GALAGA MASTER

Here's my high score on Galaga.

Ignore the fact that everyone below me has 20000 points and alliterative initials. This means nothing. I'm a GALAGA MASTER. 

We took a trip up to Lafayette today to hang out with some friends and celebrate an early birthday. Since said birthday girl has a healthy appreciation for wine, this meant a trip to her favorite winery, where we had a picnic and listened to a Beatles cover band, wine in our plastic cups and cheese on our crackers. 

Those strawberries were seriously delicious. 

Later we went to dinner in Lafayette and walked down the street to an old-school arcade, where the owner sat in the back repairing an old pinball machine, his dog loping up to greet me when I held my hand out over the roped-off doorway.

I played the Chicago Cubs pinball game out of respect for my mother, but I spent most of my time with Galaga. Pinball seems kind of pointless, and I never get very far -- but killing alien ships? That's really important. Plus, Galaga reminds me of my dad and how we played video games when I was a kid. It was always exciting when Dad would play with us. He must have been around the age I am now when he created Zelda maps on scroll-out printer paper, the bushes and secret doorways drawn on to scale in colored pencil. I wish I still had those. Yeah, my dad has come to my rescue countless times in the past, and he's probably the best guy I know, but I think I'm still most proud of the fact that he made those Zelda maps. What'd your dad do, huh? I bet he didn't make Zelda maps.