Just thought I would write something a little different in this article.

Requiem for our special friend we should all remember


The Western Herald - Requiem for our special friend we should all remember

Requiem for our special friend we should all remember

by Duane Gundrum
September 28, 2004

It is with a sad heart that I found myself staring at an old friend of ours who is slowly passing away. He and I have known each other for a very long time, almost as long as I have been going to Western Michigan University. I’ve seen him chugging along each and every day, always there with a lit-up disposition and a friendly sound, almost like music. But today, I saw him pretty much on his last legs, and I’m fearing he won’t be with us much longer. So it comes with a sad revelation that I must bid good-bye to our good friend, the Lost In Space pinball machine in the Bernhard Center.

I remember first meeting LoSpace (forgive the abbreviation, but he and I have known each other a long time, and we’re on this kind of naming scheme — he often refers to me as Kikima, which is short for Kid who Kicks the Machine) when I had a little extra time one day in between classes. He was sitting there, alone, as students were playing with the other machines that seemed to have a little more going on with them. But LoSpace didn’t seem to have that kind of action going for him. I remember the first time I played him, he wasn’t doing very well then either. If I remember correctly, I ended up winning two games, and then at some point the ball got stuck in a broken bumper, and I couldn’t play the game again. After that day, I remember wandering by and seeing him always begging other students to play him, quite often by advertising free games to anyone who would be interested in playing him. Of course, he always offered more than he could deliver because even though he would advertise 10 free games, pressing the start button would reveal that the ball was nowhere to be found.

That was the thing I always liked about LoSpace. He always knew how to keep you guessing.

But he was a victim to that jealousy thing that happens between different video games. We always knew that Area 51 was just as old, but unlike LoSpace, Area 51 wasn’t giving up on its video-game supremacy. It never allowed itself to show weakness, and it continued to take coins one after another, often giving a short game because he was a tough game, and he let you know it. No, he was nothing like LoSpace, who wanted to be your friend so bad, he’d let you win, just as long as you kept playing. You really have to hand it to him; he was a real people-machine.

But today, LoSpace wasn’t even plugged in. I suspected this was going to happen eventually, because he was having a lot of trouble recently just keeping his power going. I’m sure people have tried to repair him numerous times in the past, but there’s only so much you can do for someone who has given up on life. I don’t think anyone ever realized it, but LoSpace was lonely. He had few friends. I mean true friends, the kind you can call up in the middle of the night and say “come on over, my bumpers are ready for scoring extra points.” I suspect I may have been his only friend, and even I was rarely around.

So I think LoSpace just gave up. I can only hope that when he finds his place in the video game heavens, he finds a little kid with endless pockets of quarters willing to play just one more game. He deserves nothing less.

Duane Gundrum, the Western Herald opinion editor, is a Ph.D. student from Santa Monica, Calif., studying political science.

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