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The first time I ever saw Pac-Man, I couldn’t even reach the controls without standing on my tiptoes. It was 1981, I was 7 years old, and my dad had taken me to the bowling alley where he played in a Thursday night league. While he warmed up with the other middle-aged men in polyester shirts, I wandered toward the hypnotic electronic sounds coming from the small arcade section tucked in the corner. There it…

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