Why I loved the ‘Stranger Things’ Finale

By Kyle Marksteiner, Editor

I’ve seen quite a few posts online from people saying that the epilogue portion of the Stranger Things series finale was boring, overly long and unnecessary. I could not disagree more strongly.

I graduated from high school in 1993, which would put me at about the same age as Erica Sinclair, the show’s sassy super genius.

While my childhood friends and I never fought any Demogorgons, we did play our share of Dungeons and Dragons. We also put trash bags over our legs and explored the sewers of our Houston suburb. We climbed on top of buildings and leapt into nearby trees (with mixed success). We flung rolls of toilet paper into the yards of our friends and enemies.

And, yes, we played a lot of video games.

Two of my closest friends throughout childhood were Dustin and Scott, a rough and tumble set of fraternal twins. We met at the swimming pool, bonded over an Atari 2600 and soccer practice, and expanded our network of friends to a wonderful group of young men. Scott was easygoing and strong. Dustin was brilliant, agile and one of those people who did well at everything he attempted.

During my senior year in high school, I had a great idea for a prank at nearby West Oaks Mall. Dustin was my lookout and Scott drove the getaway car. It didn’t go exactly as planned, and Dustin even offered to pay a hefty fine in order to keep me out of trouble.

(Details of said prank have been redacted to preserve my carefully crafted status as a nonprofit director).

Graduation came. At the celebration afterwords, most of the teenagers were likely busy making out at Fun Plex’s movie theater, bowling alley or skating rink. My friend group snuck into the child’s play area and got busted having a war in the ball pit area.

Is it too late to apologize to my poor mother?

The show’s main villain, Vecna, uses the sound of a ticking clock to bring terror to his victims. But time’s true terror lies not in the passage of seconds, but in the blur of decades.

Members of my friend group actually did a really good job keeping in contact during college, but then we largely went our separate ways during the next phase of our lives. We saw each other now and then at weddings, and we met online now and then to play World of Warcraft or Age of Empires.

Then, in 2018, I received a phone call that Dustin had taken his own life.

(Note: if you are someone reading this who is experiencing suicidal thoughts, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me, or to anyone else, or call the national hotline at 988).

At Dustin’s memorial service, members of my friend group all vowed to rekindle our childhood friendship by trying to meet once a year. We met two years in a row, then COVID hit, and we’ve met a couple times since then. We’ve dubbed the meetings “Dustinfest,” which I think he probably would have hated.

At the end of the Stranger Things finale, the college kids all made promises to meet up again. The high school kids played one last Dungeons and Dragons adventure, and then put their notebooks back up on the shelf for a final time. Mike’s younger sister, Holly, then led her own entourage down into the basement to queue up a new game.

And I’ll be honest, I was teary eyed throughout the entire part of the show. After ten years of Stranger Things, part of it was certainly investment in the characters themselves.

But I was also thinking about my friends Scott, and Tan, and Aaron, and Charlie, and Kevin, and Jason, and Robert, and well, you get the picture.

Mostly, I was thinking about Dustin, who I will always miss.

The Stranger Things finale was a beautiful but bittersweet sendoff to the magic of childhood.

Adults who somehow don’t find that to be just a little bit relatable can eat one of Delightful Derek’s farts.