Everything I learned in life, I learned from Pacman

When I was in elementary school, arcade video games had more power than the space shuttle. Due to the complexity needed to build a machine such as Pacman, Zaxon, or Kung Fu, it seemed an impossibility that there would ever be a day where games would fit on cartridges. The only way to have these machines was to be rich like Ricky Schroder on 'Silver Spoons.' Since Nintendo seemed like a fantasy at this point, it would appear to be a good business idea to open an arcade in a town populated with children. Rent a space, jam a couple machines in, and watch as the neighborhood teenagers try to catch Blinkie stoned off their asses. As long as I could remember, there was a place called 'The Game Center' located in Westwood, New Jersey. It was the place to waste a summer afternoon improving your hand eye coordination. I would grab whatever loose change I could find in our sofa and ride my Ross over there daily.

I was too small to get in any trouble at The Game Center, but even as a boy I could tell there were some shady kids there. Sixth graders smoking outside. Sloppy making out behind Pole Position. Sadly, it was one of those places that quickly disappeared as technology advanced. While I was in high school, the space became a lawn mower repair shop. My mower was repaired where I once stood in the dark killing oncoming space aliens.

I drove past the place for the first time in years today. I am not sure if I was caught in some sort of time warp, but half the sign proudly displaying the word ‘Center’ was up, and the awnings had Pacman symbols on them just as it did in '83. Was The Game Center going to reopen? Not likely. The place looked vacant. Just some memories of simpler times peeking through the run down building.

New Jersey heritage at its finest!