by Brian Ashcraft

It started with a: "There's a foreigner! Let's talk to him."

A man in a khaki jumpsuit motions for me to come over. He's flanked by a camera man and a sound guy. He's waving at me and grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Come here."

Nagoya. Home of the Toyota Motor Company, and where everyone drives either a Toyota or a Toyota. It's 8:30 am or thereabouts. In front of some convention hall down by the port. Already been up for five hours to make the necessary road trip. And I'm not alone. I'm in a line with a couple hundred Nintendo DSes and assorted people holding them. And everyone else is bitching about the chilly weather.

The drive from Osaka to Nagoya is a straight shot down the Meishin Expressway, plus a series of tolls that puts the 2 and a half hour trip over $100 easy. Still, we're up at half past three, out the door by four. Still dark. Neither wife, nor kid sleep in the car. Son talks incessantly about the Wii, calling amusingly and incorrectly "Nintendo no Wii" in Japanese. Try to explain to him that it's just the "Nintendo Wii," but his mind is made up. It needs the possessive "no."

Somewhere in Shiga Prefecture, the sun starts to burn off the morning mist that lingers in the mountains. The leaves are just on the cusp of turning, and it's feels like it could either be fall or early spring when things are still fuzzy and not quite yet defined.

Confession: I have yet to play the Wii. Two years ago at TGS, I held a Wii-mote prototype. Nintendo honcho Satoru Iwata pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to me. It was heavy, and there was an LED light. And at this year's E3, while most of the gaming press got up close and personal with the Wii, I saw a lot of the press room.

"Do you speak Japanese?" the jumpsuit guy asks in English.
"Yes," I reply.
He switches and starts with a "Let's talk about the Wii."
"You mean 'us'."
Wow. Corny. Even in Japanese. Strike that, especially in Japanese.
"What are you looking forward to today?" Jumpsuit asks.
"The Wii."
"What about the Wii?"
"It's different from other consoles."
"But, abroad PC gaming is more popular," Jumpsuit offers.
"Like in Korea and China?"
"No, America."

Yeah? Missed that memo. Thanks for the heads up, dude.

"I wouldn't say that," I counter. "I'd say the opposite. That console gaming is more popular."
"In America, the 360 is very popular." he continues.

Where is this going?

"That's true."
"And, of course, American games are very different."

Now, this gentleman is wearing a jumpsuit. A slightly ridiculous one at that. My assumption: He must be a comedian. Not a newscaster. Comedians wear dumb clothes. Newscasters, suits. And he's not a very good comedian, I gather, because he's not making jokes. He's dead serious.

"First-Person-Shooters are more popular, sure."
Okay, Ashcraft, you're being way too polite.
"The 360 isn't so popular in Japan," points out Jumpsuit. His breath smells of coffee.
Uh, alright.
"No, it isn't."
Still playing nice.
"Are you going to buy a Wii?" he inquires.
No, I'm not, because I am a PC gaming American, right?
"Yep. And a PS3."
"And a PS3?" He seemed startled. Confused even. "But there aren't many of those. Is that your girlfriend?"
"It's my wife. And this is my son." My kid's been standing next to me the entire time. Kid looks at Jumpsuit and shakes his head.
"Oh."

The line pushes forward. It's a few minutes after nine, and my kid has his face pressed up against the glass. We're in the entry way. There's a sign that says no photography and no food. Wii Staff (people in Wii jackets) pass out handbooks. And a handbook and tote bag later, we're in.

While the Wii was in full force, "Nintendo" is remarkably absent. The letters w-i-i dominate and permeate through the entire hall. Everywhere you look, there they are, w-i-i. That's the draw. And Nintendo World 2006's goal is simple: Wii. The layout is straightforward with playable kiosks with lines. And space! Even when full, there was also a line that was short and a demo that could be quickly played. The main area is all Wii Sports. Moving right, there are games you'd think would be popular and are: Dragon Quest, Twilight Princess and Super Mario Galaxy. Within minutes, the wait for Twilight Princess clocks in at three hours. And by 11 o'clock, the line will be closed for the day as the wait time would spill over into way after the event closes.

