Sunday begins really late for me - I wake up from a really heavy sleep, having had to take an antihistamine the night before because I've taken a lot more second-hand smoke than I'm used to (and I'm really allergic to it - so if anyone there wondered why I didn't show up for the parties, I'm really sorry, I wanted to but I literally couldn't breathe in this town). The problem with this heavy sleep is that I sleep right through 10:45am - right through the Intellivision programmers' keynote - yikes. I do make a beeline for Howard Scott Warshaw again, and plunk down some of my money from the Q*Bert marquee auction for his DVD. I also give him one of my demo reel DVDs and give him a brief rundown of my own documentary project. At the very least he already digs the packaging. He also signs my Expo program "Yar friend, Howard Scott Warshaw" - ha!

Cav grabs me and pulls me into the John Harris keynote speech, and I'm really glad he does. Harris programmed Jawbreaker for the Atari 2600 and several home computer platforms, as well as the celebrated Atari 8-bit computer version of Frogger. His story of struggles with Sierra's Ken Williams, going from computer game programming to microcode on the 2600 version of Jawbreaker, and his self-imposed exile from designing and coding games until recently were very interesting. As his keynote winds down (sorry if I kinda took over the Q&A, guys...I just like Jawbreaker!), more and more people start filing in. They aren't there to see John Harris, and sadly I think he knows it. He invites anyone interested to step out into the hall to see demos of his PocketPC/palm games that he'd been working on - and that's the last I see of him. I really feel bad about that - I wish he'd stuck around a bit longer. The crowd filing into the lecture hall is there for the next one - the big one.

Pretty soon, the lecture hall is standing room only. None of us mere guests are allowed in the front row - that's reserved for other VIPs (Steve Woita sits in front of me, but graciously makes sure he's clear of my camcorder as he gives me the last signed/numbered copy of Clickum - something I'd planned on buying from him anyway). Both Cav and Leonard Herman are acting as moderators for this one, though once Nolan takes the floor they're really trying to just make sure that nobody slams the doors if they have to leave (but damned if it doesn't still happen! Who would leave Nolan Bushnell's panel?).

And then in he walks. Nolan Bushnell himself. The room gets so quiet for a moment that you'd think everyone in it held their breath all at once. The blast of flashbulbs is enough to blind everyone in the room. Leonard gives a quick introduction of the next speaker, "without whom none of us would be here today." Instant standing ovation - or at least Woita tries to start one!

What follows is a surprisingly low-key and humble personal guided tour of Nolan Bushnell's entry into the amusement industry, the founding of Atari, unreleased or otherwise stillborn projects, his take on Atari after his exit (including the confirmation of a rumor that he was trying to buy the compny's name and intellectual property rights back at around the time Hasbro Interactive entered the picture), the somewhat complex relationship between Atari and invented "rival" Kee Games, and even the lawsuit and settlement with Ralph Baer. More than once, he opens the floor for questions (which instantly nets us the funny but perhaps pointless "Mr. Bushnell, are you running for Governor of California?", though even then there's a fascinating answer as Nolan discussed his short-lived fascination with running for a seat in Congress in the 80s; I groan when the question is asked - is there nothing Atari-related that we wouldn't rather talk about? - but he still gave us an entertaining answer). And more than once, he almost seems overwhelmed by the rapt attention, pausing to ask "So, what do you guys want to hear about?" It's an invitation to pick his brain, and quite a few people can't refuse.

And before we know it, it's all over - but not really. Nolan Bushnell sticks around to sign autographs, and people bring everything from their original home Pong units to 2600 joysticks - and even Dan Kramer, who has signed a fair few autographs for other people all weekend, runs to get his early development model 2600. Nice machine, too - it even has speakers under the grille-like top surface of the console, an idea which was later abandoned for the production model. It's amazing how many of the celebrity alumni get in the autograph line with the regular guests.

When I get up there, I have nothing more elaborate than my Expo program booklet, and Nolan signs it quickly and, perhaps spotting me all but holding my breath after I say "Thanks for all you've done and thanks for coming," gets a chuckle out of me by launching into an autograph-page-filling, relatively elaborate sketch of one of his favorite early inventions while saying, "Here, let me draw you a little Pong there!" And here I thought the celebrity sketch work was the sole domain of the San Diego Comic-Con. I at least had the 2.3 active brain cells necessary to hand my digital camera off to Cav so he could snap a picture I'm going to keep around for my kids and grandkids. The day I met and talked to the guy who founded Atari and launched video games as big business.

