Think back to a time when summer really meant something to you. To most adults, the summer season just means unreasonably hot days, a lack of non-reality network television, and feeling just a twinge of jealousy seeing children outside having the time of their young lives. Chances are, you were once a child too, enjoying all the perks of freedom that summer had to offer. School was out and you were too young to have a job, so what did you do? Ride your bike? Play games with the neighborhood kids? Read dozens of books in order to show up all the other soon-to-be fourth graders in your elementary school’s Book It program? Yeah, I did those things too, but my childhood summers offered another novelty: the ability to play video games all day long, uninterrupted by homework or parental intrusion.

While my family’s Nintendo Entertainment System first resided in the TV room, after a few years in had been moved to the dusty, unfinished attic. When it was hooked up to a decades-old television that had knobs for controls and no remote, I liked to sit inches away from the screen in a rickety rocking chair, lost in my own little world. During the school year, there were rules and restrictions that I didn’t much care for: going to school, doing homework, doing chores, eating dinner with my family, having a bedtime. In the summer, my parents were at work all day, and I was left to my own devices, which often meant playing Nintendo games. I spent hours in front of that old TV, sunlight streaming in through a single window, the summer I was determined to beat all three Super Mario Bros. games.

Being a child during the 8-bit days, beating a game was rarely the ultimate goal of playing a game. You played for fun, for a few hours, eventually losing all your lives or just growing bored. You turned the game off, and you tried again the next day. I had been playing the Mario games for years at this point, and I’d had enough. I was old enough, and skilled enough, and I was going to complete them once and for all. With a goal in mind, it became easy to focus, memorizing level after level, finding hidden blocks, extra lives, and rare items. Warp pipes were prohibited, of course; everyone knew that beating a game didn’t really count if you skipped entire worlds. I did them in order, all by myself, and by summer’s end, I had accomplished my goal: I had beaten all three 8-bit Super Mario Bros. games. Few people believed me when I bragged about it to my classmates once school had started, but I knew it was true, and that was all that mattered.

As an adult, summer gaming has taken a much different form. Like most people who weren’t born into a trust fund, I’m forced to work to make money to live and eat and buy new games. While summer gaming in past generations has usually meant a complete drought of worthwhile games, an interesting trend has developed in the last few years, giving new meaning to summer gaming. Retail titles are scarce, but downloadable gaming peaks every summer, particularly with Xbox Live’s “Summer of Arcade”. Between DeathSpank, Limbo, and this week’s Scott Pilgrim vs. The World on the PSN, I’m at no loss for new games, and since downloadable titles tend to be smaller and shorter, I won’t break the bank, and will finish everything in time for September’s pre-holiday season rush.

I’ve developed a personal summer tradition in the last few years as well, though it’s tied to the fact that big triple-A titles are few and far between from June to September. This is the perfect time for me to replay some older game that I’m feeling nostalgic for, usually a lengthy RPG that I’d never have time to play during the rest of the year. Last year, it was Persona 3 FES; the year before, Final Fantasy X, which was preceded by Final Fantasy VII. This summer, I’m going to dig into the SNES copy of Earthbound lent to me by a friend, though it will be a little different, because I’ve never played it before. I know, I know, it’s way overdue.

The last noticeable evolution of summertime gaming in relation to my own personal experiences is the notion of vacation gaming. For nearly twenty years, my family has been going to the Outer Banks of North Carolina for a week in the summer, and the fact that my brothers and I are technically adults hasn’t put a stop to our family vacations. In fact, they’ve only gotten bigger, with friends and significant others being added to the group. A few years ago, we started bringing consoles with us, which our parents never would have allowed when we were younger. First it was just an Xbox, to get in a few games of Halo and Fusion Frenzy. Last year, there were two Xbox 360 systems, two Wiis, a PS3, a full set of Rock Band instruments, and dozens of games. Vacation gaming has become a family activity, with Rock Band nights now a North Carolina staple, just like pulled pork and hurricanes. We’ll once again be packing up our consoles for the trip in less than two weeks, and I’m counting the days until I can enjoy The Beatles: Rock Band with my parents, brothers, and friends.

When I was younger, there was something really special about summertime, and I just haven’t been able to give up that notion as an adult. Likewise, the concept of summer gaming means something to me as well, though it has certainly evolved over the years. Summer’s still my favorite season, and as I try to hang on to every moment, I can’t help but notice recurring habits that don’t occur in any other season. What does summer gaming mean to you? Have you also experienced an evolution in the season’s gaming in your transition from childhood to adulthood?