A Salute to A Special Place.

The distinction between past, present and future is only an illusion, however persistent.”
Albert Einstein.

You know a place like this. Everyone does. It’s there, way in the back of your mind. You may think you’ve forgotten it, but you haven’t. It’s there, just waiting for something to bring it back to the surface. What is this special place? For some, it’s that special ball park where you and your team played a perfect game, a game that will never be repeated. For some, it might be that small college you attended, where you met the best friends you’ve ever had in your life. You still keep in touch with some of them. Maybe that special place was a hilltop, where you could see forever on a clear night, and where you and your buds just shot the breeze until all hours. Or, maybe it’s some other kind of place. These are places you always remember, places that mean something special. These are places that somehow, and for whatever reasons, become part of the very fabric that makes up your existence.

In my case, a special place came back to my mind as the result of a simple house cleaning chore. I was going through some old papers, some of which went back a few decades. The insurance policy for my first new car? (A pontiac Firebird, for those who care to know such things) From 1980? Yeah, I can shred that I think. A lot of old bills, cancelled checks, and some other items became shredder food. Then, from out of the stack, fell four green tickets. They looked sort of like movie theater tickets, but larger. They were marked “1 Coupon. Seaview Playland, Dennisport Massachusetts. I had not thought of this place for a long time, and I started to remember why, after all this time, it was special.

Seaview Playland was one of those summertime-only places on Cape Cod. It consisted of a miniature golf course, paddle boats, some batting cages, and a famous game arcade called the Barn of Fun. The Barn of Fun was literally a barn, a huge white building, with an enormous selection of arcade games, some of which were classics. A separate room housed Skee-Ball games. The coupons I mentioned were given to Skee-Ball players for getting certain scores. You would redeem the coupons for prizes at the prize counter. The prizes ranged from the category of rubber bugs and assorted joke store novelties, (1 coupon) to more useful items such as clocks and lamps. (Lots of coupons.) For the uninitiated, Skee-Ball is one of those timeless arcade games, where you roll a small wooden ball up a ramp, as though you’re bowling. The ball hits a bump, and flies upward at a sharp angle, dropping into holes arranged like a bull’s eye target. The closer you get to the center, the higher the score. It’s an acquired skill, and I didn’t do too badly with it. Of course, there were pinball machines galore. These were real pinball machines, not the video game machines of today, which are just not as much fun. Some of the arcade machines at Seaview were true relics, the likes of which will never be built again. There was a Love Tester, that measured your sex appeal. (And I’ve got a real funny story about this one, but it involves a good friend, and I’m keeping it private on his behalf.)

There was an El Toro strength tester. This one was weird. You had to grab a pair of bull’s horns that were on the front of the machine, and attempt to force them together while a huge meter measured your strength, and your buddies laughed hysterically. I never did well with that one. There were some great arcade machines, including a gypsy fortune teller in a booth. Drop in a coin, and her arm would move back and forth over some cards, and your fortune would pop out, printed on a small card. This machine resembled the one shown in the Tom Hanks’ film Big. Of course, no arcade was complete without one of those scales that gave you your horoscope and weight. 1¢ for just your weight, 5¢ for your weight and horoscope. Talk about a deal…

The main attraction of Seaview Playland though, was not so much the arcade, or the mini-golf. It served other purposes. By day, it was a place for families on vacation to take their kids, and enjoy some easy fun, and by night, it was the hot-spot for young people to meet. It was very understandable. After a day spent at the beach, or hitting the various gift and souvenir shops with mom, dad, and the kid brother or sister, teenagers want to get out and mingle with their own. Want to? Heck, they need to! (See kids? we get it better than you think.) Countless generations of teenagers and college age kids would meet at Seaview, usually at night, or perhaps on a rainy day. You could walk there from one of the countless motels or rental cottages nearby, of drive if a buddy had wheels. As soon as you arrived, you could sense something, something that said that tonight was going to be good. The ocean sounded against breakers off in the distance, a constant reminder of where you were. If the fog had rolled in, that just made it seem more summery.

Friends were easily made at Seaview Playland, it was just that kind of place. Some of those friendships went from summer to summer, and some were made for life. If you played the mini golf course, you had to engage in something that became a right of passage for teens and early 20-somethings at Seaview: you had to take the soft lead score keeping pencil, and write your name, the year of your visit, and maybe where you were from on one of the cement light poles that were around the course. How many generations of people did this? There was no way of ever knowing, but some of those light poles were just about black with the soft lead writing. Often, people would return the next year, and look for their names.

Was Seaview Playland a magical place? Well, that is arguable, but I’d say it had something, something that cannot be measured scientifically. It was family-owned by the Zinkevich family. They kept it clean and well-managed. It was the perfect place for teenagers to spend an evening just hanging out, making friends with other teens. and enjoying good times. College kids would usually get into laughing fits while playing mini golf. (Big tradition: making each other laugh to the point of loosing it, while trying to make a shot.) The only food items sold at Seaview were popcorn and soda. And damn tasty popcorn it was!

Upon finding those prize coupons, I did what any good electronics and computer geek would do: I googled Seaview Playland. What I learned was a little disappointing, but hardly surprising after all these years; the owners of Seaview Playland closed it at the conclusion of the 2004 season, after more than fifty three years in business. The town of Dennis has apparently bought the land, and the plans are to turn the seventeen acres into conservation and recreation land. I hope this happens, and that the town resists the temptations of the Dark Side (Real estate developers) The last thing this world, and Cape Cod in particular need, is another yuppie housing project, or any more trophy mansions. Hopefully, they’ll decide to install a small marker, where the Barn of Fun once stood, as a testament to a truly unique place, a place that is part of the lives of thousands of people from all over the world. But, even if this does not happen, I know that Seaview Playland will live on, in the memories of everyone who visited the place.

You know a place like this. Everyone does. It’s that special place that you think you’ve forgotten, but you haven’t. It’s a place that is part of you, part of your life. Something will make you think of it, sooner or later. Maybe you’ll run into a summertime buddy from long ago, someone you had some great times with. Or, maybe it will be something as simple as finding a prize you won for playing an arcade game, while you’re doing some household chore.

I salute anyone and everyone who has ever had an incredible summer on Cape Cod. If you feel like sharing some of your memories, by all means, post them here, or drop me a line. That especially goes for you crazy guys, who water skied on Swan Pond in Dennis, circa 1975-1980.

It has been many years since I have been to the cape. I’m thinking that maybe it’s time to correct that little oversight.

May the good times be yours!