Growing Up Geek
My dad was always very athletic. Baseball, football, swimming, it all came very naturally to the old man. As his first born son, I think there were some pretty high expectations established. When I proved to be more artistic, bookish, and worst of all, LEFT HANDED, everything went to hell in a handbasket. I spent a lot of years throwing with the wrong foot forward (aka: "like a girl"). Chasing after Inaccurate, slow and wild pitches were standard requirements for playing catch with me. But Atari 2600? Oohh that was a different story. I could make Pitfall Harry survive well beyond his average lifespan. Scorpions would gnash their claws in impotent rage, oil pits would shamefully close behind me, logs would roll to infinity, with no legs to crush. Back then Activision had a high score policy, and if you took a picture of your high score, they'd send you a patch for your jacket announcing your supremacy. I remember my high score day so vividly. I was in the zone, having covered miles of jungle effortlessly. When I finally did buy the digital farm I ran to my mom, asked her to photograph my victory. I could already see that armpatch. I would proudly wear it for the rest of my life. All the kids at school would bow and scrape before my dominant presence. The women would whisper tales of my seven year old prowess. The boys would part before me, granting me access to the biggest cupcake on fundraiser day. Sadly, cameras were not digital then, and I guess my mom didn't know much about light levels and shooting CRT's. My victory turned to ash in my mouth. Crushed, I shifted my energies to role-playing-games. Turns out you need friends to play those. My socialization skills were going to need some work. But that's another story.
Read More