I have a Bally Four Million B.C in my living room.
The machine is mine. I drove 7 hours each way with a bunch of friends to pick it up in Allentown PA.
When I look at the game, I feel at peace. I feel good. I don’t care about the dodgey mylar on the playfield. I don’t care about the slight damage to the head. I feel closure looking at my 4mbc. Closure for a dark(er) period of my life.
The whole story started a long time ago. In 2002 I think... I picked up a 4mbc. It was half painted black but I didnt care. It was my machine and back then I really wanted a 4mbc in any condition. Found it a few kilometers from where I still lived with my parents.
Fast forward a few years. It was 2006. I was in love. I was going to get married. I had to make some space for the bride to be in my tiny house. Choices had to be made and I sold my 4mbc.
Fast forward a bit more to 2014. My unhappy marriage fell apart. She left an she filed for a divorce. Then came a very long and very dark period of my life. It was so difficult I thought I would not survie the whole process.
I promised myself if I made it through the whole divorce process I would buy myself a Bally Four Million B.C.
I survived And here it is.
This machine is more than just another game. It is/was for me a faraway beacon to follow in a very dark period of my life.