ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby WARLOCK » Fri Jan 31, 2020 1:06 pm

Robert and Sparky and myself, (as well as many others) have all felt this pressure of late where the "larger requirements of work" tend to get in the road of our regular scheduled programming of life's important efforts.
It has diminished our ability to "write things" or "get things done" in a timely fashion. In my case, writing has ceased almost entirely; except for short "chicken scratches" in my daily planner plus some 1/2 thought out texts to friends.

The takeaway for me is that the tasks are getting done, but the reporting of getting the tasks done (by myself at least) won't be done until further down the road.
I know that I am "not normal" and as a self imposed judgement, I am learning to live with this fact. It will be alright, it will be ok, and I am not alone in this: Stay curious...

So eventually, I will get where I am going, and reflect and write upon where the road has taken me, later down that long winding path.
For now, I relish reading what Robert writes here as it gives an interesting perspective of what is going on right here, right now.

Cheers, salut. All the very best. Keep on flipping...
Looking forward to hearing more here soon...

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Sat Feb 01, 2020 10:02 am

WARLOCK wrote:Robert and Sparky and myself, (as well as many others) have all felt this pressure of late where the "larger requirements of work" tend to get in the road of our regular scheduled programming of life's important efforts.
It has diminished our ability to "write things" or "get things done" in a timely fashion. In my case, writing has ceased almost entirely; except for short "chicken scratches" in my daily planner plus some 1/2 thought out texts to friends.

The takeaway for me is that the tasks are getting done, but the reporting of getting the tasks done (by myself at least) won't be done until further down the road.
I know that I am "not normal" and as a self imposed judgement, I am learning to live with this fact. It will be alright, it will be ok, and I am not alone in this: Stay curious...

So eventually, I will get where I am going, and reflect and write upon where the road has taken me, later down that long winding path.
For now, I relish reading what Robert writes here as it gives an interesting perspective of what is going on right here, right now.

Cheers, salut. All the very best. Keep on flipping...
Looking forward to hearing more here soon...


I have quoted this phrase/thought before somewhere here.

So once again from memory, here is a quote from Nikos Kazantzakis' best selling existential novel "Zorba the Greek", - "the men who live the mysteries of life have no time to write about them."

So according to the above, I guess I think I got it all figured out then ( :help ) if I am finding time to write .

I must be an overall god dam fool for trying to write all this shit down, or maybe I am just living those occurrences of our daily lives again by writing it here because I want to think it somewhat differently than how it was lived. When I think about it, it is in fact a a sort of personal appropriation of events by the writer. It remains work that I choose to do without pay, and I regularly make time for it when the conditions allow.

And for a living, (yes, one must make a living apparently), I just happen to fix pinball machines, sell parts to keep them running and make them available to the general public and especially like meeting people who have broken pinball machines in their homes. This has allowed me to encounter a wide cross section of people because most people remember pinball machines, and whether they just like to play, fix, tinker, collect, buy/sell, restore or just talk about their memories, I get to meet them through whatever above activity they chose. That is an awful lot of people. Luckily for me, I find most people interesting. That is not counting all the characters that populate(d) the amusement industry which have also proven to be a colourful source of stories that have kept me interested in the business side of it all as well.

God bless this ship of fools, no one else will.
Last edited by R.A.B. on Thu Feb 13, 2020 7:19 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Thu Feb 06, 2020 8:40 am

Bump - I am almost finish part 4 and 5 of the second to last post on page one.

If you are following this thread, have a look again, lots of edits and additions have been made all over that page and it may be worth a reread when you have time to sit and read through. Feel free to comment, I would be curious to read perspectives other than mine.

Rab
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http://www.northstarpinball.com

Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Fri Feb 07, 2020 9:56 pm

Note: if you are looking for the first three parts of this post, go to page 1 of this thread and read the second to last post on that page. You can also just jump in below. Come on in, the water is fine.


PART 4

Later that Saturday afternoon (January 11th), the North Star crew made serious headway in its mission. As I see it, (and also as I get older), I know that making every single fucking business decision solely based on higher profit margins is becoming a real threat to the coolness & fringe nature of off beat ventures like this one. This new wave of coin operated amusement machines invading our diverse cities across the country provide a great chance to run a more incomparable business model than any other that came before, and even more so in Québec. Now that is opportunity ! The question is, will this new team of crazoids at North Star be creative enough to make that happen ?

Big corps bank on the predictable, right up to the extent of manipulating their clientele as they would manipulate the products they peddle. They work at gaining control of the unpredictable by whatever means they can "legally" conjure up. The man plays hard on the slide because he is basically a bastard, a real son of a bitch in my book. He would very much like everyone to behave in the same way, like the same things, and say how great it all is to everyone they know. And even if he succeeds in making everyone buy the same products, he is always very careful not to blow the clients' belief in their own individuality, uniqueness and choices. It is tricky, but he is managing to pull this off quite well these days with the help of all the information willingly provided by what he considers as his own fodder by now. This is very underhanded on his part and also quite naive on the part of the web consumer. But hell, don’t you feel special and important when you are offered to buy something you were messaging your facebook "friends" about last week ? Sure you do, you are still making your own choices, aren't you snowflake ? The man is just being helpful and getting to know you better & better, now don't you feel so special & prime ?

Then there are the experts at efficiency who are always trying to find new ways of increasing productivity in the workplace. They work for the man, and they make employees feel more miserable by evaluating (i.e. manipulating esteem) their performances and aiding them in feeling inadequate by adding more and more to their tasks until they can’t deliver. Another good management trick is pushing their subservients out the door and way beyond what normal healthy humans can do so that they eventually leave their jobs on their own or lose it completely. This is good because then the man does not have to pay any severance to that washed up shmuck of a human being supporting a family who could no longer take the turning up of the pressure valves. Then replace them by someone younger, less efficient and cheaper so that you can freely bullwhip them into a drone. Repetitive tasks and routine are the tools of choice, and they are great tools when you are putting someone under the gun of generating profit at all costs. These tactics are not conducive to a sustainable economy, but who cares, these short sighted greed head bastards are not about the long run, it is about making what is called “fuck you money” right here, right now, and the “fuck you” is aimed directly at their clients for starters, and then is turned gently to their subservients who made it all possible for their so called superiors to achieve this crude goal as their ultimate answer to life itself. Fuck these people. Boy, I just read what I wrote, I am not human tonight.

Regardless, we are “all grown up” as a capitalistic society by now, and there is little room (or time) for organic growth anymore, so we shoot up the hormones and the steroids promoting monstrosities and producing burnouts along the way. Good business, in the true sense of the term is where the supplier and the customer and the employees profit from each transaction, but unfortunately, we are now down to the nitty gritty, especially in what remains of the traditional retail businesses. We are moving towards a new reality instead of taking on the huge task of fixing the one we still have on hand. This new less substantial reality is quickly being appropriated by a new set of greed heads who can now sell their goods, stuff, eats,rides and garbage without displaying them in the old reality, thus ungraspable by all the 5 senses. It looks good in the pictures, but you can't touch or feel or smell or taste it, just have it delivered quickly because we are very important, remember ? No worries, this new way of retailing and of centralized power distribution is so very convenient, and some of “it” can even venture to have no material substance at all, yet still sell somehow. Very cool, and everybody still gets to feel so special with home delivery right to your very own doorstep. More pollution via the sale of a product that is more than likely disposable so we can reorder. Wow.

Making substance, quality and even truth matter less is so very necessary to this new way of achieving higher margins. Start by treating your customers like morons, they will get use to it. Give them a free cell phone, then slowly deliver less and less quality as they get use to that as well with more disposable crap becoming available while you keep the price the same. Then take the opportunity to raise the price when you deliver a new flashier model of the same item with even less durability, but damn, it sure looks good doesn't it ? So by selling looks and hype instead of substance, you are becoming quite the retailer. Hype is now primordial to business visionaries instead of the actual goods.

Business mission statements should be more meaningful than just colourful words laced together to sound nice. Maybe the consumers should write them instead of the marketing teams and then be upheld to the man demanding that he be accountable to it or get off the bus, fully/completely. Someone has to be responsible for all this shit, or at least the part that is hurting our environment, yet no one seems to be around to answer. Basically, we need to stop being careless in how we do business and especially how we consume so widely without concern for consequences. Making money is fun, and having more than you need can make you feel good, but shouldn't that entail some kind of responsibility ?

