Terry was, I'm sure, a kind and courteous man, and clearly much loved, but his one-word answers and snippy response to our "questionnaire" suggested that he only replied in order to tell us how doing so was beneath him.
I've never quite let that go. Maybe we caught him on a bad day or something, but his tone had reminded me of the time I'd sent a poem (yes, yes, alright - let's all laugh at the poetry sap) to the editor of a poetry anthology. He'd sent back a handwritten letter of unfiltered abuse, accusing me of being a liar for "so clearly pretending to be a 14 year-old boy in order to get published".
I was 14 at the time, so excuuuse me for being a junior Ted Hughes.
Alas, we had nothing back from Tucker Jenkins or Gary Glitter, but we did get a reply from Al Lowe, the creator of the Leisure Suit Larry games...
I'd been a fan of his cheeky, nudge-nudge/wink-wink adventures on the Atari ST, so it was a genuine honour. I loved Al Lowe. I loved him for being so needlessly gracious to a couple of idiot boys writing a little games page on teletext - the scrag end of the media lamb.
And until yesterday, I'd forgotten entirely that I'd also loved Sierra On-Line, publisher of the Leisure Suit Larry games. Which is a bit like forgetting that you had a six-year relationship with a ham basket.
See, yesterday, when I was researching the Ghostbusters games feature, I stumbled upon mention of Sierra, and it all came flooding back. How could I have forgotten Sierra? How?! For years I was borderline obsessed with them.
That stylised mountain logo would give me a thrill whenever I got one of their games. Those big cardboard boxes, the instruction manual... these elements became part of the experience as much as the game they were wrapped around.
Sierra is just another part of Activision these days, having changed hands multiple times over the years. Somehow, I had no idea, until about 30 seconds ago, that the brand was used as recently as 2014, for the release of Geometry Wars 3. And I played Geometry Wars 3 quite a bit.
But then, Geometry Wars 3 is about as far from what I used to love about Sierra as you can get, so you'll forgive me for not making the connection. The company - at various points known as Sierra Entertainment, Sierra On-line, and, originally, On-Line Systems - was famed for its graphic adventures.
It had been founded in 1979 by Ken and Roberta Williams. Early successes included Mystery House, a couple of games based upon the movie The Dark Crystal, and the saucier-sounding-than-it-actually-was Softporn Adventure (the later Leisure Suit Larry was essentially a remake of Softporn Adventure, utilising its puzzles, but with added humour).
In 1984 the company released the game that put it on the map: King's Quest. Which I never played. For some reason I never played the subsequent umpteen King's Quest games either. If I'm honest, the fact that they were heavily billed as being written by "Roberta Williams" - an actual smelly girl - might've put me off. I thought they'd be all fairies and ponies galloping through woodland glades, and princesses talking about their feelings, and that.
But I did play Space Quest III, and that was the point at which I fell in love with Sierra. And I must've come to the Sierra party late, because by the time I started getting into their games, there were loads of them. It was like picking a 50p coin off the floor, to find ten £1 coins beneath it.
Something I miss as I get older is that feeling of discovery.
Finding a band I like, or a movie series, or - in the case of Sierra - a games company, and ploughing through its back catalogue.
Space Quest was the distinctly tongue-in-cheek story of Roger Wilco, a hapless space janitor, who becomes an unwitting hero. When I'd finished Space Quest III, I already had another two Space Quest games to play.
From there I went on to Leisure Suit Larry - the first time that sex, video games and farting had ever intersected on my radar - and the Police Quest series. The latter followed the life and career of Sonny Bonds - a traffic cop who gets embroiled in the hunt for a serial killer. Like Sierra's other games, there was something so appealing about its lo-fi graphics, its gentle humour, and considered pace. There was an innocence about it, even as it clearly took inspiration from Lethal Weapon.
Thinking about it now, I kind of get why so many of you want those original Digitiser graphics to make a return; the garish hues and chunky resolution of Space Quest, Police Quest and Leisure Suit Larry were part of their charm. It kind of rooted the player in a world that was our world... but also apart from it.
