n the fall of 1981, just after starting junior high school, my brother Jeff and I tried to convince our parents that we “needed” an Atari VCS for Christmas. Our parents had never been very electronics or modern convenience friendly, so it was quite a tough sell. Other than a color TV (Zenith console circa 1972), there was nothing in our house that would signify to, say a time traveler from the year 2181, that technology had progressed much since the end of World War II. My mom washed the dishes by hand, threw her food garbage in a compost trash can, opened cans with two hands, a tool, and a twisting motion, popped popcorn on the stove in covered pot, “processed” food with a knife and a cutting board, made coffee with a pan and a strainer on the stove, and heated all meals in a vintage O’Keefe And Merit built-in oven using gas only (never waves of any kind, micro, or otherwise). Likewise My dad mowed the lawn with a push mower, paid for all purchases with cash (never credit), listened to A.M. radio exclusively, and refused any kind of telephonic upgrade beyond the, a single, flesh colored, wired, rotary telephone in the living room. For our entertainment our house received channels (2-13 and 28) and had a stereo system that could play a phonograph records only (no supports for tapes of any kind). The very idea that a video game system could invade this environment was beyond unthinkable, it was ludicrous