Being one-dimensional in business means that you harbour one lonely goal, and that is making money which is vigilantly driven by profit. Letting this become the only value and the only goal defining the work that you do, - well, that is kinda sad and lacking somewhat in the deeper meanings that are possible. In short, I don't think that money should be the only dictating factor to a business endeavour striving for natural growth.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think that having a vision hinders the goal for profit, it depends on how smart you are in being able to make the two jive as one. Meaningful and responsible money is one way to reduce its vile effects on our world. And if there weren’t so many stupid things offered as compensation for the efforts of bringing all this shit to market, it would be a lot easier to hang on to your own hard earned money when you start getting ahead of the grab and go game.
.
Ok, so most consumers are made out to be stupid, and often treated that way. Greed and money and prosperity gaps are some of the culprits, along with a disregard for a future that can easily be less toxic if people gave up on what are still considered unquestionable values in doing business which got us here in the first place along with this senseless god damn race to the finish. There are so many things that we don’t need and are told that we must have to be content and complete. This may be partially why we are in such trouble lately.

Moving on.

Regardless, this latest motley crew of hoodlums hanging around the North Star that morning decided to head back to the shop to play/test the pins we had received from Toronto in lieu of the big installation due to take place on the 25th of January at the Bell Center. Now that made me feel like we were going the right way – shrine like location with lots of people traffic where we could show pinball to the general population once again with a good possibility for profit, what a wonderful combo. I was a bit too excited about this upcoming prospect for North Star amongst the other projects we discussed. I personally don't get easily excited about much anymore, but I thought that this was something worth reckoning with, and I then sort of decided to get stupid out of amazement. I started drinking in the early afternoon in order to feel something more than just the thrill of organic growth.

Lord Byron wrote something once about modern man and intoxication which I like very much and I have taken the liberty to interpret below for more clarity by explaining it in the parlance of our times.

When we were cave dwellers or tree climbers or whatever we were a long long time ago, basically before we developed words and combinations in order to abstract the thoughts that were beginning to cross our minds and needed to use a vehicle in expressing these abstractions. Basically, the time before that, before civilization and agriculture at best. That time when we used various noises and sounds to express our base instincts, needs and desires. Again, all those loud grunts and groans and laughs and cries, hell, also the howling at the moon we use to do and the silence of the hunt and the scream of the kill and the exclamations while mating. So now, here is Lord Bryon saying that when we stopped doing all that in the wild, we lost something, and we gained something else, and that something else was the ability to be reasonable. Lord Byron uses the word reasonable in his quote, I use civilized.

“Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; the best of life is but intoxication.”

Here goes my version and his together so you can grasp what he meant back then.:

So now that man has become reasonable (and civilized), he must get drunk in one form or another because the best part of life (being this meaningless and dirty little thing we are thrown into) is but intoxication, in any of its many forms.

Byron is referring to the intoxication of the wildness being substitute these days for alcohol lets say. What we had many thousands of years ago as the only dope and source for intoxication came from our natural unaltered surroundings, way before the ancient Egyptians messed with hops and water and yeast and invented beer. Now we can sell this stuff in Byron's words as “the best of life” or as we put it today, “miller high life”. Intoxication in all its wonderful forms is the best part of an otherwise dull life heavily burdened by the task of survival. It is now bottled for the civilized city dweller, and even in soft drink form, - so Enjoy Coke – it’s the real thing.

So it is not because we are out of the caves that the best part of those terrible lives spent in fear and darkness in the cold and wet huddled humidity of the night while hiding from predators did we not have moments of reprieve and intoxication through full moons, killing and carnal knowledge have lost their importance. It was as good as it got back then. That was the best of cave life, and it was indeed intoxicating. And even now that we are ‘reasonable’, the best part of life is still intoxication, but since for the most part we are not howling at the moon anymore and are reasonable, which in some cases can be dul), we still have this innate need to feel intoxicated, because it is indeed the best part of life, a sort of celebration of the absurdity of it all.

So understanding this quote from that Englishman, I was tempted to celebrate the high side of life. Not a good idea since I was lacking in sleep and that I am also way past my prime as a good hunter, but once again, I repeat, - the best part of an ordinary life lived is indeed intoxication of one sort or another. I was swept off my feet by the road, the prospects, the energy around me and the general buzz I was getting from what loomed ahead in the month of January. That was the trigger for the intoxication that followed and for which I felt needed to be promoted, always higher and further right ?

After some pinball and some talk and laughter and champagne and planning, I thought that it would be a steadying proposition to get some food in us. So after some Pho at my favourite restaurant of late, the Warlock & I did the rounds of our locations on the Main which I like to survey every weekend, and this Saturday was no exception to the routine. So the beers began to flow, then the ciders and then more of the same. So by 6pm I needed rest & especially refuge from the energies around me. The Warlock was just getting wound up, so I left him in the care of the North Star and I made my way home to sleep some. He was going to uber it back, but when I awoke partially rested at 8:30 PM, I texted him and asked him what his status was. No reply. I knew that I had to get him out of whatever predicament he had gotten himself into by his adhering to Byron’s quote about the best of life. He is my friend and regardless of how I felt or how heavily and hard the rain was coming down, I understood that I had to go beyond downtown and get to him.

And yes it was still raining and the roads were shit and the night was dark and he was far from home, so I brought him back to the refuge after stopping at the Provigo to pick up more protein to feed us. We ate like cavemen, drank like idiots but talked like reasonable men. So again, the best part of this shitty little thing we are all involuntarily thrust into by two other people (our parents) looking for their dose of intoxication unknowingly stemming from their ancestors time, I know that all these intoxications in all of their many many forms will always be the best part of my life for sure.

Between the throwing of ideas back and forth, I had managed to ask the Warlock what the plan was for the next day, Sunday. Asked him at what time he needed to leave Montreal. The truck was in Mile X, we were on Nun’s Island which is at least a half hour away in good climate, and we were not experiencing those idyllic conditions at all that weekend.

It was past midnight when I managed to utter the schedual question. Meanwhile the outside temperature was dropping fast and the insistent rain was turning to snow while the puddles transformed to very smooth ice surfaces all over the city. It was looking like it was going to be a long and nasty drive for Scott all the way to Hog Town from la Ville de Marie tomorrow no matter what time he decided to leave. Scott said that he wanted to be in Toronto by noon, so I did a quick calculation and shuttered at the result. This meant getting to his ride (i.e. The 5 ton truck) by 5 AM. This also entail getting up from slumber around 4:15 AM and just “go out there” after coffee and cereal. This didn’t seem to phase him, but I was concerned about the feasibility of it all as I watched the ice pellets start falling on the cars parked below. It was nearing midnight now.

I had learned years ago that the Warlock understands time in a different way than I do. But even if he does, we both always manage to somehow be on time to meet any of our schedualed obligations. And even if we have very different ways of achieving this quality of perfect punctuality often described as the politeness of kings (even the intoxicated ones) we both manage to keep to our scheduals.

We know time.

Editing of the above will follow when I make it back to the refuge of the night on Feb.10th. DONE. :!:

For now I am going to gather material for another episode. Starting a new apprentice today. As well, Mindstorm88 will be hanging out with us (Joanna, Lucien and I) at North Star this morning when another routine like day on the road begins. All my hopes for an interesting day, or rather should I say, all my efforts will be present to make it so.

PART 5 to follow very soon. I am way behind in my work because somebody' else's behind is often in the way of my work these days.

R.A.B.



.
Last edited by R.A.B. on Tue Feb 11, 2020 8:06 am, edited 17 times in total.
http://www.montrealpinball.com
http://www.northstarpinball.com

Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.


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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby cait001 » Sat Feb 08, 2020 4:32 pm

R.A.B. wrote:Scott said that he wanted to be in Toronto by noon, so I did a quick calculation and shuttered at the result. This meant getting to his ride (i.e. The 5 ton truck) by 5 AM. This also entail getting up from slumber around 4:15 AM and just “go out there” after coffee and cereal. This didn’t seem to phase him, but I was concerned about the feasibility of it all as I watched the ice pellets start falling on the cars parked below. It was nearing midnight now.


I wouldn't say I know Scott very well, but I do know him enough to know that wouldn't phase him. ;)

Great writeup. I miss the intoxication.
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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Tue Feb 11, 2020 9:56 am

PART 5

cait001 wrote:I wouldn't say I know Scott very well, but I do know him enough to know that wouldn't phase him. ;)


Cait is correct, the Warlock is not phased by what goes on outside of his head, and I think he simply sees his environment as something to navigate, whatever it happens to be at the time. I wish I was more like him in that respect, I tend to put up a fight with what I don't like, or have a problem in accepting as one more god damn reality. :lol: Sometimes I am able to change things around me, but I usually hurt myself and sometimes others by changing the course of things that are happening or may need to happen, it is the price I pay when I want to be heard and consequently have an effect on my context.

