opposite direction, turn to page 77."

And—again, being a curious cat—I'd inevitably choose to stand still and see what happens. The disk responded to my presence, didn't it? I was getting an answer from something new!

So, on to page 15, where:

"The spinning red disk flies through your neck and severs your head from your shoulders. You die and Kalbatron takes over the world.

You should have run away."

Utterly defeated, I would restart. And I was determined to change my future!

So I'd get to the first decision, and struggle with it, and eventually say to myself: "Oh, it can't be all that bad to approach the disk again. Who knows what will happen?"

To page 43, and the second crisis.

And when I considered what I'd do, again I would wait and see what happened. In real life, I'd be just as ignorant as the first time through. So I turn to page 15 and get my head chopped off. So I'd use an expletive and turn to the beginning and try again.

But I just can't help it—I know what I'd do. In real life, I'd go towards the saucer, wait while it changed color, and stand idly by while it chopped off my head. I just would. That's the kind of guy I am. I really stand by my convictions.

And get my head chopped off again and again.

[crap]
brian