I met Duane Cassidy at a neighbour's party about a month ago or so. Well, as much as one "meets" people at parties. You know, a handshake, an exchange of a few pleasantries and off ya go to the next chance at a conversation in hopes that one will catch your interest. The reason I remember Duane out of more than the 20 other or so guests is mainly due to what he said (and what ensued) once we were introduced by our common host.

"Oh so you are Rob, the guy who fixes pinball machines, I may need your help." Duane uttered.

I quickly replied with a smirk, "Well yes, I guess you can say that is who I am, but I am occasionally capable of being other things  - like being a son of a bitch." 

Powerful and affirmative laughter came from Duane, one of the best laughs I have ever heard in my born days. A loud and hearty, non-abrasive "look at me" laugh. Just right, bang on and sincere. Totally life affirming, so it made sense that we got along immediately.

Turns out that he became the owner of an old pinball for 75 bucks 20 years ago from a guy who hired him to renovate his basement. The client didn't want it anymore even though it was still working. Duane fell in love with the artwork, and didn't really care if it worked or not. You see, Duane is first an artist and then a contractor, (yes, one must earn a living) and he hardly ever played the thing, just thought it looked cool in his son's basement room. Duane is about 50 years-old now with a younger French Canadian girlfriend and an adult son who just left home. The basement was now free for him to build a new and different space there.

A week or two go by, and Duane calls my cell while I am driving frantically away from a particularly frustrating day at the corporate "fishstore" and casually asks which Wednesday we had booked for fixing his pinball machine. I yank my agenda out of my briefcase while driving and tell him that he is booked for the 20th of November at 18:30. "No problem see ya next week", he says "just checking that I wasn't waiting here for nothin'." I thought to myself, Duane must be excited about fixing his pin even if he doesn't show it.

He lives on the east side of Montreal, near de Lorimier street in one of those typical three story apartment row houses with those outdoor spiral steel stairwells so very indigenous to Montreal and San Fransisco. He lives on the first floor which has indoor access to a low ceiling basement which he is now in the final stages of making into one of the coolest workshop/studio/man caves I have ever seen

Duane said that when he started renovating this basement, to make a shop for himself, he also decided to build a small bar and now wanted to get this old pinball working properly and put it in there for his friends and him to play once in a while. So at the party where we first talked, I had asked him a bunch of questions to find out if this was going to be a shop job or a home service call. From what he could tell me, it turns out that I would be visiting his man cave in this predominantly French part of Montreal. What was an anglo like Duane Cassidy doing smack in the middle of that area like that was a bit of a curiosity to me when I arrived there tonight to fix this Gottlieb EM, but English Montrealers are like no other English Canadians, the ones that stayed here through the two exoduses are just cooler by the nature of having stayed and also living so close to the French culture In the best of cases it does eventually rub off the square edges that remain on some who are open enough to give things a chance.

I anticipated this service call to be a simple flipper tune up and most likely a broken e.o.s. switch for the single pop bumper that I was made to understand wasn't responding. So I arrived prepared, well at least with the proper tools and parts. The space itself knocked my perception off its beams and into a field of dreams of my own.

I arrived and Duane greeted me with a sincere handshake after wiping his hands on a rag he pulled out of his back pocket of his work pants, and asked if I had any trouble finding the place. None at all, except trying to see the small numbered addresses in the November night was tough. (No biggie, you always have to park a little further anyway in these neighbourhoods and walk a bit, too many cars.) Once inside I couldn't quite believe what I saw, an incredibly warm and peaceful home decorated in Buddhist fashion with a powerfully present simplicity and authenticity and style. Wood, poufs and crooked wooden plank floors that looked absolutely right to be the way they were. We walked through the living room and towards a discreet stairwell that led to a beautifully intricate maze of hallways in a basement area that looked like the catacombs you would find in other places than here. It is difficult for me to describe this accurately, but when we came upon a small room off to the side arranged with a bar to sit a maximum of three people, I felt as if there could be room for ten people in that same space along with the pinball machine which was on the east wall. There was a sense of open space, yet the place was quite small, - couldn't quite put my finger on it. I can only say that Duane's creativity in his use of objects & space was greater than the average person, an understanding of differences which creates a richer experience than cutting the place up with straight lines. The whole basement was simply comfortable and accommodating.