The only times that I see my friend phased by something is when an idea strikes him and manages to stop him in his tracks. That happens when something he hasn't encountered or thought about before happens to cross his way. Those are the only times when I have seen him phased and physically static as he processes the new information. He is a thoughtful and intelligent dynamo of a man, always planning, always thinking about the next challenge. I for one admire his resolve and gumption and willingness to go on even after the proverbial carnaval has left town, and early that morning he was planning to leave town as well.

The god-dam cell phone alarm went off at 4:15am Sunday morning the 12th of January, I hit snooze once and quickly realized that it was just a bad reflex I seem to exercise on winter mornings and just got up. The day was looking pretty ugly weather wise as predicted by the computer and the good folks at environment Canada. The cold rain of the day before had turned to ice pellets overnight and was now mixing the two forms of water into a rock like substance which coats windshields in a quarter inch of the stuff. We head downstairs by 5 AM and chopped away at the windows of the car, all I could think of was the windshield & windows of the 5 ton truck sitting outside since Saturday morning in a parking lot outside our storage building that was riddled with puddles yesterday. We had parked the thing near the trees along a ditch that would eventually become something oddly called Gorilla Park once the city repurposed that Mile X space. The trees over the truck and the large puddles under it would be something to reckon with for sure. It didn't matter what I envisioned or even anticipated, what was going to happen was going to happen regardless, I sort of have to get use to that in some instances.

Gorilla Park to be reopened in 2020.jpg
Gorilla Park to be reopened in 2020

No one was on the roads that morning, but I drove carefully anyways. I wasn't sure what was under the white stuff on those familiar early morning roads of the city until I began using my brakes to test my worn down winter tires for traction. It was alright and we made it up to Mile X with no problems.

I parked the car near the truck in 3 inches of slushlike water that looked as if it would turn to ice while we walked in it towards the Warlocks ride. He climbed in the cab and started the beast and I began to climb up to chop away at the ice build up on the side mirrors, one arm looped through the mirror rails and the other with the scraper. We waited for the windshield to show a slight reaction to the heat building up in the cab, it took a while.

The Warlock got going by 6AM, and with the truck limited at 105kms/hour he was hoping to make it to Port Hope just before noon. That didn't happen due to a jack-knifed tractor trailer near Trenton. Scott texted me with a home safe and thank you for the hospitality text by 4:38PM that day. He told me that he would take a nap and then drive down to Charleston South Carolina that night to drop his mother off for her flight to Tampa. He wisely postponed that escapade and rescheduled the flight until late the next day, Monday.

As for myself the routine began to reinstall itself gradually while I spent the day with my son showing him what was going on in the world around him and asking him what he thought. The next day was the beginning of another work week of selling and buying parts, of fixing pinball machines for home clients and the North Star etc etc etc. The preparations for the Bell Center install two weeks from the 12th were already in motion. I assisted in any way I could, mostly by supplying the parts we needed in order to operate these pinballs on coin and dealt with details, details, details & more details which Jordan handled well. He took charge of preparing the line up and I was very impressed by what he accomplished technically. The project of bringing pinballs back to the streets of Montreal was taking a firm stance via this shrine like location, a very good start to operating pinballs once again in the downtown core of this diverse city I call home.

Rob
Last edited by R.A.B. on Fri Feb 14, 2020 8:38 am, edited 1 time in total.
http://www.montrealpinball.com
http://www.northstarpinball.com

Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Thu Feb 13, 2020 4:53 pm

One more comment about people in general, especially the interesting ones, the ones who hardly ever say a commonplace thing.

The characters we write and sometimes talk about to others can only be a partial, and certainly always an incomplete representation of the person. I don't think that any of us, even the simplest of beings for that matter can be completely defined let alone understood beyond doubt.
http://www.montrealpinball.com
http://www.northstarpinball.com

Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Thu Feb 13, 2020 10:22 pm

The Road & the final Refuge.



"The French have a phrase for it. Those bastards have a phrase for everything and they are always right." Raymond Chandler

"L'être humain est une passion inutile" Jean-Paul Sartre
http://www.montrealpinball.com
http://www.northstarpinball.com

Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby Sparky » Fri Feb 14, 2020 1:15 pm

R.A.B. wrote:The characters we write and sometimes talk about to others can only be a partial, and certainly always an incomplete representation of the person. I don't think that any of us, even the simplest of beings for that matter can be completely defined let alone understood beyond doubt.


Well said. Hell, I still don't even know and understand myself sometimes. The road permits to reflect on one's self, and figure out what place our cog fits inside the machine of life.

So as much as the road can be long, I can focus better on myself, which in turn makes me appreciate people and things more.

Ian

PS: Thanks for the time yesterday, Rob. I appreciate the chats as much as a nice glass of fine wine. And smile on, spring should be breaking through soon. Fingers crossed.
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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Sat Feb 15, 2020 10:59 am

Sparky wrote:
R.A.B. wrote:The characters we write and sometimes talk about to others can only be a partial, and certainly always an incomplete representation of the person. I don't think that any of us, even the simplest of beings for that matter can be completely defined let alone understood beyond doubt.


Well said. Hell, I still don't even know and understand myself sometimes. The road permits to reflect on one's self, and figure out what place our cog fits inside the machine of life.

So as much as the road can be long, I can focus better on myself, which in turn makes me appreciate people and things more.

Ian

PS: Thanks for the time yesterday, Rob. I appreciate the chats as much as a nice glass of fine wine. And smile on, spring should be breaking through soon. Fingers crossed.


Yes, springtime hopefully we will see signs of that season next month. It has been a fairly easy winter overall so far.

I was thinking about how quickly this winter seems to be going by, more than half way into February and I realize this morning that I won't be posting about the last four or so Saturdays after the Warlock's flash visit through the incessant rain and ice of mid January.

For the sake of the permanent record, here is a quick summary of the four Saturdays after Scott left on that dicey Sunday morning Jan. 12th and changed the course of things for the pinballs mission in Montreal.

In summary here are the main & non routine events that followed his visit.

Turning 57 and thinking hell, why do I not feel that. Well, that is because I have never been thus old before, thus not really knowing how to act my age.

A gout attack resulting from my careless behaviour with food and drink which started building up and crystallizing after the Warlock's visit. Now attempting to act my age.

The Bell center install and having all the North Star partners there for the first hockey game in which the general population would be rediscovering pinball. It puts pinball in the public's face, not just for the people who know it is back. This is major.

Missing work because of being unable to walk up the shop or the North Star stairs and limping badly across the Alouette parts and service depts.

The North Star staff party and the recovery and back to work and preparing Fireball Classic for the North Star floor thus replacing Captain Fantastic now residing at the Bell Center line up.

20200215_074038.jpg

The routine coming back with the line up check of Feb.8th and much shop work before and after that.

20200215_074038.jpg


Now, it is Feb.15th and I just finished checking up on the herd and all is ready to roll, except the baseball which is waiting for a part due on Monday from Pbresource.

20200215_074038.jpg


So now off to visit the Warlock at Bluffs tonight, so here we go again busting up the routine and hitting the road. Don't think for minute that the wonderful cast of characters I will interact with in the next four days aren't going to end up in this thread, I am all wound up to tell stories now and see my friends at Maple Pinball and the Bluffs. Gonna be a hoot I tell ya.
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Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby Bluffs Pinball » Sat Feb 15, 2020 6:51 pm

Robert and Chris Silver have arrived safely at Bluffs this evening to begin the endeavours that will be executed over the next several days...

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Sun Feb 16, 2020 7:41 am

Woke up in a warehouse full of pinballs this morning. It has been almost 5 years since I have done that.

Something I have never ever ever done in my life is fix three different OXO's in one day. It happened yesterday without my even noticing it. After this unknowing feat, I exclaimed my surprise at this realization to the cast of characters hanging out at the Bluffs at that time.

