and Words
I got a pocket full of quarters, and I’m headed to the arcade.
I don’t have a lot of money, but I’m bringing ev’rything I made.
I’ve got a callus on my finger, and my shoulder’s hurting too.
I’m gonna eat them all up, just as soon as they turn blue.
‘Cause I’ve got Pac-Man fever;
Pac-Man fever.
It’s driving me crazy.
Driving me crazy.
Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.
This was me circa 1983; I won’t deny it. I lived near the Grand Prix Race-O-Rama; they claimed that they were the World’s Largest Arcade. I spent more hours at Grand Prix that I care to admit; it embarrasses me to this day. I wasn’t able to drive then, so I either got a ride from my sister or rode my bicycle there. When I did the latter, it took me the better part of an hour but did it happily.
Once there, it was my refuge; it was this fifteen-year-old’s Nirvana. It housed multiple gigantic rooms with stand-up arcade games that lined the walls packed tightly, separated by only inches. The centers of each room were outfitted with row upon row of cocktail table versions of the same arcade games. The rooms were illuminated by the glow from each screen as each game was played or they continued in ‘point of sale’ mode. The sound on each arcade game was configured so that you could near it, but it didn’t overwhelm anyone else’s playing. The effect was that the entire room was bathed in kaleidoscope of lights from these screens and their sound effects. Their combination was both never precisely the same, but it was always there and always consistent. It became the soundtrack to my teenage years in a twisted way.
Continue reading “Becoming the master of my own world, in 25¢ increments”