Last week, I visited my buddy Joe's house for his 50th birthday party. It seems I know a lot of people turning the big 5-0 this year. Joe's main floor is open concept, and against the wall near the entrance was a video game machine featuring Pac-Man.
This arcade machine wasn't from the 80s, it was made and sold far more recently than that, but the game was the vintage arcade game I remembered from the 1980s. I was drawn to it like a moth to a flame and had to play.
I played one game, and it all came back to me. I used to play Pac-Man all the time, not only in in arcades, but on various consoles, including the Atari 2600 clone I had in the mid-80s. The muscle memory kicked in and I felt like it was 1983.
So I played again, and again, and again... and I loved it. Such a simple game, but therapeutic somehow. Or maybe that's the regression therapy at work. Regardless, I can't wait for Joe's 51st birthday so I can crash another party and play again.
