Twenty years ago, I sat in my brother-in-lawâs den watching five year old Philip soundly trounce his grandmother at his favorite game â Pac Man. After his third successive win, Phil gave his grandmother a puzzled look and asked, âGeeze, Grammy, didnât you play Pac Man when you were a kid?â I know that I didnât play Pac Man as a kid. Iâm from the Pong generation. I did get my chance to brush up on my ghost-eating skills for a quarter a game in the Student Union in my freshman year at college. By the time little Phil was cheating his grandmother (sly little runt had set her on Advanced while he played Easy â and forgot to mention to her that you had to EAT the power pills in order to eat the ghosts), the world of gaming was on a roll that simply gathers View the rest of this article
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