kicking puppies is bad

When I was growing up, I was not the “cool” kid. I was the math-team, Science Olympiad, Odyssey of the Mind geeky kid. I wasn’t allowed to watch a lot of TV, and I didn’t have a Nintendo. I found that this made it hard to relate to my peers. If I *did* get invited to their house to hang out, interacting with them sucked. I couldn’t talk about TV, and I couldn’t play nintendo. And that (apparently) was all that kids my age did.

However, in a stroke of luck, my grandparents owned some property in downtown rochester. This property was not very successful. There was a never ending stream of new tenants. One of these tenants ran an arcade. When they couldn’t pay their rent, the offered my grandparents a pinball machine. My grandparents had no use for it, but decided to take it and give it to us. This pinball machine was not incredibly reliable. It broke a few times, and eventually my parents stopped getting in fixed. But when it was running, I spent hours in our dingy basement playing pinball. I loved that machine in the way only a socially retarded 7-12 year old geek could. It broke when I was 12 or 13, and my parents “couldn’t find someone” to fix it.

I moved away when I was seventeen and was gone for 9 years. The pinball machine was broken about 4 years before I left. It remained broken the 9 years that I was away from home. It still sits BROKEN in my parents basement. But It isn’t MAJORLY broken. In fact, now that I have a graduate degree, I’m pretty sure *I* could fix it. I *know* I could hire someone to fix it.

So, I asked my mom if I could have the pinball machine. She said no. She said she is thinking about getting it fixed. She has been saying that for over 12 years now. She *never* even liked the pinball machine. She definately *never* played the pinball machine. I offered to BUY the pinball machine from her. She still said NO. I thought about buying a *different* pinball machine. There are certainly snazzier pinball machines available now. And I am a single computer programmer with no kids. I have the money to buy a snazzy new pinball machine if I want one.

But I don’t want a different pinball machine. I want my pinball machine. Specifically, the 1982 Mr. and Mrs. Pacman Pinball Machine that is currently living in my parent’s basement.

It has sentimental value. It is the one that I spent my childhood in the basement playing (because I had no friends). Why won’t she let me have the pinball machine? WHY?

Note: I actually *do* have a good relationship with my mother. My family is the main reason I moved back to Rochester.