Hopefully, winning a lifetime achievement award is no indication that my lifetime is over!
Thank you to my dear, old mother, who confiscated my Nintendo Entertainment System when I (always) misbehaved, who patiently typed "pick up the carrot" into King's Quest as I directed her, and who bought me an Intel 80486 computer to mollify my incessant begging. My mother is truly deserving of first-ballot induction into the Mom Hall Of Fame.
Thank you to Gerard Wiener, who believed in me, mentored me, and who never confiscated my Nintendo Entertainment System when I (always) misbehaved. Innovation simply cannot happen without full and unflappable organizational support, and, no matter how way-way-out-there my dreams and schemes, Gerard signed the checks without blinking.
Thank you to the amazing writers and publishers out there who have given me so much editorial love over the years: Anybody who thinks press doesn't matter isn't thinking at all.
Most-of-all: Thank you to all of the wonderful creative, technical, and business people who have led, followed, and marched alongside me over the years. Your ranks are legion and to name some would be a disservice to hundreds of others - each of you have been invaluable to my growth as a game developer.
And thank you in particular to the awesome people over at Pocket Gamer for inducting me into the Hall of Fame. You always hear at awards shows, "it's nice to be recognized," which is total codswallop: Unfortunately, there is no word in the English language to describe the indelibly positive rush of emotion that comes from having your life's work recognized by your industry. (Well, there is "alate," but, like most people, I don't know what that means, and I'm still kinda iffy on the definition of "codswallop.")