OXO # 1 - Montréal @ North Star Machines à Piastres at about 7 AM, - spotted A & B targets go out with flipper use - shooter lane switch pressure adjusted

OXO # 2 - Brockville @ brother's basement - motor run on & ball sitting in outhole not ejecting to shooter - bonus count unit zero switch cleaned and gapped

OXO # 3 - Scarborough @ The Bluffs. - only playing at player one (no, not @ P1AG) - player unit in the backbox not stepping, gummed up ratchet pawls

I stood back and realized that I had never lived that before, and I sort of felt good about it for some reason. Today and going forward should provide a few more moments to record.
Last edited by R.A.B. on Tue Feb 18, 2020 7:56 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby novaguy » Sun Feb 16, 2020 8:00 am

Turning 57 and thinking hell, why do I not feel that.

I see we have something in common Robert.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Sun Feb 16, 2020 6:53 pm

novaguy wrote:Turning 57 and thinking hell, why do I not feel that.

I see we have something in common Robert.


Gonna drop in on you early tomorrow morning Ted so we can compare notes on that 57 thing, and I don't mean the car in your avatar. (ok, ok it is not a '57, but still, I thought "car" and "avatar" would make a good rhyme)

Oh, also picking up that 60's Gottlieb machine Warlock is buying off you, moving machines and hanging out with Scott always seem to go together along with other "pleasantries", go figure.

I have no idea if I will be able to write about this weekend in any coherent way when I get back home. I am boggled by the amount of repairs we have accomplished here at the Bluffs along with Chris and Marc and Scott helping out. And oh yes, we also made it to the downtown core today to do a bunch of repairs at The Pint.

I do admit to becoming more & more confused in this month of February, or at least a little more than a bit sketchy about my real purpose in life, if there is any at all. Oh well, could certainly be occupying myself with alot of no good mischief instead, and since we do have to go through life somehow, may as well do something I am good at and makes people forget their troubles. :D All these god damn pinball machines everywhere.
Last edited by R.A.B. on Tue Feb 18, 2020 7:58 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby novaguy » Mon Feb 17, 2020 9:36 am

It was great having you and Scott drop in this morning.I don't get to see many pinball friends so any time I do is always a treat for me.safe travels guys as it sounds like your plate is very full today.

Ted

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby WARLOCK » Mon Feb 17, 2020 10:54 pm

Woke up at 6am. Informed Robert at 6:20am to be ready to depart to novaguy's place in Fenlon Falls at 6:30am. Had a great visit with Ted. Flipper Pool in the vehicle, we returned to Bluffs.
Did what we did need to do at Bluffs, then headed to The Pint. Loaded in Farfalla and donated a heavy lifting dolly to The Pint for them to move the Pool table and Air hockey table when required.

Loaded up Alien Poker to go to Bluffs. Loaded up World Poker Tour as well. Headed to a friends storage locker not far away and loaded up Lights, Camera, Action. Drove to Maple Pinball in Mississauga next.
At Maple Pinball, we met Doug and Shane before 2pm. Set some games up and worked on some repairs and headed back to Bluffs a few hours later. Shuffled everything and got ready to load the truck tomorrow, early.

Hawkesbury first, then at least 4 stops in Montreal are in order tomorrow. RAB was in bed by 9:44pm. I will be as well by 11pm tonight. Up at 6pm as is Robert's routine. As a nighthawk, this morning stuff hurts, but is very productive.
Guess I am getting old... Cheers, Salut. More soon.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby Sparky » Tue Feb 18, 2020 10:46 am

"Hey Scott... we gotta go deliver pins to Montreal."

"Hold my beer."

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Wed Feb 19, 2020 7:42 am

It was a remarkable & exhausting 3 days with pinball people, who luckily for me like to think and talk about other things than pinball occasionally.

Traveling with Chris Silver on Saturday into the center of the universe, talking and coming up with 42 on the windsheild on my way back through Hawksbury the following Tuesday. Traveling with Scott through the rain and snow and yards and yards of coffee everywhere we went, we were liquidating assets frequently.

20200224_164922.jpg
Found under the rain and snow of my windshield. Signed ChrisSilver ofcourse.

It was remarkable to see the crew (Chris & Mark) at the Bluffs and the patrons at The PInt and still even more pinball brothers like Ted, Doug and Shane via the various roads leading to & from them.

It was remarkable to make it home safely through the wind and rain and snow and finally find refuge again from the madness that all this wild whirlwind of events and people will inevitably entail. I believe Scott made it back this morning or in the middle of the night. A wonderful maniac, a generous hard working soul tormented by the routine of living.

It is wonderful to be back at my desk at Alouette this morning doing what I do best, total control now. And yes, I will continue to talk and hang out with almost anyone who wants more out of life than just pinball parts and has something interesting to say about finding themselves alive in this here and now.

Always seriously thinking about what is next. Lots of choices ahead. I think I will keep growing my own thing out of what I have learned and gathered through this life time spent so far. I certainly know what I don't want by now, and see more of what I do want. If I didn't know at least that, I'd be a god damn fool by staying alive this long and not having learned anything worthwhile. Not the case.
Last edited by R.A.B. on Fri Feb 28, 2020 6:26 pm, edited 5 times in total.
http://www.montrealpinball.com
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Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby WARLOCK » Wed Feb 19, 2020 4:09 pm

Not sure if I am tired, but another regular day today...

Montreal via Hawkesbury (to get Robert's car) was much longer than expected due to weather, but we made it safely, and all was well as we hit Montreal.
North Star storage unit was stop #1 in Montreal. North Star to pick up Dave Smith and say hello to the gang was stop #2. Stop #3 was a mission for Dave Smith to aquire a Quicksilver. Stop #4 was to be North Star to play pinball...
Dave Smith and I decided that in case there was weather, we were heading straight home as stop #4. I returned Dave and Quicksilver to his home, and got to my home by 2am. 20 hour day with well over 1000 km traveled. It was tiring but good.

A North Star longer visit, Allouete visit, food on the main as well as a long overdue stop in St. Laz will all have to wait until next trip... (Which is of course is already mostly planned and in the cue. Known only to the circling thoughts in my head.)
Hearty thank you and gratitude to all those involved this trip. They all know who they are...much appreciated my friends...
More soon. Cheers. Salut.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Thu Feb 20, 2020 5:04 pm

Just starting to feel some sense of recovery from breaking the routine that had settled into those road repair weekends of late.

The recovery seems to necessitate the physical as the first order of business, then the mental dimension of it seems second to follow in my case, and like everyone else, we will all eventually be cured of our condition via death. So we do stuff in the meantime and hope and work towards a better future for those who will carry on what you have laid down as your contribution through blood, sweat and tears of joy and sorrow. You know, - the good things in life.

It is now Thursday afternoon and the sun is warming up my refuge. Breaking the routine was good overall, yet many things could have gone better, but isn't that always the case. Largely depends on the weather, the people implicated and the infinite variables affecting any plan we choose to lay down. You can only minimize the fuck ups by planning,. Life has too many variables and circumstances to be simple, add to that the complexity of human beings and you have quite the soup of surprises.

20200216_195706.jpg
Last edited by R.A.B. on Fri Feb 28, 2020 6:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
http://www.montrealpinball.com
http://www.northstarpinball.com

Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Thu Feb 27, 2020 10:20 am

Return to the Routine - February 22nd, 2020 (numeric date - 022220)

In my case, (and maybe in yours) it takes more effort to get out of a warm bed on winter mornings. Strangely, this was not the case last Saturday, mainly because I was looking forward to getting back to some sort of routine after the previous weekend's break from it. So, I believe that the familiarity & relative safety of getting back to the routine was the principle clincher, plus the fact that they were calling for springlike conditions. Well, that was a damn good start to any February day as I have known them.

I asked Joanna to be ready for 8:20am, just a little earlier than usual for the North Star line up check. We were to begin training a new kid who seemed to be able to listen and put a coherent phrase together through speech. I had first gauged him as a potential apprentice two days before losing my own ability to speak coherently while in Toronto.

As I waited for Joanna, I texted the Warlock back concerning an epiphany that had occurred to him that morning and which he thought to share. We have been texting epiphanies back and forth since last weekend. This practise came about due to something Chris Silver had said during our drive together from Hawksbury to Toronto in order to hook into Scott's world. Chris had come up with a phrase, one that describes what he claims to experience when overtired. He called it, “a reversed epiphany” and that in itself is absolutely brilliant. Hell, I know plenty of people who go around, even when fully rested who regularly act on their very own reversed epiphanies and generally end up screwing things up.

