At the beach, there is an old midway arcade.
The ringing of the old machines is relentless. The groaning mechanics of the kiddy rides. The constant pounding of a game where you flip frogs with a mallet.
The games still only come alive with quarters.
And your reward is a string of old paper tickets.
Its all so simple. So plain. And glorious.
It reminds you how much we've mucked up a good time.
At the arcade, carrying the plush toys my kids won, I was hit with that something.
A feeling that I want to notice the world around me.
I want to see my children.
The analog joy of that place. The lights, the thrills, the sweat and noise — reminded me what a real life feels like.