Rambling about Arcade Games

Melanie is on the other side of the world.  I have no counterpart for my idle banter, so I might as well spill it all here.

I'm watching American Idol and getting beaten down by blind Scott and tattoo Megan.  I'm seriously contemplating turning it off at this point.   Ugh.  

Anyway, I had a momentary thought about old school arcade games.   I loved arcade games when I was a kid.   I can remember dropping quarters into Pong and Space Invaders when they were first introduced, and we all know where it went from there.

Then I wondered what my top five might be.  Should be pretty easy to figure that out.   Then I took it a little further and wondered what the top 5 would be based on how much I spent on them.   Why not?  Couldn't be too hard to estimate, but it might be a little embarassing.   Call it a cautionary tale for all young reality-escapists like me.

1. Tempest:  I loved this game.  It was an after-school ritual for long long time.   Let's say 4 days a week for 4 months, plus some weekends at 20 games a session.  (4 * 4 * 20) = $320
2. Dragon's Lair:  What?  A laserdisc video game?  I pummeled this thing with quarters, but the attraction didn't last long thank goodness.  2 months, 5 days a week, let's say 30 games.  $300
3. Pac-Man:   I played this as part of a group project with my Lake Country buddies.   We got to some of the higer levels, but I personally never reached the pinnacle where all the wacky stuff started happening.   Dollar amount is pretty low since you get a lot of play for a quarter.   Let's say 10 games a day for a whole summer.   That's 900 games, total:  $225
4. Galaga:  Picked up this addiction in college.  Another game that gave you a ton of play for a quarter.  Sure beat studying.  Let's say 20 games a week for couple of months.  $160
5. Donkey Kong:  Not sure why this one appealed to me so much, but it was fun and convenient, right by the school.  2 months, 3 days a week, 20 games.  $120

Honorable mentions:  Popeye, Journey (wtf?), Pole Position, Joust, Xevious.    

Not sure what to take away from this.  I sure wish I had this $1130 back I could build a sweet M.A.M.E. machine.   Maybe I'll do it anyway!

Guitar Zeros

At lunch today, we happened to be sitting right outside an electronics shop that had a Guitar Hero box on display.  Melanie mentioned that she was surprised I wasn't into it.    The logic seemed simple:  I like guitars, I like music, it should be a natural right?  

I actually had to think about it for a minute.  It was true that I didn't have the slightest inclination towards the game.   Part of that might be that the craze had just gained momentum as we were leaving the States.   But I did play it once at a friend's house and was left unimpressed.   Why?

It's simple.   Guitar Hero players have spent a whole lot of time and money in order to develop a completely worthless skill.    Well, I guess it's not worthless if our goal is to someday replace robots with humans.   

Instead of teaching the brain how to be musical, appreciate nuances in volume and tone, and learn the dexterity it takes to be expressive with an instrument -- these kids (and adults too) are learning nothing but coordination and how to mimic patterns with robotic efficiency.  The music is a soundtrack, not a by-product.   Now that I've put this into words, it's actually downright scary.

I'll be much more impressed by a kid who has learned how to bar the chords to "Smoke on the Water" than some neo-cyborg that can score 99% on level 99 with the difficulty set to Ludicrous.

Now I can extrapolate all this as an indication of the downfall of culture, instant gratification, zero work ethic society, etc., etc...   But honestly the most troubling idea of all is:

When these kids get to college, are they really going to pick up chicks with air guitar skills?

Goodbye Dubai - or Maybe Not?

Sorry for the dry spell, folks. I think we've developed something of a FaceBook habit, and are spending all our free time poring over elementary school pictures. I'm sure this too shall pass.

In the meantime, here is a fantastically written article about the fate of Dubai. However, the real gems are in the comments.

How many guys does it take to replace a window?

The answer is precisely 10.

Here's one for all you global warming nay-sayers

Snow in the UAE gives new meaning to the phrase "no words to describe".

Apparently there is no word for snow in the local dialect.

The Inuit should lend them one, they have extra.

Long Live ABBA

Today, I mourn ABBA, whose music has been ripped unmercifully out of my life.

I have been a lifelong fan, as their music was a soundtrack to my childhood. Plus, their songs had that rare magic that granted them staying power across the decades. At least until menacing outside influences put a stop to them. But before I get into that, I feel like I might have to defend my former love of the band. It’s a little secret of mine that I’ve grown more comfortable with over the years. Indeed, it was one of the first things I confessed to Mel in the flurry of emails before our first date. When I was working neighborhood water meters in Las Vegas, prowling the streets dirty and unshaven, the citizens had no idea that it was more likely to be Super Trooper blasting in my headphones than Judas Priest or Lynyrd Skynrd as they probably assumed. And, when Mel and I celebrated our upcoming nuptials at the Armadillo in Vegas, and the band asked me to perform a special solo routine to Dancing Queen... I gladly complied, but only because it was ABBA.

ABBA was ruined for me in a way that has only happened once before in my life. The other incident involved Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody, a perfect song that I will probably never listen to again. When I was in college Bohemian Rhapsody was typically reserved as the last song of a drunken get-together. We would all gather around our crazy friend Jason, who would perform some sort of dance-skit-conductor routine which never failed to entertain. I would have preferred to replay that memory every time I hear that song. I love you Mike Myers, but I damn your eternal soul to Hell for killing that memory.

That stupid scene from the movie Wayne’s World replaced it. The one they used in the trailers, where the cast are in the Garthmobile jamming to the ending. Maybe it hit too close to home, seeing a bunch of dorks head bang to Brian May and Freddy Mercury in exactly the same way we used to. Or maybe it was just funny enough to stay stuck in my brain. Whatever the reason, the song lost its long history of personal magic for me. Jason’s silly routines have been cheapened, along with that feeling of hanging out in my sister Nancy’s room, poring over every inch of A Night at the Opera like it was the secret to everything. Thanks Mike. Nice job you jerk. At least I have the rest of the songs on that album left in my head.

For ABBA, of course, it was the recent movie Mamma Mia. A year of shock therapy will not erase the memory of Meryl Streep and Pierce Brosnan’s renditions of my beloved songs. Mr. Brosnan may be an adequate representation of James Bond, but he had no right to use his dying-dog-barf voice to reproduce ABBA. His voice, coupled with the 108-minute barrage of total gayness that was Mamma Mia has left a void in my musical soul.

I blame myself. These little decisions in life -- such as selecting a movie that you know will be horrible, watching it anyway, and continuing to watch as little bits of your happiness are systematically zapped – have lasting consequences. I should have known better, and next time I will.

Using a jackhammer in sandals

I thought mowing the lawn in bare feet was dangerous...