In my grandparents' garage in Yuba City my Nana hid and smoked cigarettes while my cousins and I played PACHINKO! I loved the smooth heavy feel of the pachinko balls in my palm,  plunking the balls into the slot, watching them plink plink plonk down the spikes and the sound of the metal balls falling on the cement floor and rolling. I liked the knowing that with two smooth surfaces the rolling could go on forever. I think my Papa got the machine during the Korean war. I wonder how much stuff they let you bring back, does the Air Force enforce a baggage limit?

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