About two years ago I was at what can best be described as a thrift store and, at worse, a rummage store full of cast-off clothing given to the local church. Out of morbid curiosity I meandered over to the 'electronics' section, amused by a few Indigo Girls' CDs and some educational games. I stopped dead then when I saw what can only be described as a diamond in a porta-potty: Final Fantasy VII. Right there, in front of me was something that I'd be aiming to get my hands on for most of my life, something that would cement my collections, that would up my...gamer cred (?). With breathless anticipation I carried the PS1 game like the Holy Grail, going so far as to glare an old lady out of my way (and out of the store). I brought it up to the counter, greeted by two women who would have remembered the advent of the computer (and the ballpoint pen) and who couldn't tell a Final Fantasy VII from a Franklin the Turtle Spelling Game and who happily sold it to me for five dollars. I might have lost my cool there by saying "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" out loud, but I smoothed it over by muttering "Praise Jesus." and such like. I figured I killed two birds with one stone: Having one of the most famous games ever and having a retirement plan as a teenager.