Consequently, my interest in Sierra's games began to wane as the graphics and gameplay became more complex and realistic. Open Season - the fourth Police Quest game - deviated dramatically from its slightly cheesy, soap opera-y, predecessors. From there Police Quest morphed into SWAT - an interactive movie series - and I lost interest entirely.
Similarly, the later Leisure Suit Larry games, Space Quest... they were looking prettier and prettier, but I missed the otherworldly charm of their pixellated beginnings. I didn't want my Sierra games to be slick simulations, or homicide procedurals. I wanted them to be funny, quirky, and lo-fi.
It seems others agreed with me.
The last game that Sierra released as an independent company was Phantasmagoria - a Stephen King-esque horror tale, that was every inch a product of the full-motion video-obsessed times.
With its graphic gore and sexual themes - a young woman is choked to death with a garden trowel, and another has her boobs brushed - it was a far cry from the company's earlier products.
Imagine if Coldplay released a death metal album called Satan Hammers Flaming Crucifix Up Own Bum And We Hate Everyone. That's what it was like.
Though the ensuing and inevitable controversy ensured it sold well, critics weren't kind - and the last of Sierra's faithful fans drifted away, as if they'd just witnessed Chris Martin wiping his dirty drips on a cymbal.
Sierra was sold in early 1996, but its new owners didn't seem to know what to do with it. There was a new Leisure Suit Larry game in 2002, though it lacked the bawdy, Carry On-esque, sledgehammer nuance of earlier instalments.
From there, Sierra continued to drift, releasing a handful of lacklustre games, and hopping from one new owner to another. Its most recent release was a largely forgotten episodic reimagining of King's Quest, in 2015.
How I fell in and out of love with Sierra's games has kind of coincided with me thinking about Digitiser in a slightly different way.
As you'll have probably noticed, I've been tinkering with teletext graphics in recent weeks, as preparation for October's Block Party event (tickets, please).
I also received this email from concerned reader Glyn Heaviside: "Do you find that the teletext format has an effect on your writing? Does the old tech bring back old inspiration etc? Could just be nostalgia talking but teletext pages seem immediately funnier to me. Juxtaposition of content to medium perhaps."
My immediate reaction to reading that was to feel a little stung - the unspoken implication that I'm not funny anymore. But yeah. Deep down, I know that Digitiser was my "Beatles". It was a perfect storm of personnel, environment, technology, and me at a certain age. A very happy accident. Everything I've done since has been a Ringo Starr solo album by comparison.
I'm a different person now. I think I'm a better, smarter, funnier writer now... as those later Sierra games were undoubtedly more polished, better looking, better written. But I didn't want to know those later games. They weren't my Sierra games. They lacked that charm, that approachable, lo-fi... je ne sais quoi.
And Digi probably had that too. I dare say, much as I'd consider playing a new old-looking Police Quest, that's part of the appeal of the new old-looking Digi ads I've been doing.
The constraints of the medium working in a certain way with my brain, and the end result working in a certain way with your brain. There'll be more old-school Digi going forward (because I like doing it), and sad as it may be to consider that I'm not just some all-encompassing genius, who can turn anything he touches into a phenomenon, it would be wrong of me to try to recapture past glories, and ignore where I am at now.
Well, alright. "Wrong" is subjective.
But it doesn't feel right to me, because it wouldn't be honest. Nostalgia is a powerful thing, and a wonderful escape in these dank and gloomy times. It's a nice place to visit, but I don't think I ever want to live there. Digitiser was the best we could do with the technology available. If I were to do the whole of this site in a Digitiser style it would be nothing more than a facsimile.
And yet it's okay to still hanker after what it was - and I get it. Games are better now than they've ever been, but I don't think I'll ever again love one as much as I loved those early adventures from Sierra On-Line.
HOW SAYING GOODBYE TO DIGITISER BROKE MY HEART - BY MR BIFFO
GAMES OF MY YEARS: SONIC THE HEDGEHOG - BY MR BIFFO
GAMES OF MY YEARS: FOOTBALL - BY MR BIFFO