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when i was growing up, we had pachinko in our dank, moldy basement. it was there when my parents bought the house. we's spend hours sending those little metal balls dancing down in their erratic patterns. the noise must have driven my mother mad. it was installed on the wall outside a little storage room. if you were to go into the storage room, you could see all the inner workings of the pachinko, the balls moving through innumerable plastic pathways, ultimately dropping down to the wooden ramps where they would roll down, plunk to the next level, roll down again, plunk, roll and plunk till they landed in the bucket of balls, which we would grab eagerly and pour back into the pachinko machine endlessly.
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