After I retrieve my camera from Cav, I walk out of the room in a bit of a daze, only to find Kris and Mat telling me that they heard my name called in the latest Pinball Hall Of Fame raffle drawing. I walk in there, look for my name on the winner board, and see "Earl Green - cartridge of choice" - something which gets a big chuckle out of Kris, who points out that 90% of the selection consists of ultra-common 2600 carts like Warlords and Missile Command - but there are also commons in the pile that I actually don't have. Appropriately enough, I grab a copy of Video Pinball and cross my fingers for the Zaxxon machine (all "minor" prize winners are thrown back into the running for the big prize). Cav rounds up Classic Gamer Magazine alumni for the first ever group photo of the staff - it's the first time all of us, or at least most of us, have been in one place at one time. Cav has a hard time corralling Leonard Herman and Tim Snider for the occasion, so I use the delay to hit Atari2600.com's booth one more time for a Videopac cartridge (which I really hope works on my Odyssey², especially since it cost $30), Depth Charge / Marksman, and get back to the now-bare Good Deal Games booth for the CGM staff photo. (It's still too bad that there's no magazine to publish that in.) Michael Thomasson throws a mad amount of product at me as he's trying to clear the booth: one of the McDonald's Happy Meal Sega mini-games, a limited-edition promo GBA E-card, and other tiny treasures. And that's when the realization sets in - wacky deals are being closed all over the place. Merchandise is being boxed up. The booths are being broken down. And CGE 2003 is almost over.

Time for the big raffle - c'mon, lady luck, baby needs a new Zaxxon upright. I take a few photos of the crowd, talk shop with fellow videographer Wes Southern (a.k.a. "Raedon"), and then I hear a stunning announcement - LAURA TISDALE has won a PINBALL MACHINE! Laura's fellow Digital Press boardsters show up in droves to gaze upon her newfound loot - it's a mini-pinball game, a nice vintage piece but still tiny enough to fit in a shoebox with room to spare. As we all ooh and aah over Laura's mighty miniature marvel of pinball wizardry, someone else wins the coin-op raffle and picks Zaxxon. Figures. The good news is that over two grand has been raised for the Pinball Hall Of Fame. I feel better about my earlier daft attempts to reduce my own odds.

One last stop at Dan Kramer's booth for an autograph. Heck, the guy's been standing next to me for what seems like three days now, might as well. How I managed to fail to get Steve Woita's autograph - outside of the signed Clickum, that is, so all is not lost - escapes me. I did almost as lousy a job autograph-gathering as I did attending keynote panels. Fortunately, Mark got an Intellivision Productions poster signed for me by the programmers at that panel that I slept through (note to self: @#$%&!).

As I look around for one last coin-op to challenge, I realize they're being shut off and carted off too. The Museum doors close. Some booths and displays are already gone. I have just enough time to wheel and deal for a couple more Atari 8-bit games at the Digital Press booth (despite Ian's warning that this new haul includes one of the toughest versions of Joust out there). And then it's over.

A long round of goodbyes, handshakes, and even hugs follows. I really don't want to leave - but the sad truth is, I need to stop bugging everyone and let them pull down everything in their booths. I go upstairs for a little bit to relax, and then Mark and I walk through the Fremont Street Experience - which is all but its own self-contained tunnel - and then walk another block over to hop on a bus to hit the Strip once again and try to get Star Trek: The Experience right this time.

Fortunately, not that I had anything against them, but the actors from our dizzy visit to ST:TE on Saturday night aren't on duty Sunday, thus avoiding the "oh, it's him again..." phenomenon. Also, I'm only hauling my digital camera around this time, eliminating the whole "where do I stow my stuff?" fiasco. To a certain unavoidable extent, my second visit concentrates on looking around and trying to figure out how certain portions of the show are done, but I also try to relax a bit more - and there's a more lively crowd Sunday night. For the shuttle ride itself, I lift my feet up off the floor, and we're in a different simulator than we were in Saturday night (there are apparently two of the "shuttles"). This time, it works.

After that, Mark and I hit Quark's for dinner, which we aren't even finished eating when a Ferengi shows up to talk payment. Mark just hands him his wallet, while I explain that mine wouldn't do a Ferengi much good, as there's nothing in it. It's really quite amusing - whoever was being the Ferengi did a smashing job, and he has to - the person who gets to wear that makeup for the day pretty much has to be able to improv appropriately Ferengi-esque responses for every customer. Too bad the Klingon didn't show up too.

After that, Mark and I part ways - he's ready to hit the shuttlecraft ride again, and I'm ready to head back to the Plaza to pack up for the trip home. My airport shuttle is leaving early.