We
are the coin-fed generation
Classically
trained
In
the Pavlovian style
To
desire discs of metal
Weighty
little coins
Keys
to worlds of wonder
A
few for the vending machine
A
line of them for the games
Candy
bars and Coke
And
hours of time disappeared
The
funny irony of it
That
is repeated still today
Is
the parents were worried
They
thought out minds would melt
That
we’d forget how to interact with people
Zoning
out on video games
Dropping
our quarters in slots
One
after another after another
Funny
how it didn't happen
Funny
how pedestrian that era seems
Looking
back through internet colored eyes
Because
it was better
Back
there playing Galaga
Than
it is with their decedents of now
Because
you had to get up
Leave
the house
Bike
down to the strip mall
Talk
to the guy making change
Wait
in line for your favorite game
And
then leave at some point
Because
you ran out of quarters
Or
it was closing time
And
then you got home just in time
To
read a few pages in your favorite book
Maybe
call your girlfriend
Or
shoot hoops in the park
Watch
a little David Letterman
And
then actually sleep at night
No
arguments over saved games
Never
a cheat to spoil the fun
Everyone
starts from the beginning
Even
ground
Level playing field
Gentlemen,
present your quarters!
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