Remember pinball machines? I’m sure there are still some around, but nowhere nearly as many as when I was a child. The thing about pinball machines was they were a bit disreputable because some people were known to gamble on them! In this era it seems sort of quaint to worry about the nickels and dimes that probably changed hands but it was a different time and place.
Pinball machines could be found in gas stations, cafes, and bars. In my childhood memory they usually had some young males gathered around. They were at the age where they wanted to appear macho and somehow pinball machines, in their minds, accomplished that goal. As I remember they typically wore black jeans, motorcycle type boots, and tight white tee shirts. They had too much Brylcreem in their mullets and, most importantly, they had a pack of cigarettes, usually Winstons, tucked in one upturned sleeve. They talked about hotrods and motorcycles and muttered curse words when they jiggled the machine too hard and caused it to “tilt”, thus ending the game. It was a sub-culture that to a young child’s eyes seemed a bit intimidating. We old folks remember a young actor named James Dean who had that sort of image.
I suppose nowadays the same sort of sub-culture still exists but is played out over the more violent video games. If that’s true, they’ve lost the public stage on which to act out their adolescent fantasies of being slightly dangerous.
Young people always try on different personas to see how it feels to be this or that sort of character. It often seems sort of silly to adults to watch while we hope that particular phase will pass quickly.
If months were adolescents March would be the epitome of annoying persona costumes. March can’t decide whether to be nasty or benign, cold and annoying or warm and welcoming. We all just want the annoying phase to disappear so we can begin planning gardens, doing grilling in the backyard, anything requiring warm temperatures without cold howling winds coming out of the canyon and making things miserable.
I knew a lady who, at some point in January or February always put a packet of flower seeds in her purse. It didn’t matter that it would be months before she could hope to plant them. What mattered to her was what it represented. She liked the constant reminder that winter would pass and she could, once again, enjoy flowers blooming in her yard.
Sometimes we all need a talisman, a packet of flower seeds, something to remind ourselves that whatever the annoying situation we’re currently enduring isn’t forever. We’ll get past it to better days. The vast majority of folks are good people and once the current nastiness passes we can all enjoy life a bit more.
Even we adults sometime need to remember that we aren’t playing out adolescent fantasies. We really don’t have to continue to pretend we’re rebellious, angry and slightly dangerous.
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