Joanna got in the car and we drove up the main and caught up on what has been going on. Things like her work schedual being shifted around due to the Native People of Canada disrupting big business via their protests and actions meant to directly affect the Canadian economy. Always hit "the man" where it hurts if you want to try to change something. You will probably lose, but let him know that there is a problem with the greed of his nature and his parasitic shareholders. I know, it is just a cry in the night, but it may be heard through the darkness. Maybe even someone in power with a god damn concern for a future beyond profit & power will hear it, maybe some dickhead with a conscience that lurks in his hindsight.

Joanna said that the indigenous peoples have managed to coordinate the strategic blocking of the CN train tracks in many places from coast to coast resulting in temporary layoffs at Via Rail where she works. This immediately made me think of a corporate term I use to hear during meetings at my old job when some upper management clown wanted to appear colourful when a request made by a subservient was acknowledged and proclaimed to be in cue for execution “...it’s in the pipeline” they would say. Well, in this case, it turns out to be true.

We discussed the end results of the trip to Toronto while on the way up to solicit our favorite morning coffee lady. Alot of things went wrong last weekend in Hog Town because of reversed epiphanies in la Ville de Marie, and I was now glad to be back home and maybe help in making things work again. It is so hard for me to watch stuff go wrong when it doesn’t have to go wrong by just exercising a little more planning and untainted communications. Oh well, that is why when all is said and done I prefer to work alone when I can. When I do need assistance, as one eventually does, I pick helpers very carefully right from the get go and trust my gut, it has rarely led me astray unless I was excessively intoxicated. In the same vain, I hope that Dexter will show up next Saturday morning for his initiation to the world of pinball maintenance and contribute in keeping the ball rolling.

At the coffee shop we frequent I had once again forgotten my wallet in the car, so Joanna paid for the coffees with a credit card. When we got back to the car I gave her cash so she could get used to that very real convenience and freedom, at least for the rest of the day. She jokingly asked if this was part of her apprenticeship. I said that it was.

Whenever I enter the North Star, my first repair reflex is to look at the herd of machines and look for any out of order signs. The next step on Saturday mornings is to turn on the string lights and grab the pinball repair log book from behind the bar. The quantity and quality of the staffs' notes dictate the order in which we execute the check up & how I line up priorities. Lucien showed up at 9:30, but no Dexter, maybe next week. I may have involuntarily scared him off during our first meeting, hope not.

Apart from the usual small issues detailed in the repair book such as screws and leds leaving their holes and sockets, there was a long detailed message from Friday night about the 1963 Williams “Major League” baseball machine. It is a top earner at North Star which rarely disappoints the patrons at the fun level and is permitted to award replays by runs, score to beat, grand slams and even matches. You can also win extra innings if you nail the home run ramp when it lights up randomly. How much fun is that ? Yards and yards of fun I tell ya !

The note in the repair book was very well detailed by Ruby, so I immediately made it a priority. Joanna and Lucien took the usual good care of the herd with inspections & detailing. I knew that they would call me over if they found something they could not handle on their own. This allowed me to concentrate on the baseball machine which was blowing the coil voltage fuse when a game was started. I unplugged the playfield since the note in the book said that there was grinding noise before the machine was put out of service. I suspected the pitching motor. The fuse did not blow when the jones connector coming from the playfield was unplugged and the game was coined. I inspected every coil (relay and other) under the playfield. The speed variance coil on the pitching unit looked a bit toasty, but had no problem sucking in its plunger. Disconnected the feed to it by precaution and coined up the game, still, the fuse blew. I was somewhat concerned that it may be the pitching motor that had shorted out, but that wouldn’t necessarily blow the fuse until power was applied to it. We had changed or repaired that motor at least two times in the four years that we have been operating this workhorse. After disconnecting the motor, I coined the game without the playfield plugged in, everything started up & reset as it should, but as soon as I put in the playfield jones connector to the motor panel the 10 amp fuse blew in a way that a fuse blows when a coil is shorted, yet nothing on the playfield was shorted. Got the schematic out, but just before consulting it, it occured to me that there is a mixer/stepper unit on the motor panel that controls the pitching speed variance coil. I took a gander between the steppers on the back of the motor panel and the step up coil was totally burnt, that may be why the coil on the pitching unit looked toasty. Called over the apprentices to show them the cause of the problem and repeated a lesson I had not thoroughly exercised that morning. When fixing an electro-mechanical machine, your first & best tool is observation. I got Lucien to cut the feed signal to the stepper coil in question. Baseball was back in operation for another Saturday night of fun.

We finished up the line up check and made a quick stop at the shop to pick up some stuff Joanna needed for her own pinball at home. Grabbed lunch before heading out to do a service call on Belanger east somewhere. I sort of knew where it was since I had done an estimate there three weeks prior. All I needed was the civic number, so I looked it up in my paper agenda flipping pages at a stop light. Joanna eyed me curiously. I told her to listen up and uttered 5479 and closed the book. After another stoplight, Joanna asked for the address again so she could put it in her phone that would guide us via an inanimate voice we would have to shut up and listen to when it spoke. Fuck that, I had put up with that non-sense before, but not in my town. Hell, that will be the day when i can't find my way in Montreal without the help of some fucking tracking device. I told Joanna to put her phone down and would she please open the glovebox and find Belanger street in the Montreal region map book I got from my ex’s car before she scrapped it 15 years ago. Joanna said OK in a reluctant voice at first and then gently asked if this was also part of her apprenticeship, I said ofcourse it was and I promised her more laughs by looking up the destination in a ratty old book filled with stories as opposed to letting that goddamn smart assed device guide us to this Firepower pinball machine in need of a fix via a no man’s voice telling us where to go. She laughed and asked if I remembered the civic number, since she had already forgotten it from when I said it out loud. “Well” I said, “ I left Pitt street when I was 54 and 1979 was when I graduated high school. So the client’s address must be 5479 Bélanger.” She said that I was a total nutcase, and smacked me hard in the arm and the car swerved a bit. We both busted out laughing.

I explained to her how to look up streets in the index, and how the arrows with a number indicated in them at the edges of the page were useful if you ran out of road representations on that particular page you were consulting. I could see that she was getting a kick out of looking up Bélanger street in the map book to see if it was above the 40 or not as we made our way east. She came up with the wrong answer after finding Belanger street in Ste.Eustache and then gleefully looked again at the index for the street of the same name in St.Leonard, I had told her that the client was Italian and had an espresso machine in his garage, so St.Leonard made sense. We made it to our destination without having to listen to an inanimate female voice interrupting the real dialogue of our humorous discourse. We had used our own voices and eyes to get to where we were going, and there was no need to trust anything else than that, especially when you are roaming in your own city.

We set up our tools on a Bally Playboy pinball machine and a scooter seat as the client offered us wonderful coffee from a Keurig coffee machine. Espresso, i.e. “the devils juice” as tonysoprano on MAACA coined it back during a Pitt street thursday night repair session. The client then asked if we would like a shot of rum in our devils' juice. I politely declined and Joanna abided to that wicked offering. We got down to work and it wasn’t long before she noticed how much I dislike that Williams system. She also started to grasp as to why I dislike it. I had gotten it to play, but man what a nasty bunch of problems we tried to work through. No sound during game play, all sound and speech there at the diagnostic level, repetitive kicking eject pocket coil, no ground to right flipper etc etc etc. I knew that I was going to lose money on this job, but I got the machine to play and that way I could at least charge something to the client for the call and give Joanna some more cash for being so patient and helpful despite my frustrations with this service call. I knew that I was changing again and adapting through strife.

Never neglect the changes coming into your life, whether you bring them on or that it comes at you from left field. Change can be like a brush with the sweetest angel of light and it can also be a total heart wrenching son of a bitch of an experience. Strange as it may seem, change in any of its forms is a sort of panacea to the doldrums of routine and the daily grind that settles over us and when we stop looking for something more than the roles we are offered to play as standard issue in relation to the context. Have no doubt about it, we are actors and actresses in someone's scenario, or at worse we are the players/pions in someone else’s game. The game is just that, a game which you participate in but are not meant to win.

So it comes down to this simple riddle and observation - everything is important yet nothing really is.

And if one decides to trade ambition for existence in reaction to the above epiphany, then that can only mean two things.

1- one is tired of playing the game
2- one is ready to play out the final act in the waiting game.

Some see retirement as the big rock candy mountain, usually because their jobs are unpleasant and unfulfilling on some human level. So not working for just money and survival sure looks good. A lot of money is spent on providing free advice to make retirement look like the goodie at the end of your life when you are too worn out to enjoy stuff you could be fully and completely exhilarated by in more youthful days that are now gone and will never come again. Yet, not working is seen as the big final life reward for most of us, I don’t completely see it that way.

