I have 15 minutes until a conference call starts. I can’t really do anything productive in those 15 minutes, so guess what - you’re going to get a high speed download of badly constructed sentences from my horrendously organised brain. I should probably warn you that this will become the “norm” for this blog - scattered thoughts, fired through the keyboard like some kind of unpredictable blunderbuss.
I’m still fiddling with this new blog. Before work this morning I hooked up Google Analytics, so I can pore over my own visits to read the things I’ve just written. Let’s face it - very few other people are going to come and read this stuff - especially if most of the posts are like this.
One of my co-workers just asked what my favourite arcade machines of all time were (it sounds like he’s building an arcade of his own at home - not sure how long it will be until his other half goes nuts and forces him to sell it all on EBay). I have fond memories of video game arcades, but like most children, actually playing any games pretty much depended on how good you were at begging money from your parents - and I was rubbish at that. My brother on the other hand was a begging expert, and therefore become an expert at such games as Pacman, Defender, and Pheonix. I guess the arcade machines that stand out in my memory are the old Star Wars sit down machine (the one where Obiwan talks, and has 3D graphics), and Hard Drivin’ (the first big 3D driving simulator). I remember watching my Dad drive it, and banging my head on the top of the cabinet when he went off a jump in the game - nearly knocking my brains out in the process.
In later years of course - once I was earning money - I shovelled endless amounts of it into Sega Rally. I dimly remember playing it in an arcade one day (I could complete the game quite easily), and a small crowd gathering to watch. Thinking back, that’s probably the only experience of “fame” I can ever remember - and naturally it was the nerdiest fame you could probably imagine.
Ok. 7 minutes until the conference call. I better go read the e-mail and figure out what on earth we’re going to be talking about (or rather, what I need to sound clever about).