Tons of interest on this site, it sure is! I sorta get that feeling in here that I get at our local Harley dealership. I see guys at parties in the lot on weekends sporting expensive rides, talking about cubic this and that. I see new parts removed for flashy chrome at huge expenses. I see new Harley jackets and boots, beerbellies on professionals like Dr's, lawyers, etc. I sigh, I ride quickly and quietly back to fellow comrades, folks still riding original panheads, knuckleheads, etc. There we remember, we chew the rag about the good ole days when riding a harley was considered anti-establishment, bad boyism. Sigh.....folks used to look down at a 1% er, now....they try as hard as they can to emulate us. Granted, I'm a crotchety ole man....poser no, imagine that, me using the word "poser."
I am quite cocky, most Leos are! I will spit this out in the forum...if ya picked drink bottles out of ditches and walked miles to fetch em, you can partner with me anytime. Ya can because I respect you! Ya did not have a pinball machine in the basement, or a dad that handed ya a ten spot to visit a local arcade. Instead, you sold everything ya could to neighbors, running cedar, firewood, holly, grit newspapers, and labor. Ya cleaned gutters, cut grass, you did not get an allowance...and "Ya picked up returnable soda pop bottles for a penny each to hastily deposit it in the closest pinball machine ya could find!
Maybe you went to college and saw pins in the lounges, or local bars, truckstops as a young man.....but...you noticed how far back the others were. None could really compete at your levels...ahhhh...xcept that scruffy redhead who lived by the hair if his head...that poor kid who lived down the lane. A partner...finally, a partner!
This post is not meant to attack younger pinbots and middle aged passionates. One day in your sixties and older I hope you write a similiar post as I think by then you might feel like I do now. My guess is...many feel some pinball pains...like....where did the chrome look go, the glass backglass, the wooden playfield painted, the hefty coin door and thick head, the analog flipper switch, ahhh sex without condoms, the open playfields, the non metallic sound when the ball strikes something, the frothing store owners griping, the gambling, And lastly, " The race to ten!" In my hood the only way to claim bragging rights was to play heads up until one player or the other had a ten game lead.
That's a freakn competition! The longest I ever played was 36 hours with minimal breaks!
Chalk up this post to the old farts club.....but.....ya do not want to play us on a classic game....muhahaha!