Many doers I count among my friends are not waiting for things to happen to them, even though they will eventually and inevitably be stopped. But for now they are alive and kicking. On the flip side, and I know this sounds crazy and contradictory in relation to the above statements, but never deny the return to routine as a reassuring feeling after you are done with all those fluttering sons of bitches and sweet black angels. Thus the title of this crazy thread I promised to keep writing into 2020. Keep your refuge as your own place to get grounded, but don't ever hide out there for too long.

It goes back to something I wrote on this thread a while back. The beginning of anything we decide to do is always the best part of that chosen experience. If you believe this to be true, you are probably a person who doesn't like to see one thing end before you see another begin. This puts you in the camp of one of the following groups.

doer
malcontent
creative

Always looking for beginnings, especially in these times where things (and people) seem to be getting older more quickly. This economy demands a quick turn around on the products and services it offers. Add to this a population that is aging, and having it grow into a demographic we have never seen before in such numbers. The market will cater to them as needed, as long as they have money left in their savings accounts, and if they don’t the man will take whatever is left at the end of their road.

As for the younger ones in the upcoming gens, business has recently acknowledged by virtue of its behaviour that creating a climate of disruption and noise is good marketing in keeping the consumers scrambling for the latest goods and keeping the workers producing the goods under the a false sense of urgency. Business has learned that "the scramble" sells in a big way. In any case, all is fair game now, a kind of survival trip where the only crime is in getting caught. Even killing people can be done slowly and gradually with processed foods, lead in the water, insurmountable debt and stress levels at work while providing all sorts of dope to take the pain away. What a great way to generate profit and production. The corps have lawyers in case this gets ugly and people wake up, and they also have group insurance to show us that they care.

We know that evolution wants new beginnings, it always has, and as a population living longer may not be so good for growth and forward movement. But rest assured, by the force of things life itself will make room for new beginnings as it has before. But again on the goddamn flipside, old things can be grounding and provide stability in this chaotic environment of late laced with confusion that is carefully conjured up for the sake of our economic growth. Getting old can give us the time to breathe and reflect and instruct against the swindle of these false urgencies.

Ah Fucking Life, what a mess of things to manage. You think you got a truth and another one comes along and throws the other one out the window. So - “out the window with the window.”



The rest of that work day was plain fun. Just talking, drinking, fixing, playing pinball and laughing all the way up and down the Main as we visited all four of the North Star locations. I think fun and humour may be all that is left of this whole fucking mess, but what fun can you have if you have no sense of humour. These two more than ever important characteristic of the human animal are necessary to each other. The younger members of our tribes seem to be awful serious, anxious and paranoid. This may be an indicator of the times they have to make there mark in. There are always exceptions in every tribe ofcourse. I prefer the exceptional quality of any otherwise normal state of affairs.
Last edited by R.A.B. on Sat Mar 07, 2020 8:47 pm, edited 4 times in total.
http://www.montrealpinball.com
http://www.northstarpinball.com

Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Fri Feb 28, 2020 9:13 pm

Tomorrow is the 29th.

May be time to leap into action once again and knead the routine into something didactic as we continue to massage the kinks out of our daily grind waiting for another epiphany that may help to make the routine OK once again.

Tomorrow is a day that apparently only happens once every four years, personally I do not go for those type of shananigins, but why not make it special anyway folks. Life is to teach you.

"You can choose, to lead must follow, but if you fall, you fall alone. If you should stand, then who is to guide you, - if I knew the way, I would take you home."

The Grateful Dead

No I am not a hippie.

Hugs,

Rob
Last edited by R.A.B. on Sat Mar 07, 2020 8:22 pm, edited 1 time in total.
http://www.montrealpinball.com
http://www.northstarpinball.com

Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.

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R.A.B.
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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Fri Mar 06, 2020 9:46 pm

February 29th 2020 or Stardate – 200229022920290220 = 42 (More Pics and edits to follow over this weekend - March 6th to 8th. God Bless yada yada.)

They were calling for mild weather and sunshine last Saturday, - a leap year Saturday to boot. That combination doesn't come around often, so it makes sense that this day in particular was exceptional.

The week had zipped by, and so had the month of February it seemed. Will it be clear sailing until springtime ? Doubt it. Not so worried about it this winter. Strange because I am usually a wreck at this time of year, yet for reasons that remain unclear to me I don’t feel like slitting my wrists this winter. More concerned about doing my taxes on line in spring. I think that I will do them on paper this year just to make things more interesting for the people who may look at them, or who will at least acknowledge the payment/remittance page. That was humour, - so don’t send me PMs about how Revenue Canada works, please don’t, please refrain, it was just meant to be funny. Try and remember humour, I certainly hope you still can 'cause you are going to need it more than ever going forward. There is little that is funny about the future, but one should keep a good thought if at all possible. The youngins don't seem to laugh much these days. Has anyone else noticed that they don't laugh much ? Can you blame them ? Nope.

We are way beyond the point of return to what once was. I still think it a shame to throw the baby out with the bath water for the sake of more progress and more and more profit fueled by information about what were our private lives. And even though I don’t find babies particularly necessary these days, like many other conceptions, I just mostly feel sorry for them - anyways enough of that. There were some really good things about the past that we got rid of because those in control were looking to profit by sucking more and more out of the general populations lives and habits, even right down to the god damn marrow. Ironically, ordinary hard working people who trustingly believed what they were told, have involuntarily helped the screwheads get rid of what freedom of choice the average joe had left and it would seem took for granted while trying to earn a decent & honest living, no more no less. So clever is this convenience angle which was sold in lieu of having a right to choose other things than what is offered as what you should want. It would also be nice to maybe have people be heard in a more concrete way than somewhere lost within the vast echoing void sounding in the containment of the world wide web.

Joanna was ready at 8:30 and I paid for the coffee and the shot of espresso with toonies. The coffee lady smiled when I tipped her with the ringing sound of loonies dropping in that porcelain cup near the debit machine. Tipping with a CC is not the same, it has no sound, just resonates to the quantum computer at the tax office. Again, humour.

I was looking forward to this day for two particular reasons, well maybe five reasons. Anyway, one reason was about swapping a machine at North Star that morning. A decision I took because I knew that it was right. A Gottlieb EM for a Gottlieb EM was my prerequisite for the swap, so I chose Solar City to replace Big Shot. The latter had been consistently going out of adjustment each time Jordan and I thought we nailed the intermittent problems which the staff and players were noting in the repair log book. I felt that it was time to take it out back and shoot it. So we did, and now a very beautiful Solar City has filled the Gottlieb EM void created by the removal of the Big Shot squarepants.

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I was also looking forward to seeing an old buddy that morning, someone I hadn't worked with in over 25 years. We both had been in the amusement business in the mid 90's. We had begun our business association after making a deal with the owner of L’Acrade du Vieux Montreal on St.Paul street.The operator's name was Gary Yacht and he was a long time buddy of Neil Rubin for those who remember, what a pair. The arcade had closed, but the abandoned shop on the 4th floor of the building was filled with equipment, parts, boards and documentation. The deal was that we had to empty that whole floor in two days, and if we did, we could have it all for 500 bucks. But, if anything was left behind, we would have to pay a fee of 500 more bones for disposal of what remained. My buddy Nick and I scrambled like excited children for a truck rental and also secured ample space in a garage and basement in Greenfield Park and made ample use of the city dump. There were over 25 video games (including simulators like Mach 3 and other big fuckers) and 13 pinballs, I remember the exact numbers of pins, as for the vids I can't recall but there were definitely more than 25. Nick wanted those, so that made us work together as partners in the small home service company I registered back in January of 1990.

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Nick showed up that leap year February morning. I hadn’t seen him in decades and he still had that goofy kid like smile come out when he saw the North Star for the first time. I was also expecting Jean, an airplane pilot friend of mine who has been interested in learning to upkeep his own pinball (Captain Fantastic) which I had repaired for him well over 7 years ago. Jean had set fire to his machine's motor panel accidentally with contact cleaning spray and a quick finger on the power button. He came crying to me via Montreal Pinball in 2012 after Mira turned the job down and told him to go away. I also turned down the job at first after seeing pictures of the burnt & melted colour coded wire insulation on the score motor, but Big Dave said he would take it on. Jean has been grateful ever since and he has recently started to show up at line up checks to learn some basics. Well, he didn't show up that morning and neither did the new kid Dexter, but my long lost friend Nick did, and that made my day.

