At the end of this month, I'm going to Detroit for a small ubergeek convention called Penguicon. I'm on eleventy million panels about everything from audiobooks to Star Trek, and I'm also pfacing off against Shawn Powers, the editor of Linux Journal in a very serious, very important battle for the ages featuring Combat on the Atari 2600. To warm up for this epic battle, the convention committee sent us each an Atari Flashback II so that we could enjoy our own training montages. I picked it up from my mailbox earlier this week, gently put it into my trunk, and drove home safely and calmly, respecting all traffic laws and my fellow drivers.

Once in the house, I unleashed my inner 8 year-old and tore the box open with reckless abandon. I grabbed the power supply and jammed it into the wall. I connected it to our television, and dove into Adventure, then Dodge-Em, then Yars' Revenge. I may have thrown some late 70s album rock onto the Sonos, to complete the experience.

"So ... it's great that you're having so much fun," my son said from the other side of the room while I was cheering the successful introduction of my Zorlon Cannon to the Qotile's bitch face, "but I'm working on my senior project here."

I toned down my celebration. "Sorry."

I switched to Asteroids, and after clearing two screens, I swear I could feel the chlorine in my lungs and on my skin from any given day in the summer of 1982.

"Hey, remember when you guys used to play your mom's 2600?" I let one small rock drift across the screen, while I racked up points blasting flying saucers.

He sighed and turned around in his chair. "Sort of. This is a really important project."

"Okay, I'll get out of here, but will you play with me when you're done? I need to, uh, practice."

He cocked one eyebrow. "You need to train? What?"

"For this thing at the end of the month. I'm playing Combat at this convention."

"You are so weird."

"I know. Will you play with me?"

"Yes." Our roles thoroughly reversed, he returned to his work and I went back to my office.

Awhile later, he called out to me. "Okay, I'm done!"

I stood up carefully, and slowly pushed my chair beneath my desk. I walked carefully through the house and did not scare my dog when I nearly tripped over her near the aquarium in the living room. I did not nearly stub my toe on the dining room table, and I was not out of breath and flush with excitement when I met Nolan in the family room.

We turned on the television, and a few minutes later, we faced off in tank pong with maximum walls. It was a furious battle, ending in a 7-7 tie when my last-second shot found its mark.

"Again," he said.

I suppressed a smile, and bumped the reset button. I quickly built an 8-3 lead, and Nolan never caught up.

"Two out of three?" I asked.

He made a face that was a combination of amusement and determination. "Yes."

He built a 10-2 lead almost instantly. I spent more time spinning around than I did actually driving my tank, though I bounced all over the map.

"I think there's a problem with this game," he said, as the match ended, 11-6. "It's way too easy to just chain your attacks together and completely own the other player."

"I think that's part of it, though," I said, starting a new game. "You've just got to find a way to keep moving and get in that first shot."

He got in the first shot, and the next five shots. I got in a couple shots of my own, but it wasn't enough. I realized, too late, that I was probably struggling because I'd forgotten to make Survivor play the appropriate 80s inspirational rock song in my head.

"You're the undisputed master of Combat," I said. "As your reward, you get to watch me play Adventure."

I flipped switches, and was soon on my way to collect the various items required to complete my quest.

"What's that?"

"Oh, that's my sword," I said, pushing my little box against an arrow-shaped icon.

"What do you use it for?"

"Slaying Dragons!" I said, as I entered a once-simple maze of passages that the passage of time had made as vexing as it was when I was eight.

"You realize you've gone into that dead end five times, right?"

"Quiet you. This is how we did it back in the 80s."

"You ran into the same dead end over and over again?"

"Yes, it was part of Reganomics."

I finally found my way out of the maze, and approached a castle, anxious to impress Nolan by grabbing the chalice within.

That's when the dragon showed up.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a dragon, of course," I said, holding the joystick out in front of me like I always did, convinced that if I moved it around, it would help me escape faster.

That's when the dragon ate me.

"This is really what you guys did for fun?"

"Well, there was this, and we'd occasionally fend off Indian attacks when we weren't Dinosaurizing our caves, yeah."

He laughed. "What other games are on this?"

I showed him Yars' Revenge. "This was my favorite 2600 game when I was a kid. I liked it even more than [ii]Pitfall!"

He looked at me.

"I liked Pitfall! a lot."

He continued to look at me.

"We all liked Pitfall! a lot."

"So, you're this insect creature called the Yar," I said as the game began, "and this guy here is the Qotile. He destroyed your home planet or something, and you've built this Zorlon cannon to extract your titular revenge."

I flew around the screen, through the neutral zone and chipped away at the Qotile defenses. My Zorlon cannon activated, and I waited to take my shot.

"From time to time, though, the Qotile turns into a Swirl, and shoots itself at you."

That's when the Qotile turned into a Swirl, and I blasted it out of the sky.

"Yes!" I looked at him, so I could bask in his approval.

"That's it?"

"Well, you get to fly around in this cool screen between levels, too," I said, "and the second level has a rotating shield."

He looked at the flashing graphics on the screen and scratched his chin.

"How many people got seizures from this when you played it?"

"I ... do not know."

"I bet you I can destroy it three times without dying," he said.

"Do it." I handed him the joystick.

"So I shoot at this thing that looks like a distress signal?"

"The Qotile," I said. "Yes, you shoot at the Qotile. With your Zorlon Cannon. Because you're exacting --"

"Revenge. I got that."

I watched with more pride than I thought possible (or revealed to my easily embarrassed teenage son), as it took him about two minutes to do exactly what he said he'd do.

"Does this ever get hard?" He asked.

"THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!"

He shook his head and handed the joystick back to me.

"Sorry. Reflex. Um, yeah, it gets challenging later on. The missile thing moves a lot faster, and the Swirls fly out a lot faster and more frequently."

"But it's pretty much the same two levels over and over again."

"The same two awesome levels, yes."

We looked at each other.

"It came with a comic book. Did I tell you about that?"

"You are so weird."

"But I'm also kind of awesome, right?"

We looked at each other.


Wil Wheaton is weird, and he is totally cool with it.

This month's Geek in Review stands entirely on its own, but also goes well (if I do say so myself) with this week's LA Daily -- click HERE to view.