The penny arcade story must have hit home for many of you, as I've since heard stories of the many good times there. I recently discovered a place downtown that had a penny-arcade feel to it: Gameworks.
It is wall-to-wall video games, but not a one of them cost a penny. It was an all-around, electronic wonderland, requiring earplugs because the games made extraordinarily loud beeping and ringing sounds.
How does a kid today ask his parents for the funds to pursue this pastime? "Can I have a few hundred so I can play video games, Dad?"
I laughed, remembering during the war years having just barely enough in change for the triple bill at the Colonel Theater: a whopping 9 cents!
Inspecting the toys
In those days, we often met early at the No. 11 Madison bus for an adventure to Downtown Seattle.
As soon as we got off the bus, we heard Turko, a large man with curly, white hair, selling papers outside Kresses department store. He shouted the headlines, followed by his own thought-provoking comments.
Kresses sold our favorite toys - such as the compressed-wood toy soldiers that crumbled if left out in the rain - and there was plenty to examine.
Downstairs, a man proclaimed the time- and money-saving benefits of the latest, greatest kitchen gadgets.
The Kresses inspection complete, we walked east on Pike Street to Ben Bridge Jewelers, whose window displayed pictures of the war. The store changed the pictures weekly to provide an updated, but limited, view of the latest war effort.
Boys will be boys
Around Third Avenue and Pike Street, a crowd of people waited for a bus. Boys will be boys, and so we stood close together, looked up, pointed our fingers and shouted, "Think he'll jump?"
The rubberneck plan played out well, and we walked away laughing at everyone looking upward with their puzzled expressions.
Farther down on Third Avenue, just south of The Bon, was the Telenews Theater, where daily war events were shown. The reality of war-torn cities and casualties displayed in a larger-than-life, 90-minute film was informative, but grim.
A cartoon played next, followed by a short in which animals made funny comments through human mouths superimposed on them. This bit of humor really lifted our moods.
A new trick
The big thrill of the time was the new escalator at Frederick & Nelson. We stood at the bottom of the escalator just to watch the people disappear into the floor above without moving their bodies.
Soon, we discovered all types of unimagined feats never before attempted. "No feet" meant holding onto the big, rubber handrails without touching down for one whole floor.
It also was fun to run down the up escalator dodging people on the way, but of course, saying "Excuse me."
Little Mike - the smallest of us then though a head taller than us now - announced a new trick, claiming he could do it and challenging us to even try. We huddled around as Little Mike sat down holding his arms and legs in the air.
Could he possibly go a whole floor in that position?
He smiled as the escalator jerked up to the second floor. We watched as Mike showed no exhaustion as he came close to the top.
The rest of us were anxious to try this feat as no Little Mike was going to outdo the rest of us. But, just as he reached the top, his smile disappeared and his eyes popped wide. We heard a tearing sound as Mike flew to his feet. He turned to see what happened and was forced to cover his backside and make a beeline for the restroom.
The escalator must have been hungry because it ate most of the seat of his pants and even some of Mike! He had a bruise clear across his hindside.
We tried to contain our laughter, but soon that was impossible, and even Mike began to laugh.
Leaving the store, he wrapped his jacket around his waist, and we made a point of not making fun of his escalator adventure for the rest of the day.
A new pet
A few blocks west we found Gouches Pet Store, where they sold animals of all kinds. They sold little, green turtles with red dots on each side of their mouths that we just had to have.
All this critter needed for a home was a jar or bowl. Any bug found went to our turtles.
Soon, our parents grew weary of our turtles, the smell and general unseemliness, and they forced us to get rid of our pets. We took our turtles to the shores of the Edgewater Apartments, and they scampered out of sight.
Perhaps you've noticed the abundance of turtles as you cross SR 520, sunning themselves - but now they're 6 to 8 inches in size...
Richard Carl Lehman is a Madison Park resident. Send e-mail to him at mptimes@nwlink.com.
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