I was operating baseballs, pinballs and one bingo in Ville Lasalle when I first met Nick in the early 90’s. He had a Domino's pizza franchise next door to one of my locations on Dollard in Ville Lasalle and he would come to play the machines and chat between pizza making duties.. Later, I made a deal with that location to rent the back section of that comic book/sports card store from the owner, a horny divorce called Belinda. This was in a small strip mall back in 1992-93 where I sold and fixed pinballs while building my client base from the exposure that this inexpensive storefront provided. I had to get a city by law changed in order to just make these machines available to the public and sell them. There were many old stigmas about pinballs in all the outlying burbs of Drapeau's Montreal.

20200306_211816.jpg

Nick was into video games and I was also operating a few of those in the comic book store, with permits and all. I mostly made money from school kids with lunch money. Nick would fix those for me and I would deliver pizzas for him after my store hours. A good exchange of services. We became buddies and I was very happy to see him again that morning at North Star after so long. It was his first time there and it blew his mind, and obviously brought him back to another period of his life. I think a certain perspective is neatly provided by revisiting periods of your life that contributed to who you still are and managed to protect from a subtly controlled present and an upcoming sterile future with little humour.

20200306_211715.jpg

We worked on Solar City together, it had just been delivered and had a bug, Nick was lighting up like a 455 bulb and Jordan helped us in finding the problem. Two old men saved by a young whiz kid. There may still be hope.

Nick hadn't changed much, and we were both thrilled to talk to eachother in person again. We caught up on family, career, retirement and yet still talked about working together again, since it was obvious by our conversation that we still shared the same work ethic and understanding of the amusement business. He loved the North Star and we talked about how the business we grew up in has changed as all things do, but this business has somehow retained the same thrill as in the past. That thrill of providing fun and making money. We talked about what we could do with it now that we were older and wiser. Nick is 52 and retired and looking for something to do like lots of my friends who don't want to stay home with their wives every freakin' day once they do stop working at what they did all their lives to build their families and have made babies who are now grown up into young adults who don't laugh much. Now that their lives are winding down, these friends of mine want to keep working for fun, and keep feeling that sweet rush of accomplishment. I am all for that. Yet as I get older, I am pickier about who I spend my remaining life time working with. Some people know how to work, some don't. Some people just look busy by scrambling and putting out fires usually set off by not knowing how to work in the first place, much like using contact cleaning spray on an 50 volt Bally EM score motor. You look busy, but that is not productive. There is good busy and bad busy, I have always believed that. Like Jean (who didn’t show up that morning) who had set fire to his Captain Fantastic motor panel by not thinking things through and then threw in his girlfriend's clothes to stifle the fire. That is bad busy and a good way to lose a girlfriend.

After the line up check Joanna wanted to go to The Main restaurant next to North Star, we did and I ate carefully so as to not mess up my afternoon. We then head off to a service call at UbiSoft World near Sources and the 40 service road. An FEC (family entertainment center) with virtual reality pods, Nintendo Switches and high powered computers generating wild graphics and games in a large room full of video card heatsinks. The manager of the joint is a cool guy in his 40's and he bought two EMs I had fixed at Alouette and put them in this virtual reality hi tech joint of to the side of the air hockey and foosball table. I thought he was going to get fired for this, but the parents who let their kids run amok in that joint love playing pinball. They are set on free play and get about 500 plays a month each. Needless to say that I am working on selling them on a maintenance program through Montreal Pinball for the upkeep, because they get dirty pretty damn fast. This will include a bi-weekly visit on Saturday afternoons while I make my way to other service calls in the waste island, there are alot of home service clients in the west island of Montreal.

The 1974 Bally “Circus” was blowing the coil fuse, and just like last week at North Star with the Major League baseball, a stepper unit coil had fired from having stayed on. Got Joanna to snip the cord this time. We moved on to other nonsense after that and talked all the way back to town. We stopped in on a new North Star location called Vice Versa where a week ago we installed a MMR. These types of microbreweries/public houses have different rules than the bars, and I am glad that this province is finally letting families with kids go into these types of establishments that serve food and alcohol. Alcohol only places like North Star do not allow under 18 folks to enter and I think that is ok for now.

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We then went to Lucky Ho and Chez Serge for our usual end of day routine. At North Star we met a couple of the partners, played, talked and laughed. Joanna wanted to head back to the refuge of the south west around 8PM, so we did. She picked up Indian food and soup near St.Mathieu & Maisonneuve for Chris and herself. I then made it back to my studio to reflect on a day of weird memories and visions fueling a future that will more than likely be more interesting than the present and likely will be laced with more humour than these times permit. Humour was all that was left in the end anyway.

More pictures to follow, maybe some scans. I have to dig up the past again to show that the present didn’t happen without a path having previously been laid out with much youthful effort.

Chnillapoil said it best in a text conversation we had a while back -

"L'homme oublie facilement le passe, surtout aujourdh'hui car la technologie lui fait accroire qu'il est au-dessus de tout ca..."

Not a chance - we are not above what got us here.
http://www.montrealpinball.com
http://www.northstarpinball.com

Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.

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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Tue Mar 17, 2020 2:26 am

"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.” ...... beware the Ides of March......

20190927_221712.jpg
Who was, and now is Julius Caesar ? Your guess is as good as mine.


Friday the 13th had a sinister feel to it. And by nightfall, the toilet paper was running low at the Pharmaprix. The dude who works the post office counter there asked me how such high toilet paper sales were related to the looming pandemic. I told him that someone at Health Canada may have underestimated the power of the WWW. He didn't seem to get it at first, but by the time he processed the parcels of pinball parts stemming from my day at Alouette, I think he understood.

It was likely an oversight that toilet paper was the first item on the list of essentials to stock up on in case of quarantine. That unleashed a buying frenzy via the reach of the internet coupled with the growing unquestioning nature of common folks who are looking for a quick answer as to what to do/buy in order to be OK in the face of a some situation or another. This frenzy, simply put, was way over the top. I would have put dried and canned foodstuffs as the first essential items to have on hand if you are stuck in the comfort (or sloth) of your own home for 14 days. Hey, it's a tough ordeal to survive at home like that, so run to Costco Now and buy whatever is on that list they posted and get the first item in quantities. Let's be forthright here, toilet paper stood no chance after the government listed it as the very first item as essential in case of isolation. What were they thinking ? They have changed the order of the items on their list since the Ides of March.

It remains a great combo, the internet and stupidity. And what incredible power it has as we casually go about our daily lives, or at least have been allowed the impression that we are going about our own lives when we consult it. This powerful new Oracle can inform us and it can also swindle us, especially via an unquestioning reactionary mode that is so easily triggered by fear and anxiety.

I picked up Joanna at 8:30 shortly after getting an unusual text from my brother. It said that he would try to call me that morning. He never says that, he usually just asks when a good time to call is and we hook up. I suspected that something major was happening as I quietly acknowledged that alot of people in our common entourage are approaching the finish line. I texted back that a good time to call would be after 9. I was off the road and within the quiet cradle of the North Star at that time and able to talk without distractions.

At the coffee shop, a less spunky than usual lady was behind the counter and asking us what we wanted in our coffees. She never asks that, another first. We usually pick up our coffees from her counter and move on to an adjacent island counter where the cream, milk and sugar dispensers are situated along with a bundle of wooden stir sticks jutting out of a container. That section now had a sign in front of the empty bins reading - "Please allow our staff the pleasure of fixing your coffee". I suddenly understood why this was happening as the coffee lady shot me a narrow minded smile once my genius light went on. The routines were fading fast out there on the road and would continue to do so I reckoned. This was the beginning of our adaptation sparked by the cumulation of circumstances in this complex world where we live. We are beginning to learn that we have to adjust to it once again, not just to this outbreak, but to the whole tamale.

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A fine clear morning to help us see the changes that are coming, breaking up the routine of our little lives.


