Nostalgia and Neon Lights - The Golden Age of the Arcarde Returns with Wieners & Losers

Originally posted on Camel City Dispatch here

Within the first five minutes of Disney’s “Wreck-It Ralph,” you know everything is going to be alright. There’s an unmissable vibe. As the camera slowly zooms in to its Fix It Felix, Jr. arcade cabinet, and the on-screen action feigns exposition, it’s secretly winning over every audience member born before 1975.

It’s a trick, obviously. Neon lights and chiptune sounds (or, as the millennials say, “8-bit”) working together to elicit one specific, recognizable moment – a fleeting memory, childhood summers, and seventy-five dollars blown on the Zaxxon machine during family beach week.

That trigger is the embodiment of ‘Wieners and Losers.’

Hearing Scott Leftwich, the arcade’s owner and operator, discuss his gaming machines is almost clinical. He describes how they’re nothing more than monitors, circuit boards, and power supplies. He’ll tell you about the six home circuits he has installed (for comparison, a normal house has one) and joke about accidentally flipping his own circuit breaker at an old house before he realized how much raw power these glowing towers devour. Words like “parallax” will creep into conversation the same way Trekkies sprinkle Klingon proverbs into every aspect of their lives. You’ll hear the exact mechanical reason the Pong Doubles screen looks kind of wonky near one edge… and realize you still have no idea why five minutes later.

Leftwich describes arcade restoration as a “popular hobby among people (his) age.” It’s how he knows so much about the inner workings of each machine. But after talking to Leftwiich for just a few hours, it became apparent his hobby isn’t in the machines themselves.

It’s in the process. Or, better yet, the religion.

He says the machines “deserve a second chance” and with each one he aims to “breathe life into it again.” But those aren’t the way you describe toys. That’s what you say about a juvenile whose stayed out too late or made one too many mistakes. To Leftwich, these machines are his own personal at-risk youth home.

“It’s not good for them just to sit idle,” he explains.

Some machines he spends only a week on, while others require a month or more. And every cabinet is unique – it has its own baggage, personality, and quirks. But those are the things Leftwich aims to enhance, not cover up. While some restorers spend months repainting, rebadging, and making sure everything looks assembly-line fresh, Leftwich feels its important to leave the rich history – like a Pac Man cabinet graphic worn away, used for decades as a hand prop while friends looked over each other’s shoulders. He says those blemishes “tell a story.”

Even if you don’t know the stories, just seeing the arcade for the first time (housed in Leftwich’s incredible and appropriately designed basement) draws you into the reverence.

Wieners and Losers is a chapel for the Golden Age of gaming. And, like any good Sunday morning service, each machine puts on a show. They default to an “attract mode” designed to draw you in and steal your quarters. The games tease you with gameplay samples, catchy music, and, in the case of Bezerker, insults aimed at emptying your pockets. Anything for a tithe.

But superlatives don’t aptly tell the story. There’s an experience to be had in the confines of Leftwich’s basement that words can’t express. Anybody can read about church or religion, but to truly experience the healing power of a holy spirit, you’ve got to attend the revival.

And that’s where Wieners and Losers steps in. Some attendees lived in the 70s/early 80s, pre-crash era where you had to pay to play. Others experienced the late 80s and early 90s arcade revival scene, categorized by shopping mall trips and polygon graphics. But for all these people, their sanctuaries have long since crumpled and decayed, replaced by home consoles and online gaming. This is the second coming.

And for younger attendees, those that have no experience putting quarters in a slot for credits – the closest they’ve ever come is buying more lives in Candy Crush – Wieners and Losers allows them to get a small window into what their parents (and their parents) generations were like. They don’t have the same wistful affection for arcade gaming’s past, but they can appreciate it a little more by simply being at Wieners and Losers.

Leftwich says that attendees, both young and old, are left speechless. He calls it “Joy.”

But there are a few commandments for Wieners and Losers. The first, of course, is the year. Leftwich has a strict cutoff of no machines after 1984, partially because his nostalgia runs deepest for everything before the arcade crash that happened between ‘83 and ‘85, but also because, as he puts it, “you have to stop somewhere.” People are also disappointed to find out his arcade doesn’t do much with pinball machines, but again, that’s out of necessity. You simply can’t be all things to all people.

There is a little slack in “thou shalt not,” however. Leftwich hinted that he might make exceptions for a Ghost & Goblins machine, or Paperboy. And he does have a fantastic Video Pinball machine tucked away in one corner. Then, there’s the hidden vice – a back corner room, not open to the public, dedicated to every great home console release from the Atari through the Sega Master System. An entire wall displaying consoles you’ve never heard of, from companies that no longer exist. While Leftwich claims he stopped at CD-based systems, that line seems quite a bit more arbitrary. Why include Super Nintendo and not Philips CD-I? What about the Atari Jaguar? Or Virtual Boy?

Far be it from me to pass judgement. In fact, Scott Leftwich’s missionary work is mostly above reproach. He even admits that, “more interesting than the restoration process is the places I find them.” One machine, kept in an Amityville Horror-esque establishment, was turned around to reveal countless, disgusting flies. Everywhere. And he snagged a number of cabinets from an unnamed ghost town where the post office had closed.

And his labor of love draws in a congregation. In the few hours we spent at Wieners and Losers, Camel City Dispatch editor-in-chief Chad Nance geeked out over the Star Wars Arcade game. A lot of attention was given to the Dragon’s Lair cabinet sitting prominently beside the entrance, where it was revealed (with much dismay) to be nothing more than an elaborate Laserdisc machine. We all checked the impromptu scoreboard, found a goal, and chased after 80s glory.

That culture is what brings people together at Wieners and Losers. The identity of an arcade and its loyal followers isn’t tied up in one machine, or a certain type of game. Everybody who enters the hallowed halls of Leftwich’s establishment has their own holy grail – that one machine which, after decades away, they can still stand at and have the muscle-memory to dominate. Like riding a bike, or playing an instrument. It’s synonymous with their identity.

For Leftwich, his golden chalice isn’t the ever-popular Star Wars Arcade, or the Ms. Pac-Man machine he revisited late one evening to reclaim his spot atop the leaderboard. Not even the exceedingly rare Warp Warp cabinet, recently restored and living comfortably in Leftwich’s collection, takes that honor.

Instead, it’s a little known ditty called Circus Charlie. A game he used to play at Roses while waiting on his mom to check-out.

And that’s the goal of Leftwich’s greatest missionary endeavor at Wieners and Losers. He knows you can play any arcade game you want on a smartphone, computer, or home gaming system, and many times for free. But those are like Frankenstein’s monster – all the nuts and bolts, and none of the heart. So by opening the doors to his private collection, Leftwich hopes to raise money to restore more machines. He’s offering hot dogs and jukebox full of decade-perfect hits.

Most importantly, Leftwich is giving visitors an experience they can’t find anywhere else. A look back at youthful summers, or endless weekends with quarters and friends. He’s bringing back a cultural experience long since forgotten. And he couldn’t happier to spread the good word.

Wieners and Losers is currently accepting visitors for upcoming weekends. Admission is $10 for 3 hours of free-play. Concessions, including one of the best hot-dogs in Winston, are available for purchase on-site. All proceeds go to benefit Wieners and Losers and the culturally significant preservation of arcade gaming