I’m wandering through a Half-Price Books in Berkeley, noticing that they sell way too many things that aren’t books — why don’t they call it Half-Price Books’n'More? Half-Price Mixed Media? Half-Price Miscellany? Half-Price Books Aren’t Enough to Pay the Rent Anymore? Maybe the likes of Barnes & Noble and Borders have just taught everyone to expect music and movies and whatnot from their bookstores. I don’t know.

At any rate, some of the half-price things they sell at Half-Price Whatever-you-want are video games; they’re mostly boxed versions of casual games that digital cool kids like you and I already downloaded and played through a year ago. One of these games is Diner Dash, which I have fond memories of, since: 1) I really enjoyed it; and 2) I wrote a review of it a long, long time ago. (Well, it feels like a long time ago — it’s been a busy four years.)

Anyway, I’m walking past this “collector’s edition” of Diner Dash, and one of the blurbs on the box catches my eye: “A Momentary Escape From Your Dreary 9-5.”

Diner Dash box

“Hey,” I think to myself. “That sounds like something I would– waaaait a minute!” The blurb doesn’t just sound like one I would write, but is, in fact, the one I did write for PopMatters.

My words are being used to shill warmed-up video game leftovers. That’s kind of awesome!

It makes me think: If I’d gone down a different road four years ago and kept writing about games instead of making them, would I be the Jeffrey Lyons of the gaming industry by now?