Like many games from that era, especially RPGs, you couldn't just save any time or place you wanted. After killing a bunch of monsters and gathering a backpack full of loot, players were required to backtrack through the dungeon so they could save their progress and loot in the tavern.

It was a Saturday, about lunchtime.  My wife had been playing Apshai all morning and she was on an epic run.  I've never seen so much loot and I told her (nay, begged her) to leave the dungeon and save her progress. She kept telling me, "No, I'm good. I can do this."

I couldn't watch anymore, so I ran down to the store to pick up some lunch. When I got back 30 or so minutes later she was STILL in the dungeon.

"Look what I got in the last room!!!"  (I don't remember the item, but I do remember that it was incredible.)  Then she uttered the now infamous, "I'm going to do just ONE more room, and then I'm going to save."

I'm sure you can guess what happened next.  Giant spiders... and a dragon.  She begged the game gods, she pleaded with them, tears running down her cheeks as she tried to run away.  "No, don't kill me!!  Please!  No!  You can't.  NOOOOooooooo!"

She still plays RPGs, but I think that was her last visit to the "Temple of Apshai".

Many years ago I learned how to write VBA code for Excel and other Microsoft programs.  I can't begin to tell you how valuable this knowledge has been over the years.  Almost every project I work on as a designer involves some sort of mind numbing data entry that can take anywhere from a few hours to a few days... or even weeks.  Now, I just pull out Excel, write a bit of code and voila!  I push a button and the work is done.  It's like inventing a robot to do my work for me!  And not only is it faster, it's more accurate, as well... because computers don't make typos. 

I used to get pretty frustrated when I was learning how to program.  I'd change something in one part of my code and something would break in a completely unrelated part.  I once told my wife that programming a computer is like changing the windshield wiper in the car... and suddenly the engine won't start.

I have to say, though, that while I'm a pretty awful coder I absolutely LOVE it.  Programming is like solving little puzzles, and I love being able to play and tweak the stuff I write.

When I got started in the business over 30 years ago, I taught myself how to program a Commodore 64 in 6502 assembly language. At first, I only learned a few basic commands, but my limited vocabulary really put a damper on what I could do -- then I started to learn other commands and each one was like discovering I had a new superpower.

I remember how excited I was to show off my first assembly language game to an actual programmer. (An "Asteroids" style shooter, as I recall.) He said, "Not bad for a first effort. What Assembler did you use?"

I said, "Sorry... Assembler?  What's that?"

With a strange look on his face he replied, "It's a utility program that allows you to write machine language code with labels, line numbers, etc.  If you didn't use an Assembler how on earth did you write this?"

Feeling kind of stupid now I said, "I, um, used a machine language monitor". (This is a tool programmers use to change memory locations in the computer to either code or graphics.)

A couple of years ago Electronic Arts set up a focus test for a GBA "Lord of the Rings" game.  A friend of mine was the Designer/Producer and he was invited to watch the test from one of those special rooms with the double mirrors.  There were 8 to 10 kids in the test, with an adult standing behind each one taking notes.  The adults had been instructed NOT to provide any help or assistance. 

The test starts and my friend is watching the closest participant, a cute little girl roughly 9 years old.  To his dismay, he IMMEDIATELY realizes that there is a problem with the current build of the game -- a last minute change has caused the monster database to wrap around.  So the cute harmless little monster at the start of the game has the actual stats of the final END BOSS!  The EA Producer, in an attempt to cover his ass and salvage *something* useful out of the test, decides to let it continue. 

The girl, an excited smile on her face, runs cute little Frodo up to harmless looking little starter monster and hits her Attack button:  <dink>  The creature turns around and ANNIHILATES Frodo with a single blow.   

The girl looks rather startled.  Hmmm.   

The girl restarts the game and tries again, this time repeatedly tapping her Attack button:  <dink dink dink dink>  Again Frodo is smashed into the ground with a single hit. 

"Geeeez", the girl must have been thinking, "This game is kind of hard."   

On her next attempt the girl tries to combine a jump with her assault <jump dink jump dink jum-- SMMMAASHHHH! GAME OVER!> Confused and frustrated she turns around to ask for help, but the adult just shakes his head.  He's not allowed to say anything. 

Tears start to well up in her eyes but she keeps at it.  She tries running, she tries mashing multiple buttons, she tries dodging left and right:  <dink run CRRRUNCH>  <dinkdinkdinkdi-- SMOOOOSH>  Now the tears are flowing down her cheeks.  <jump run dink CRAAACK!> <dink dodge run jum-- SMAAACK!>  She tries to hide it but before long her body is wracked by heaving sobs.   

