Notes from Maine - 2026/10/25
I went to a costume party last night. It was a pinball Halloween party—people were encouraged to dress up in pinball-themed costumes. Its heyday was in the 1970s and the hobby catered to teenaged boys, so pinball machine themes lean heavily on cleavage and tight clothing. Chip and I dressed as Sherman and Mr. Peabody, from Chip’s favorite pinball machine—Rocky & Bullwinkle. Fewer than three people were able to guess our costume.
The winners, amongst “Couples Costumes,” were a pinball and a pop bumper. It was a well-done costume, although a big obvious one if you ask me. My favorite costume was worn by a woman dressed as a witch, strapped to a stake, with LED flames flickering up from her hem. She works for the arcade where the party was hosted, so I don’t think she was eligible to win, but she should have been.
Freddy Krueger won a prize. His makeup was excellent. In 1994, Gottlieb produced a “Freddy: A Nightmare on Elm Street” pinball machine, so the costume was not only well-executed but was technically also a pinball theme.
I always preferred scary costumes when I was a kid. I had it in my head that the purpose of Halloween was to look so scary that walking around in the dark and knocking on stranger’s doors wasn’t frightening. A butterfly, football player, or princess might be a victim. A demon can’t be victimized.
To be honest, Chip and I mostly went for the pinball. It’s good to socialize and eat pizza, but it’s also good to play machines that are new and well-maintained. When we buy machines to fix up, they look like they’ve been dragged behind a team of galloping horses. They might look nice when they’re ready for sale, but it’s tough to not see all the cracks and restoration mistakes. With someone else’s machines, I’m able to look past all the defects and just enjoy the game.
Don (one of the owners) was rolling his eyes at his Stranger Things pinball machine. “The plywood near the cutouts for the drop targets is chipping away. It’s beyond missing paint—it’s literally falling apart after 2,000 plays. I have a call into the service department.”
I had to lean in very close to see what he was talking about.
Don and Jim own the establishment and all the machines within. Each of them has filled their houses and garages with so many pinball machines that they have enough spillover to put 35 great machines in their bar/arcade. They used to have more there, but they thinned it out a little to accommodate the crowd for the party. Now and then, when they have too many machines with issues, I’ll go down and work on fixing things up in the back room. It’s fun to try to diagnose and repair a machine on site. With 10% of one’s tools and bad lighting, most of the problem-solving has to take place in one’s imagination. The challenge is its own reward.
I was dressed as Mr. Peabody. I had to pull my dog nose down around my neck in order to play. I kept taking off my fake glasses to clean the nonexistent lenses. I never got tired of that joke. I wore fingerless gloves that made my hands look like paws. Those were really helpful—they offered padding so I could slap a machine when the ball’s path needed persuasion.
If I go again next year, I’ll try to talk with more people. Last night I saw many people I already knew, and we chatted, but when serious people are playing they aren’t holding conversations. It’s silly to go to an event with so many people who share the same hobby and then not make a single new introduction, but that’s what I did. I swear I’ll make more of an effort next time. Between you and me, I promised myself that I was going to make an effort last night too, but those flashing lights and blasting sounds just drew me in. Next time, next time, next time.
