Pinball
I hit a few bars last night and ended up at one drinking a Sessions lager and playing pinball.
It was a Lord of the Rings-themed machine, with loads of bells and whistles and it had the feature that lets you load balls into launchers so when you hit the right combination of targets, all the balls release and for a while, you’re playing three or four balls simultaneously.
I enjoyed myself while it lasted, which—at five games of three balls for a dollar—was long enough for me to finish my beer, anyway.
And I was reminded that I think pinball’s pretty cool; I’m glad to see it’s weathered the onslaught of videogames and that new machines like the one I played—though somewhat more complicated than I prefer—are being produced.
The first pinball machine that really hooked me was a baseball-themed one at a pizza joint called Terry Villa near my elementary school. I think you got three games for a quarter, five balls a game. I’m sure I spent my lunch money there many times.
One of the high points of our family’s trip to Europe when I was eleven was finding 10 free games on one of the machines in the kid’s arcade on the ship we sailed over, the SS Rotterdam.
In college, my friend Chuck Hartley and I used to get stoned and play a game called Fireball for hours. I seem to recall that at a certain point, the machine would announce its title, and we’d chime in, “Fireball,” too.
When Jen and I lived in Aix-en-Provence for a month in 1988, I spent hours in a smoky bar playing a Tommy-themed machine; it was easier than making conversation.
For all of this, I remain a mediocre player; I can balance a ball on the flippers and aim fairly consistently, but I’ve still never mastered the trick to stop one from draining right down the middle.
Tilt.
It was a Lord of the Rings-themed machine, with loads of bells and whistles and it had the feature that lets you load balls into launchers so when you hit the right combination of targets, all the balls release and for a while, you’re playing three or four balls simultaneously.
I enjoyed myself while it lasted, which—at five games of three balls for a dollar—was long enough for me to finish my beer, anyway.
And I was reminded that I think pinball’s pretty cool; I’m glad to see it’s weathered the onslaught of videogames and that new machines like the one I played—though somewhat more complicated than I prefer—are being produced.
The first pinball machine that really hooked me was a baseball-themed one at a pizza joint called Terry Villa near my elementary school. I think you got three games for a quarter, five balls a game. I’m sure I spent my lunch money there many times.
One of the high points of our family’s trip to Europe when I was eleven was finding 10 free games on one of the machines in the kid’s arcade on the ship we sailed over, the SS Rotterdam.
In college, my friend Chuck Hartley and I used to get stoned and play a game called Fireball for hours. I seem to recall that at a certain point, the machine would announce its title, and we’d chime in, “Fireball,” too.
When Jen and I lived in Aix-en-Provence for a month in 1988, I spent hours in a smoky bar playing a Tommy-themed machine; it was easier than making conversation.
For all of this, I remain a mediocre player; I can balance a ball on the flippers and aim fairly consistently, but I’ve still never mastered the trick to stop one from draining right down the middle.
Tilt.
posted by Professor Dave at 3:43 PM
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