Everybody's playing the game but nobody's rules are the same
We set out early, but not horrifically early, Sunday the 19th, the last full day of Weimar America. The weather was never so bad that we had to drive up the night before and find a local hotel, the way we had for the 2019 and 2020 state finals. All that it was, was bitterly cold; I don't think the high for the day was 10 Fahrenheit and it was much less than that whenever we were outside.
When we got to the City Market, formerly the Bay City city market and now the Crazy Quarters Arcade plus some side gigs, we found a news van outside. Channel 5 Or Something news, not the station that bunny_hugger had done the morning show for on Friday, had come out, probably drawn by overhearing that there was a highly photographable event going on. So they were, and some of bunny_hugger's precious setup and preparation time was taken standing not too directly in front of a camera and trying to describe what was going on and that you, too, should definitely play pinball.
There would be more media coming around later in the day, with another TV news crew coming in the middle of the first round of the playoffs. So bunny_hugger had the extremely fun event of having to deal with, first, a game that needed some kind of ruling made, and second explaining to local TV news that pinball is a great pastime that you should definitely participate in, all while waiting to get back to a game where she expected to be knocked out. There was also some struggle as the news crew wanted footage of people playing but also had to follow direction to not get too near competitors and stay out of their lines of sight.
The answer, of course, was to follow the practice dating back to Edison Studios' astounding newsreel footage of the Spanish-American War, and that is, fake it. (Much footage of American forces invading Cuba was filmed in New Jersey.) They got a couple volunteers to stand at machines and play nothing particular while bunny_hugger answered a couple questions, and everyone agreed this didn't count as extra practice time for the extras. They also took some legitimate footage of the actual competition, from far enough away and behind the competitors that they wouldn't cause trouble. And so it is that the TV footage contains incidental pictures of bunny_hugger having an inadequate rally on skull-themed game No Fear.
Outside that, though, inspecting the games went just fine. There had been one game substitution the day before, as Stranger Things suffered a catastrophic malfunction requiring parts they didn't have to fix, and The Beatles came in as replacement. bunny_hugger counted this as maybe a saving moment as she is, if nothing else, reliably good on The Beatles. Fortunately PH made this choice of replacement game so she could not be accused of rigging the game list in her favor. A couple practice games confirmed that the Crazy Quarters table plays enough like our home venue's table that her reflexes should still count.
And there were reports that one of the early solid state games, Gottlieb's 1980 Circus, was not tilting. It's a widebody game, three inches wider than the standard game of that time (and of today, for that matter), so even if it wasn't tilting who could nudge it that far? The arcade owners swore it was tilting just fine and bunny_hugger tested it, satisfied the game gave warnings and tilts to reasonable shoves.
The owners also loaned bunny_hugger a key to the coinboxes, so that she'd be able to open up the games and free stuck balls. She told me she didn't know how to get a game opened up; apparently, I've been hogging the chances to open up our Tri-Zone pinball machine and she didn't know the magic. So I explained. Once you open the coinbox, you need to take off the lockdown bar. This is the strip of metal or heavy plastic across the front of the playfield. That's locked in place, and you just need to grab the lever handle underneath and swing it to the left, releasing the game body's grip on the lockdown bar. Take the bar off, slide the glass off, and the game is yours. She opened up The Beatles, to test this out, and could not find the lockdown bar's release lever.
Neither could I. It turns out that since the days of the 90s they've replaced the lever with a pair of thinner but long clips, attached to the front of the pinball machine's main box, on either side of the coinbox door. I had no idea either, and the arcade owner had to explain this and to show how to do it. Once she'd set fingers on the clips on either side of the coinbox door's interior she understood.
My recollection is she never had to open a game and remove the lockdown bar, but still, it's good to be ready.
Despite the Lions' loss the night before HLC arrived, checking in well before the deadline moment. So did all the other players who'd committed to attend, and the alternates went home, sad. (I'm surprised they didn't hang around to play in the open-to-the-public area, or stick around to watch and root for anyone, but I guess if they'd been there practicing for a couple hours already they might have had enough.)
bunny_hugger was as ready as could be to start the contest.
I bring you now ... the end of our day at Camden Park, starting with the reveal of what was hidden underneath that open panel in the welcome sign.
There's the secret of the open panel underneath the Camden Park sign! It's ... uh ... electrical boxes, like you'd probably guess was there. I'm not sure that they should be quite this exposed to the elements but I guess it's not like it's going to rain up into there and the neon lights aren't on much either.
The other side of the Camden Park clown and arrow. I wonder if the missing panel underneath the arrow was always missing or if it only recently (in the cosmic sense) left the sign.
Camden Park's entrance, with the rare chance to see lights and things illuminated.
Some of the clowns warning about acceptable dress in the park. Note that my shirt was not buttoned.
And what the heck, a photo of the park rules and refund policy and all that. We went on Saturday, the expensive day, although it's not that expensive and was certainly worth it.
And a last picture of the ticket booth and the entrance, as the park shuts down --- it was only a couple minutes until the staff were leaving for the night --- and we make ready to get dinner and sleep ahead of the long drive the next day.
Trivia: At his postwar trial Pierre Laval, prime minister of Vichy France, protested to the judges, ``You can condemn me! You can do away with me, but you do not have the right to vilify me!'' One of the jurors then shouted ``shut up, traitor!'' Laval screamed that he was a Frenchman who loved his country. The jurors shouted back that he was a ``bastard'' who ``deserved twelve bullets'' from the firing squad. Source: Year Zero: A History of 1945, Ian Buruma. Laval was executed, after a failed suicide attempt, eleven days after the start of the trial.
Currently Reading: Lost Popeye Zine, Volume 14: 1952, Tom Sims, Bela Zaboly. Editor Stephanie Noelle.