The machine itself was pretty dirty and the red flipper caps were actually held together with masking tape and rubber bands over that. I started by replacing these cracked flipper shoes with real Gottlieb ones (P/N C-13150) and put on fresh new red rubbers (3/8" in width for Gottliebs) and waxed the playfield and cut my hand several times in the process against the sharp edge of the single broken bumper body in the middle of the playfield. It got me several times as I looked around this incredible small space while I waxed, buffed and cleaned. As well, the actual end of stroke switch under the pop bumper spoon trigger switch was fine to my surprise. The culprit for the lazy pop bumper scoring was actually a badly gapped and dirty switch on the pop bumper relay that was causing the random and occasional scoring. Clean the points, tighten the switch stack, no adjustment required after that, the switch gap looked good to the eye. So I rapidly manually actuated the relay to get things hopping electrically as the pop bumper came back to life. Duane watched attentively and appreciated how nicely his machine was starting to react to the silver ball.

There was also an out of whack e.o.s. switch on the 1000 point score reel on the first player that was making that particular reel stay energized occasionally through the 1000 point relay, but once that was rectified, "Jungle" started looking like a game I wanted to play. The only weird issue was how strong the flippers were, and I think they were most likely responsible for the broken pop bumper body that cut me up. Installed were Williams flipper coils (FL-21-375/28-400) and not the standard Gottlieb A-5141 coil. Although both Williams and Gottlieb machines of that era ran on 24 volts as opposed to Bally and their 50 volt scenario, these flipper coils were reeking havoc on this Gottlieb. Would have to come back to put those right and change the broken bumper body before it cut someone else up.

Back upstairs I met his girlfriend whose smile and grace was as warm as the space they inhabit together. We settled the invoice and off I went into the Montreal night thinking about how this city is the only place I know of where these two cultures carry each others accents and a "joie de vivre" together in the best of all human scenarios.

Robert A. Baraké  (R.A.B.)

I met Duane Cassidy at a neighbour's party about a month ago or so. Well, as much as one "meets" people at parties. You know, a handshake, an exchange of a few pleasantries and off ya go to the next chance at a conversation in hopes that one will catch your interest. The reason I remember Duane out of more than the 20 other or so guests is mainly due to what he said (and what ensued) once we were introduced by our common host.

"Oh so you are Rob, the guy who fixes pinball machines, I may need your help." Duane uttered.

I quickly replied with a smirk, "Well yes, I guess you can say that is who I am, but I am occasionally capable of being other things  - like being a son of a bitch." 

Powerful and affirmative laughter came from Duane, one of the best laughs I have ever heard in my born days. A loud and hearty, non-abrasive "look at me" laugh. Just right, bang on and sincere. Totally life affirming, so it made sense that we got along immediately.

Turns out that he became the owner of an old pinball for 75 bucks 20 years ago from a guy who hired him to renovate his basement. The client didn't want it anymore even though it was still working. Duane fell in love with the artwork, and didn't really care if it worked or not. You see, Duane is first an artist and then a contractor, (yes, one must earn a living) and he hardly ever played the thing, just thought it looked cool in his son's basement room. Duane is about 50 years-old now with a younger French Canadian girlfriend and an adult son who just left home. The basement was now free for him to build a new and different space there.

A week or two go by, and Duane calls my cell while I am driving frantically away from a particularly frustrating day at the corporate "fishstore" and casually asks which Wednesday we had booked for fixing his pinball machine. I yank my agenda out of my briefcase while driving and tell him that he is booked for the 20th of November at 18:30. "No problem see ya next week", he says "just checking that I wasn't waiting here for nothin'." I thought to myself, Duane must be excited about fixing his pin even if he doesn't show it.

