Before Playstation 3’s and Xboxes, the only way to play a video game was to get on your bikes and go to a place that had dozens of tall wooden cabinets that also housed a array of circuits, micro chip processors and electronic wiring. Back in 1981 or 1982, we would go to a small local business called Kathy’s Arcade. To remember Kathy’s Arcade is to remember a piece of 1980s culture and technology.
It was an average day. School was out and it was around 3:30 in the afternoon. C——— and I rode our bikes to his house and figured we just hang out and watch TV. A few months prior his family had purchased the new Atari 2600. Oh, I so envied that Atari 2600. So we started to play the 2600. He had all the classic games too: Breakout, Centipede, and Yar’s Revenge. Unfortunately, I would never get an Atari 2600. I would get the Coleco Gemini system-an Atari clone-for Christmas ‘82. I would enjoy it just as much as C——— did his 2600 but I was still the kid that did not have an Atari system but the knock off. I mother bought it from Sears and it came with the game Donkey Kong. My grandmother would even enjoy playing the DK.
Yet, even the 2600 failed at being ultra cool. The best video games were the big console games down at the arcades. Games like Karate Champ, Joust and Tron were just a few that had superior graphics and game play. The closet arcade was a place called Kathy’s Arcade.
It was that afternoon way back in 1982 that C——— and I desired to go to Kathy’s Arcade. Yet, we didn’t have any money. C——— insisted it was no problem. He knew of his parents emergency money fund. He disappeared to the back of the house and reappeared about five minutes later. With his return, he showed off the crisp $20 bill he now was shoving into his pocket. Now that we had come into a small fortune, we ran outside and hopped on our bikes and peddled toward Kathy’s
Kathy’s Arcade was a small stuffy business on the corner of Main and Poe, a few blocks away from C———’s house. Once inside, it was a utopia of beeps and bleeps, 8-bit synthesized music, and cigarette smoke and billiards tables. The front of the establishment was the home of 12 pool tables. In the center was a small bar and concession area. Next to the concession was the beloved token machine. The machine ate $1 and $5 bills and spit out small brass tokens. C——— pulled the $20 bill from his pocket and traded it for four $5 bills from Kathy. Exchanging the five dollar bills for 30 tokens—cling, cling, cling— it was off to the back half of Kathy’s Arcade. The back half was the area shrouded in darkness with over 20 arcade games. Flashing screens, the sounds of beeps and bings, the room was a casino for children yet there were no payouts—unless you count the hours of entertainment.
Kathy’s Arcade was owned and operated by a grouchy old lady named Kathy (who’d thunk, huh?) She was a lady that had a Marlboro face, heavy lines and wrinkles caused by decades of smoking. I don’t recall whatever happened to Kathy but I do know she ran her little arcade for several more years. I know we would go there in high school and rent a pool table by the hour. We’d play until midnight. A place to go on Friday nights when cruising was just too boring.
Although there are a few arcades around today, they are not the arcades of the 1980s. They aren’t the smoked filled holes in the wall. They don’t just have games with joysticks and fire buttons. Today, we live in a world of 1080p Playstation 3 games and first person shooters, life simulation and MMORPGs. Yet, when I think of an arcade, I think of Kathy’s Arcade—something the 1980s created and something the new millennium destroyed.