That Saturday in particular was what I like to call a didactic day on the road (DDR). It carried deeper meanings, quite beyond the technical nature of the work we do on pinball machines. These other dimensions become especially clear as one starts to pay philosophical attention to the fragility and tenacity of life itself. Hell, we often take the incredible & pure moments of our lives as granted and let them go by without presence since we are always on the move towards somewhere else. Knowing time the way we do, not the way it is represented on your phone, will likely end up exposing us to our frequent failures at maintaining presence. It becomes more obvious when we look back and see how often we were careless with the moments of our lives and how we often lack the attention to live them intently because we were not standing still. Most of us will understand this at some point in their lives. Habit and routine have taken hold of our comings and goings and have helped us to forget how to feel the incredible variety of moments available to us when we break the shackles that keep us weighed down to an established path. Does that make sense ? Probably not, but so what, it was a thought I had. The coming days would call us to attention and force us to stand still in a way. Maybe the days to come would remind us of how we know or at least understand time.

Once at North Star I quickly assessed the notes in the log book and knew that the herd of machines was in need of some minor repairs. We took care of those and then focused on detailing the pins. Little did I know at that time that they would only have to perform solidly for one more Saturday night before being shut down for at least two weeks, maybe even more, no one knew anything for sure about that. All we knew, was that we all had to react to what was looking more and more like a threat to public health. That was why my brother had called at 9:10AM with a tone of calm urgency. He asked how things were going in Montreal and commented on the situation with concern and provided advice about the measures to take with family members both in Quebec and Ontario. We conferred about doing what we now needed to adjust in the face of this situation. This pandemic was going to teach us something, I was sure of that, and this is the good side of it. That was jake with me, but as for that day, I needed to do a couple of things before changing routines and hunkering down.

Once the line up check completed, Joanna and I grabbed some lunch at the Main restaurant. We were the only ones there. Nothing stirred except us and our regular waitress, a 30 year veteran of the Main Deli. Marie said that she couldn't remember a time when it was this quiet while the restaurant was open. We ordered without the use of menus, since we knew what we wanted. We were the first customers of the day, it was 11:30. Another first.

I had set up a job that afternoon as I usually do to in order to fill the gap between the line up check and when North Star locations begin to open on St.Laurent Blvd. around 4. Making it to Machines a Piastres around 6PM was always the goal in order to end the work day on Saturdays. The afternoon job was to pick up a pinball machine in Deux Montagnes and drop it off in Laval on our way back towards the island of Montreal. All the appointments were set up & confirmed in advance and we managed to respect that schedual to a tee. Deux Montagnes at 1PM, Laval at 3PM, Lucky Ho at 4PM, Chez Serge at 5PM and finally the North Star at 6PM for ciders and caesars before making back to the refuge of the south west. That was the routine, and I would surely miss it, but that's OK - it is good discipline to miss something. It breaks up the undesirables effects and the predictability of habits that help businesses market some crap that you don't need.

JoJo was especially game for that day's escapade up the 13 because she grew up in Deux Montagnes and wanted to show me the meaningful places of her childhood and adolescence. We would certainly not need a GPS for this trip. I know Ste.Eustache well from the days of being with a woman who grew up there and also know the road to Deux Montagnes and ofcourse Chemin d'Oka from having operated equipment around there long ago. Beyond that, JoJo knew the specifics of the streets and landmarks of where she grew up. She was good in guiding us, especially where I was not as well versed. The pinball machine was in a garage on 10th avenue and she knew how to get us there. Again, no gps required as she beamed with memories about the familiar streets along the train tracks, the hardware store, spray paint, abandoned buildings, her punkish friends, the local cops and almost everything else that remained there and was emanating off those roads.

She continued to tell stories and I listened to each word, intonation and subsequent emotion. I was happy not to be listening to some god-damn automation telling me where to turn and in how many meters, instead I was listening to JoJo speak in a lively tone while she told me where and when to turn while adding colour in recounting what was on each corner of those streets and what it meant to her. She was sharing her youthful memories that were filled with joys and tribulations of growing up in those burbs, and by the same token guiding us to our destination, - what better way to get somewhere. Her stories made me realize how most kids growing up in the burbs across North America live pretty similar experiences. Regardless of whether they grew up in the 60's, 70's or the 90', maybe even way before and also after those decades, the song certainly remains the same at base for now.

After picking up the game in Deux Montagnes, it was my turn to find our way to a house in Laval and deliver this thing by 3pm. I had been there years ago and I knew that it was on a street in Laval somewhere. LOL. On the way, I told Joanna about some landmarks and stories I remembered and lived forced to reside in Laval against my will and better judgement when I got back from Toronto for Laniel Automatic in 2001. I did remember the name of the street we needed to get to since it bore the same designation as my middle name, so that was a good start and I knew it was off boulevard de la Concorde and east of the 19. So without further delay I made my way from the 640 to the 13 to the 440 to the 19 south and remembered the civic number because there were 3 fours in the combination of the highway numbers that got us there.. OK, you figure it out, but that is not the point of the story. We got there around 2:30 and unloaded the game and by 3pm a real good friend was happy with his new project, and I was happy for him.

Joanna was freaked out at his amazing game room and the impeccable pins. We were offered some Black Label beer, she abides and I politely decline, too early for me, the host indulges. Jojo had only heard of Black Label and Alain and I knew it from a past long gone when that beer sponsored the Montreal International Jazz Festival back in the 80's when Spectra Scene was responsible for putting that gig on year after year. It is still associated with Jazz music in many Montrealers minds, at least those that are in bodies between 45 and 65.

After a while JoJo politely asked if she could try out Taxi at first, she hadn't played one since her teens. Well then, this was the right place to relive that I thought 'cause that Taxi was like new. They were all impeccable and I too was lured in by that new in box feel. I discreetly declared that I wanted to play Fathom and JoJo freaked out and lost her ball on Taxi by the mere fact that I was interested in playing pinball. To her, that was a first. She knows that I only play pinball to test them or show a noob the purity of the objectives on EMs. That is the way she knows me and pinball. Long gone are the days of high scores and bullshit of the sort for me, I usually get bored with a game before the last ball. Alain's Fathom kicked my ass, so I refrained from absolutes right there and then as I understood that nothing is really over.

Jojo didn't want to leave Alain's basement, but we needed to get to the Main by 4 and take care of three North Star locations, but little did we know that this would be the last time we would do this for quite a while. The routine was coming to an end, abruptly, but we did not know it there and then. So we casually made our way to the Main nerve which divides Montreal into east and west and parked the van inside the old Warshaw building which is now a Pharmaprix that no longer has toilet paper on the shelves. It would be a while until we would do the line up check again as well, so we drank and fixed and laughed and played. At North Star it was quiet, and Charlotte who was tending bar said that she had seen worse Friday nights than last night, so that was encouraging, but there was an unmistakable feeling in the air that we would have to make the hard choice soon, the closing of this amazing bar for a while. The Bell center events had all been canceled the week before so our machines would not be earning and it didn't look like things were going to get better soon for our other locations. So the next day I got a call from my partners and we made the decision. The announcement that North Star would shut down until people could touch each other again was the right thing to do. I translated the official statement in French and it went up on the Facebook page before the Premier of Quebec declared that bars would have to shut down until further notice. Again, we were ahead of the game. I was very proud of that. My business partners made a good decision in being responsible citizens before we were forced to close.

That Saturday night the 14th of March, Joanna and I head head down to the refuge of the south west without knowing when we would get back to the routine of the road. Beware the Ides of March,..... yes indeed.
Last edited by R.A.B. on Tue Mar 24, 2020 5:14 pm, edited 10 times in total.
http://www.montrealpinball.com
http://www.northstarpinball.com

Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.

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R.A.B.
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Re: ROUTINE ON THE ROAD – REFUGE BY THE RIVERSIDE

Postby R.A.B. » Sun Mar 22, 2020 9:27 pm

The routines will have to stop for many of us. There is no choice if we want to grow from this situation, do things differently and be brave in your resolve, no whining, no bitching, just do what is right for you and others as a collective, and don't take any sort of "cuff" from any of the fuzzheads breeding from this crisis, they are a waste of time.

Social responsibility is primordial at this juncture, no ifs and buts about it.

Later on the flipside of this thang we will be stronger.
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Maxed out at 10 machines, no more no less. Toujours a 10 machines, pas moins pas plus.
Une règle suivi gueri de tout. A rule respected can cure anything.

A philosophy of doing shall rule til the days when I can no longer "do" arrive. Because when I am too old to wipe my own ass, adjust an AX relay or relieve a woman from sighing, there will be only memories to fill my time. So, the task at hand is to build a RRSP of memories, come hell or calm tides.

P.S. A man needs something to do besides contemplate how crazy everyone has become in a world of overly exaggerated self-importance upheld and maintained by the new dumb.



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