He lives on the east side of Montreal, near de Lorimier street in one of those typical three story apartment row houses with those outdoor spiral steel stairwells so very indigenous to Montreal and San Fransisco. He lives on the first floor which has indoor access to a low ceiling basement which he is now in the final stages of making into one of the coolest workshop/studio/man caves I have ever seen

Duane said that when he started renovating this basement, to make a shop for himself, he also decided to build a small bar and now wanted to get this old pinball working properly and put it in there for his friends and him to play once in a while. So at the party where we first talked, I had asked him a bunch of questions to find out if this was going to be a shop job or a home service call. From what he could tell me, it turns out that I would be visiting his man cave in this predominantly French part of Montreal. What was an anglo like Duane Cassidy doing smack in the middle of that area like that was a bit of a curiosity to me when I arrived there tonight to fix this Gottlieb EM, but English Montrealers are like no other English Canadians, the ones that stayed here through the two exoduses are just cooler by the nature of having stayed and also living so close to the French culture In the best of cases it does eventually rub off the square edges that remain on some who are open enough to give things a chance.

I anticipated this service call to be a simple flipper tune up and most likely a broken e.o.s. switch for the single pop bumper that I was made to understand wasn't responding. So I arrived prepared, well at least with the proper tools and parts. The space itself knocked my perception off its beams and into a field of dreams of my own.

I arrived and Duane greeted me with a sincere handshake after wiping his hands on a rag he pulled out of his back pocket of his work pants, and asked if I had any trouble finding the place. None at all, except trying to see the small numbered addresses in the November night was tough. (No biggie, you always have to park a little further anyway in these neighbourhoods and walk a bit, too many cars.) Once inside I couldn't quite believe what I saw, an incredibly warm and peaceful home decorated in Buddhist fashion with a powerfully present simplicity and authenticity and style. Wood, poufs and crooked wooden plank floors that looked absolutely right to be the way they were. We walked through the living room and towards a discreet stairwell that led to a beautifully intricate maze of hallways in a basement area that looked like the catacombs you would find in other places than here. It is difficult for me to describe this accurately, but when we came upon a small room off to the side arranged with a bar to sit a maximum of three people, I felt as if there could be room for ten people in that same space along with the pinball machine which was on the east wall. There was a sense of open space, yet the place was quite small, - couldn't quite put my finger on it. I can only say that Duane's creativity in his use of objects & space was greater than the average person, an understanding of differences which creates a richer experience than cutting the place up with straight lines. The whole basement was simply comfortable and accommodating.

The machine itself was pretty dirty and the red flipper caps were actually held together with masking tape and rubber bands over that. I started by replacing these cracked flipper shoes with real Gottlieb ones (P/N C-13150) and put on fresh new red rubbers (3/8" in width for Gottliebs) and waxed the playfield and cut my hand several times in the process against the sharp edge of the single broken bumper body in the middle of the playfield. It got me several times as I looked around this incredible small space while I waxed, buffed and cleaned. As well, the actual end of stroke switch under the pop bumper spoon trigger switch was fine to my surprise. The culprit for the lazy pop bumper scoring was actually a badly gapped and dirty switch on the pop bumper relay that was causing the random and occasional scoring. Clean the points, tighten the switch stack, no adjustment required after that, the switch gap looked good to the eye. So I rapidly manually actuated the relay to get things hopping electrically as the pop bumper came back to life. Duane watched attentively and appreciated how nicely his machine was starting to react to the silver ball.

There was also an out of whack e.o.s. switch on the 1000 point score reel on the first player that was making that particular reel stay energized occasionally through the 1000 point relay, but once that was rectified, "Jungle" started looking like a game I wanted to play. The only weird issue was how strong the flippers were, and I think they were most likely responsible for the broken pop bumper body that cut me up. Installed were Williams flipper coils (FL-21-375/28-400) and not the standard Gottlieb A-5141 coil. Although both Williams and Gottlieb machines of that era ran on 24 volts as opposed to Bally and their 50 volt scenario, these flipper coils were reeking havoc on this Gottlieb. Would have to come back to put those right and change the broken bumper body before it cut someone else up.

Back upstairs I met his girlfriend whose smile and grace was as warm as the space they inhabit together. We settled the invoice and off I went into the Montreal night thinking about how this city is the only place I know of where these two cultures carry each others accents and a "joie de vivre" together in the best of all human scenarios.

Robert A. Baraké  (R.A.B.)