When we moved to California from the East Coast, we stayed with some extended family at first. I wandered into the yard with my prized possession - an army man that you could turn on and he would crawl forward with a gun in-hand - to play in the grass and dirt. However, the sound of this little army dude was driving the next-door neighbor's dog nuts, and he was angrily peering at my little battlefield through a hole in the fence. Eventually, he busted through and I freaked out, abandoning the army guy.
Later, after the commotion died down about the broken fence, the remains of my toy were returned to me. He was torn to shreds, and I was devastated. However, to cheer me up, my family sat my sister and I down in a room at our new home - in front of a CRT TV. With a Nintendo Entertainment System.
They booted up Super Mario Bros, and while my sister was a bit too young to understand what was happening on screen, my mind was blown ( I was about 5). I was in control of a cartoon character. That started it all for me.