Ok, my ass is no longer numb, and I've recovered most of the mobility I lost during my 22-hour deathmarch to Cleveland. Bali Hi is cleaned up and squared away in it's special corner of my tiki bar. It's working, but something funky is going on with the reset function so I'll have to dig into it later and find out what's wrong. In the meantime, I'll regale you with the meagre details of my trip and share a few photos wit' youse.
I hit the road at 5am sharp on Saturday morning and made good progress in the pre-dawn hours. There was the barest sliver of a crescent moon bouncing along the treetops to guide my way, and the weather was perfect. Things proceeded swimmingly until I hit Chicagoland and its endless procession of tollbooths, road construction, and TOTALLY FREAKIN' INSANE DRIVERS! Chicagoans, you're all total dickwads behind the wheel and I mean that in the most loving, nuturing way possible.
I zipped along the Indiana and Ohio Turnpikes passing many interesting sites along the way that I unfortunately had no time to stop and visit. I arrived in Cleveland 10 1/2 hours after I started, and pulled into the driveway of Bill Kurtz, journalism teacher by day, pinball wizard, author, and arcade collector extraordinaire by night, on weekends, and during school breaks.
Bill's basement was crammed from top to bottom with pinballs, video games, and arcade ephemera of every description. Bill owns the world's largest collection of pinball flyers (over 14,000), many of which he sells on eBay. He also possesses the world's largest collection of Kentucky Fried Chicken memorabilia, purchased directly from the estate of Colonel Harlan Sanders' widow. One of the Colonel's trademark white suits hangs in a corner; it's surprisingly threadbare, apparently the Colonel didn't waste any of his millions on buying a decent suit. Bill has also written 4 excellent books on the history of arcade mechanisms.
He then introduced me to the object of my desire which was sitting in a far corner of the basement. He fired it up and let me play a few games while explaining the machine's various quirks. Bali Hi is an "EM" (electromagnetic) pinball, which means that it contains absolutely no solid-state circuity...no transistors, no integrated circuits, nada. A peek inside the top box and cabinet reveals a twisted, writhing mass of mass of wiring, relays, and solenoids. It's a good thing I still remember how to use a voltmeter.
After plunking down my hard-earned cash to buy it, we broke the game down into smaller chunks and hauled it out of the basement with a fair application of sweat and elbow grease. The pieces loaded easily into the back of my wife's Subaru.
Bill then showed me some of his newest purchases: a old arcade crane, a highly-collectible Fireball pinball machine, and the controversial Death Race video game. He asked me if I'd help him take the crane and the pinball down into the basement which I agreed to do gladly when he offered to comp me a autographed copies of his books Arcade Treasures and Slot Machines and Coin-op Games.
We chatted some more, then I headed out on the road again. I made it to Ann Arbor around 10pm and knocked on the door of yong-mi and Art, who'd graciously invited me to stop by. We chatted for a couple of hours, then I crashed on their fold-out. The next morning, Art gave me a yard of ale with a wooden stand and an old box of Whiskey Sour mix both of which I accepted gratefully. I took them out for breakfast, then drove back behind the Cheddar Curtain, stopping only for gas and a chicken-fried steak with some stanky radish greens at Cracker Barrel...mmm, Cracker Barrel! I got home at 6pm, so sore that I was practically unable to stand up straight.
After work today, my wife and son helped me get the cabinet into the basement where I cleaned 33 years worth of cigarette smoke residue off the cabinet and put all the pieces back together. The machine looks great as you can see from my photos, and it fits in perfectly with the rest of my bar decor. I couldn't be happier with it.
Well, that's the entire tale, of how I, like a latter-day Thor Heyerdahl of pinball, sailed my own personal Kon-Tiki to the exotic land of Ohio to prove that ancient interstate travelers could have made the long journey from Wisconsin in search of retro-arcade machines.
I just pray the Tiki gods won't be leading me on any more 1400-mile journeys any time soon...my poor ass just can't take it.
I managed to make up for an indescribably crummy week in Boulder with a fun trip to Colorado Springs and Denver today.