The press are all wearing red armbands that read "PRESS." I'm not. There's an information counter, where I could register and get one, but I've elected not to. Making myself prey for TV interviews. Two tall foreigners pin their PRESS badges one. One is holding a large digital camera and has sunglasses pushed up in his blonde hair. The other one is wearing glasses and holding a notepad.

Any news that breaks, these guys will get it up in a jiff. There has been rumors that there was a new Super Smash Brothers' character, then rumors that that rumor was incorrect—a mistranslation. Not new characters, but new footage of old characters! All has been long forgotten and such is the internet.

Moving through the crowd, traffic is light. The place is hopping, but its a controlled hopping. This is what E3 should be. It's about the games, the system and not a circus. There are booth companions, but they are precisely that—companions, as in they help you play the game and wipe off the Wii-mote when you're not. They're not even especially cute, but tastefully plain in an unassuming way. And all wearing different white shoes. All personal artifacts from home, most likely.

There's a complete lack of video game-ness. Everything is white and slick. There aren't even people in Nintendo cosplay.

That's when I see Katamari. Again. She's pushing a cart of stuff through the throng and moving in a blur. See, there's this girl in Osaka. She goes to all the game shows and events, dressed as Katamari. And here she is, hundreds of kilometers away in Nagoya, dressed as Link. With a tiny Katamari doll.

My wife wants to play Wii Sports. Tennis. We line up, wait the allotted time and we're ushered to a kiosk.

"Is the child going to play?" the booth companion asks.
"No. He's gonna watch."
"He can't stand in the play area."
"And why?"

The booth companion shoots her hand up! And looks around for help. Light Blue Wii Staff Jackets pass, and she desperately tries to get their attention.

"Excuse me," I say, flagging one down.

Quick recap of the situation, the Light Blue Wii Jacket nods quickly and impatiently. There's an earpiece in his ear. "He can stand there. Just watch the kid, okay?" he says and darts off, scribbling on a clipboard. My first Wii hands-on hasn't even started and already a bad taste in my mouth. Swell.

We start. My wife picks it up super quick. I'm slower (surprise, huh?), but get it. And we're playing. And it's tennis. And it's fun.

"How was that?" a woman appears. She also has a camera crew, but isn't wearing a stupid jumpsuit. Rather, smart, business type threads.

"Good." I say.
Camera in my face.
"For the whole family, right?"
"Not really. We only had two controllers."
Jeez, somebody's bitchy.
"What did you think?" she asks my wife.
"It was fun. For adults, too." my wife adds.
Thatta girl!

We're in another line. Third party titles. My kid wants to play a driving game. The lines for the third party games are super short, and I'm able to get quick hands-on with a smattering of titles. In all fairness, it's hard to write substantial impressions that stretch beyond "cool" or "meh." It's a bit like reviewing a movie trailer or a book jacket. Though, the one thing I did take away is that brain games or study type games don't translate well to the Wii. At all.

There's a contest out front. A hundred Wiis are being given away, and my wife is convinced we're gonna win. Heading towards the exit, we pass Jumpsuit, standing in line to check out the Virtual Console, and Katamari, posing next to the Twilight Princess display. The foreign camera guys have their backs to the rolling camera. That news reporter has long left.

Outside. There's a bulletin board and a Light Blue Jacket calling out winner numbers that appear on the sheet stuffed in our three tote bags. A guy in a White Wii Staff jacket checks his sheet to see if he gets a freebie to take home. The jacket is nice. A console, nicer.

All three of our numbers come up short and we stuff the sheets and ourselves in the car. It's a long way back to Osaka, and my wife talks incessantly about the Wii right up until we get to Gifu prefecture, where dusk sends her into a deep slumber. Over Gershwin piped through the stereo, I can hear the faint sound of her breathing.

Contact information for this author is not available.