My mother didn’t own a washer and dryer for most of my childhood. During a considerable stretch of that time my grandparents’ set was broken and they didn’t rush having them fixed or replaced. All our laundry days were spent at the laundromat, and I had both a job and a goal when I went with them.
It was my job to carry in the baskets of dirty clothes, help load them into the washers and dryers, and assist folding them once they were done.
When there was downtime, I was allowed to spend a few dollars in the laundromat’s game room. It contained a pool table, a few pinball machines, a tabletop Pac-Man, and usually one arcade cabinet.
For a while that cabinet was Ms. Pac-Man, then it was Kangaroo. After that it was Centipede, which eventually got replaced by Dig Dug. My older sister Ann had a reputation for setting unbeatable high scores on all of them, so my goal was to topple her grand marks.
I was especially driven to surpass her on Dig Dug because it became, and still is, my favorite arcade game. The premise is to dig around underground and pump air into odd-looking enemies until they burst like a balloon. You can drop rocks on their heads too, and if you dropped two a bonus fruit or vegetable would appear.
With each stage cleared you’re awarded a small flower. After clearing 10 stages those small flowers are swapped for one big one.
It was infuriating to watch Ann claim up to 2 of those big flowers while racking up absurd points. I felt like a bottle of carbonated competitive juice that had been violently shaken. Her achievements pressured me.
I plunked quarter after quarter in a bubbled attempt to beat Ann’s high score and get those big flowers. I knew my time and funds were limited so my sense of urgency was borderline panic. As my heart, my coins, and the clock raced, and I underachieved repeatedly, I fell more in love with playing Dig Dug.
That affection made it one of the greatest video games ever! |THIS ENT
[By Mr. Joe Walker]
