Revisiting the days when the mob controlled the jukeboxes – National
My first job was at a place called Frosty’s, the only real hangout in my small prairie town. The front third of the building was dedicated to cheeseburgers and soft ice cream; further back in the middle was a modest pinball arcade, while in the rear was a pool hall.
Many God-fearing townsfolk considered this to be three levels of Hell, descending from evil, dinner-spoiling sweets to money-sucking coin-operated amusements, to the domain of smokers, ne’er-do-wells, and hooligans.In the middle of it all was a commercial jukebox, a beat-up thing with terrible audio, and about 50 records. A quarter got you three plays. Rob, one of the pool-playing regulars, would begin his hustling by changing a 10-dollar bill into quarters (the equivalent of almost $50 today), all of which were spent on the sa...







