Friday, August 14, 2009
In the olden days, there was a video game arcade where Max's Kansas City used to be. I played there many a night communing with Pacman and the ghost of Andy Warhol. My favorite game was called Crazy Climber. My little guy would frantically climb, windows shutting on his fingers, pots of flowers thrown on his head and the reward to have King Kong try to stomp you at the top. When he invariably fell, he'd cry, "Oh Noooooooooooo." It was a perfect metaphor for my life back then.
I've been seeing these little Pacman-like creatures appearing on the buildings around town. If one defines the past as my daughter did, "Yeah mom, I'm playing old time music, you know -- The Rolling Stones," then this is a fine and peculiar form of urban archaeology. They always make me smile.