- Visit my website to order
- AND, like the But Not Forgotten Facebook page by April 30th for a chance to win a signed copy of the book.
Today’s excerpt: Mall Rats!
The mall was finished three years before I was born, so any remembrances of shopping or “hanging out” during my youth were centered there and not at the ice-cream parlors, soda fountains, or drive-ins of the previous generation. My interest, of course, fell mainly on the Tee Pee — the video game room where I spent hours playing Dig-Dug, Frogger, Donkey Kong, and — my absolute obsession — Galaga. It was the prime meeting place for my generation. It was lit only by the flicker of video screens. A steady, muddled sound combined the gentle hum of tubes with a cacophony of beeps and buzzes — occasionally punctuated by the crash of a Pole Position car. The air was thick with the overpowering aroma of cigarettes smoked by change attendants in the back office. In the early years of my mall experiences, I’d use the provided stepstools at the arcade to allow me to operate the controls. After sharing a butter-pecan ice-cream cone from Bressler’s 31 Flavors next door, a small pocketful of change from Dad would occupy me long enough for him to dash down to Sears for his weekly supply of Craftsman tools.
That was his only weakness when it came to spending money. He wore garage-sale clothes or shop uniforms the entire time I was growing up — likely the influence of my Mom, whom my friends lovingly referred to as “the Garage Sale Queen.” With the exception of the occasional Christmas or birthday gift, she never wore a thread of new clothing and, until I reached the age of peer-driven self-consciousness, neither did I.
I later realized that their frugality allowed them to put me through college completely on savings, without a single student loan or subsidy.
I, however, did not inherit the thrift gene. As soon as I turned working age, I used every cent of the money I earned at Taco Bell to buy the trappings of 1980s adolescence at the mall: Levi’s acid-washed jeans and denim jackets; hypercolor shirts; Van’s tennis shoes; vinyl LPs, 45s, and 12-inch extended singles; Members Only jackets; and a ridiculous collection of Swatch watches — with the requisite assortment of multicolored scratch guards.
The mall brought teenagers from all walks of life together in one building and promoted consumerism as the essential function of being an American.
No comments:
Post a Comment