Mercifully, someone finally sees her and they stop the test. 

After hearing this story a team member jokingly suggested that EA should adopt the slogan: "We make little kids cry".

Many years ago, while I was running Product Development at Cinemaware Corporation, I received a phone call from a programmer looking for work.  I was having a hard time hearing him because the guy was whispering frantically into his phone.  Eventually, he managed to blurt out that he worked for a company called "Oddworld Inhabitants" and after a few more minutes on the phone with this apparent nutcase he suddenly hung up. 

Ten minutes later he called back, this time from a payphone down the street from the Oddworld offices.  He was convinced that the company was monitoring his phone calls and he launched into a major rant about mandatory weekend team outings, daily vitamins, forced company exercise sessions, and more. 

I thought the guy was a paranoid wacko, but years later I met someone else who confirmed many of the stories.

When I was the Director of Product Development at Cinemaware a young guy named "Will Wright" came to see us during one of the CES shows.  (That's what we used to call "E3", for you young whippersnappers).  Will was trying to garner interest for this little game he was working on called "Sim City".  I was the only one in the room that actually LIKED the game, but it sounded impossibly ambitious and I didn't think he would finish the game in a million years.  So I also cast a "no thanks" vote.   

I feel pretty stupid about that decision now, but the concept seemed pretty far fetched.  Imagine today, if a young team pitched a gangster MMO set in Capone's Chicago.  They tell you:  "Not only will the game feature every mobster from that era but we're going to... like... accurately model every person living in the Chicago area!!!  And each actor will behave realistically like they're actually living in the world.  And...  And...  And..."  You'd probably think, "Uh, you guys need a reality check."  I don't think I said those words to Mr. Wright, but I was thinking something similar.  Who knew? 

< sigh >

I graduated from Pepperdine University in 1983 with a degree in Radio and Television Broadcasting. My first job was a midnight radio show at a light rock station in Ventura, California.  I'd work from 11: 45 PM to 6:00 AM, drive home, have breakfast with my wife and then head off to bed as she was leaving the condo to go to her job.  The second she was gone, though, I'd hop out of bed and fire up my Commodore 64 to play games. 

I loved my C-64 games and I taught myself machine language programming.  When I found out about a local game company (Funsoft, I think), I called them to ask if I could come by for a tour.  A young programmer named Troy Lyndon answered the phone (the first game developer I ever talked to), and he invited me to come see the operation. 

If you could call it that. 

The Funsoft offices were in an old warehouse and Troy was basically living in a second story control room.  When I walked in the door he was working on the C-64 version of a platformer called Snokie.  Troy received no salary for his efforts, but he got a small royalty for each disk.  Troy and I became friends and eventually worked together at GameStar in Santa Barbara.  Troy went on to co-found Park Place Productions with Mike Knox.

One of my favorite gaming moments happened while I was playing EQ one night.  It was late and I was running (invisible) through the Karanas on my way to Qeynos to log off.  As I passed the gypsy camp I noticed a lion walking up behind a young gnome.  Even though I was really tired I decided to be a good samaritan and help the guy out. 

I targeted the lion, clicked on my mesmerize spell, and then I started to type: "I am mezzing the lion for you."  I got as far as: "I am " when I suddenly remembered that I had replaced my mesmerize spell with an AoE mesmerize spell.  Seeing the high level gypsy enchantress in the camp I knew I was in big trouble. The spell was going to hit her for sure.

Panicked, I tried to move and interrupt the spell.  I stabbed at my WASD keys, muttering "oh shit, oh shit, oh shit" under my breath, but nothing happened. Why couldn't I move??? 

I forgot that I was in typing mode. 

The spell fired off and sure enough, the gypsy enchantress didn't like my attempt to mesmerize her.  She promptly turned around and charmed me.  Next thing I know, my peace loving gnome pulls out a dagger and heads for the guy I was trying to *save*. I swear to god that little gnome looked like a deer caught in headlights when I came after him, but there was nothing either of us could do. Knife flailing like a crazed sushi chef, I chased him down and stabbed him to death. 

Dying in Everquest was a pretty horrible experience, so I felt terrible about what happened. I eventually found my victim and he admitted to being VERY confused. He said, "There I was minding my own business, no other players around; suddenly, a strange gnome appears out of nowhere, announces 'I am waaaadddddd',  and then he slices me to pieces like some miniature Freddy Krueger!" 

NOTE: I posted this story on an Everquest forum and it gained a small following.  Four or five years later I was telling a work friend about my experience that day and a guy from a nearby cubicle ran over excitedly and said, "Oh my god.  You're waaaadddd?????"