![]() And it never even occurred to me to ask why the carnival had helpfully placed a change machine nearby, allowing customers to turn all of their creased dollar bills into even more chances at fame and glory. In my own personal experience, for example, I never once stopped to wonder just how many millionaires might have built their fortunes by playing coin-operated amusements. There’s something peculiar about these coin pushers that disables the critical thinking functions of the human brain. Some savvy vendors will even try to up the ante, stacking high-end prizes on top of the coin rows, tempting the player with special tokens, knives, or designer watches. ![]() A slider bar in perpetual motion then “pushes” the row of coins forward, hopefully causing some of them to fall over the ledge and drop down into a prize chute. At ten years old, it was the first time I’d ever encountered the promise of instant wealth, and the vision was positively hypnotizing.įor the uninitiated among us, an arcade coin pusher works like this: The player slides one of his hard-earned quarters down a chute, and then tries to “aim” the coin to make it fall directly behind the others. ![]() What first caught my eye were those rows upon rows of shiny quarters, many of them placed precariously close to that sharp drop-off ledge, seemingly ready to fall straight down into my grubby little hands. And even back then there could be no question: out of all the rigged games and dangerous rides, my favorite attraction was the coin pushers. But back in those days public accounting was still a mystery to me, so I was content to wander about the lot with an ice-cold Slush Puppie and watch the carnies do their thing. The details of this fundraising arrangement remain somewhat murky, but I assume that the Farina troupe must have kicked back some percentage of their profits towards the town’s parks and recreation coffers. Those snack sales were just one way that my hometown worked to raise money to pay for our uniforms, bats and balls, and over time, I found myself more captivated by the business aspects of the sports-industrial complex than by the game itself.Įvery spring, like clockwork, the parking lot near our high school football field was taken over by the famous Farina Brothers traveling carnival. And so I found myself spending more and more time hanging around the concession stand, drowning my sorrows in orange Gatorade. In my younger and more vulnerable years, I found myself taking part in that great American tradition of “youth baseball.” After the first few hundred times I dropped an easy infield fly ball, though, my coach pulled me aside and confided that a career in athletics was probably not in my future.
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