Hummingbirds at the Machines
I know I have mentioned Japanese arcades already but today I actually stepped into one of these dens of sensory debauchery. Walking into these places, and please pardon my uncouth simile, is like a prison gang rape of all five sense. Your eyes are assaulted by thousands of multicolored blinking lights and flashing large screens with game graphics looking better then actual reality. Your nose is assaulted by cigarette smoke mingling with the smell from the restaurants wafting in from outside. Your ears are assaulted by beeps and buzzes and hoots and howls and Japanese cartoon characters with high pitched voices screaming things at octaves impossible to Maria Callas. You sense of taste is assaulted again by the smoke as the cloud is so thick in the room that you can taste the nicotine filled wisps floating around you. And, finally, should you open your coin purse up and pop a few into these large earsplitting blinking money cash consumers let’s hope you have powerful fingers and flexible wrists because your hands will be assaulted by buttons, sticks and levers of all shapes and sizes.
My arcade days have passed. There is no way I would be able to keep up with these Japanese gamers. Their speed is unbelievable. Really, you cannot see their arms move, all is a blur. They are like hummingbirds on these machines. The most popular games had to do with either dancing or playing some mock instrument to rapid beats. Fight games also were well populated and graphics have come a long way since Street Fighter. The button combos to pull off the moves are just impossible for my primitive gaming skills to comprehend. You have to be double jointed to pull some of this shit off!
There in the back of the place was a lonely machine much smaller then the others. The screen was not one of those wide 30 inch LCDs and the sound was hardly audible within the arcade cacophony. It’s low mono beeps were like the final gasping breaths of a dying man. I recognized this game and in it’s time this machine was legend. I brushed away the cobwebs and ran my hands over the paddle and the games only two buttons. If you listened close enough you could swear the machine was crying. It was nice to see you here, old friend. Tetris I remember you well. 
