I finally asked for a gameboy for Christmas after my buddy had received one a year or so previous with red or blue. Then we both received yellow the same Christmas. I took it along on a two week road trip driving in a big stuffy van to Yellowstone and everyother Wyoming point of interest. Countless buffalo and antelope were ignored while I was focused on capturing pokemon. I remember the irony of capturing that one pokemon at the game preserve in Yellow that looks like a cross between a wildebeest and a buffalo. I had a book to read too, but reading in a car makes me feel weird and for whatever reason the game boy did not so I read while we stopped to free my mind from the pokenumb; which countered the road-read nausea. It was a game of it's own. Of course, any kind of game is welcome when you are in the mid-west.
Also of note, on the same trip we made a return through , where I found the largest perfectly formed man-sized slingshot wood EVER, which I still keep to this day. It was a piece of smoothed driftwood that formed a Y at the top with a nice 4 foot staff to rest on the ground.
I promptly set out on an expedition back to the lake after showing my fine new weapon to my dad, who was likely unsure whether the weapon was servicible or not. Hiding in some bushes, I commenced on an operation to splash rocks into the lake in an attempt to make the few fishing boats on the water to come closer, as jumping fish always seems to stir a fisherman's interest.
The scheme worked admirably. After an hour or so, my sister had joined my team, likely after being sent out to find me by my father. She had reported back and promptly returned with ammunition. Two boats across the lake came closer as I calmly reloaded again and again. The smaller of the two boats, an aluminum flatbottom shallows boat with an old man and a younger, more bored man were the first to reach the scene of my bombardment. I wondered at what point they would notice the strange children hurling rocks at them with a weapon that is a mix of primeval and nylon stretchy fiber. Surely they would hear the thwack of the duct tape being impacted by the creaking bungies against more duct tape wrapped around wood. I pondered if it was Red Green and Harold, come to congratulate my ingenuity. Maybe Harold had that fucking awesome keyboard guitar thing with him and would teach me how to play it. Nevertheless I decided it was my duty to continue to fire rocks into the corpse of an innocent glacier. Picture if you will a home made mortar type device, except it uses small rocks and elastic instead of explosives.
As the boat prowled closer, I continued splashing rocks in a a devastating rain upon the calm lake, some as far as probably 150 or 250 yards out (and it's hard to be sure about distances since I'm different sized now and I was at a height), since I was on a ledge about halfway down a pine forested glacier lake. They have an extremely steep slope ending abruptly in about 4 or 5 feet of 'coast' before the lake (if it's not a straight drop at some point)
Anyways though, we kept shooting the slingshot