My father was a hard man. He was a work-a-holic who had little use for things like imagination or games. He only read non-fiction and his toys were more in the order of bulldozers and welding machines. He dug ponds, cleared lots, and drove log trucks as his entertainment, in addition to working full time at a production plant.
Imagine my absolute surprise when he brought home an Atari 2600 out of the blue. I still don't understand it. This was a man who did not like the fact that my mom and I liked to read fiction. He didn't play with his children and rarely tolerated silliness. Yet, as crazy as it sounds, he's the reason I got into video-gaming.
I wasn't quite old enough at the time to be good at video-games but I wanted to play. It wasn't long before my older sisters lost interest in the Atari and it truly became mine. At first, all I had was Combat, but luckily, game prices were falling fast and I could usually find something in the bargain bin that my mom would buy for me.
I still find it strange after all these years that my father would bring home a gaming system. He never even touched it himself or gave it a second glance after that. I'll never know why he bought it but I'm certainly glad that he did.
