A life in bells and whistles
Specializing in old-style fun, he keeps juke boxes and pinball machines hopping
For a broken arm, doctors won't make house calls anymore. But for a broken flipper, Paul Silva will come to you.
Silva, 59, is one of the few pinball machine repairmen who take on finicky machines in private homes. He travels around Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Maine, and now Rhode Island fixing jukeboxes, pinball machines, and video games. Recently laid off after 35 years at Somerville's Melo-Tone vending company, Silva now focuses exclusively on his independent business, Pinballs Plus. He calls himself ''semi-retired:" His hours seem to be limited by choice, not demand. With all the machines out there, he could do ''two or three jobs a day," he says.
Along with road repairs, Silva works and sells out of his Highland Avenue home near Davis Square. A modest sign on the front window is the only clue to the trip back in time that lies within.
In the three-bay garage, a 1970s Seeburg jukebox waits for Bo Duke to sidle up and pick a song. One pinball game plays ''Secret Agent Man" when you win. Another is so old it lacks flipper buttons. The house holds yet more retro merchandise: Space Invaders. Electronic darts. A 1980s CD jukebox, 5 feet tall and ready to sell.
''I never know what I'm going to be getting in," Silva says. ''I repair pretty much everything that comes my way." He focuses on mechanics while his wife of almost 40 years, Dorothy, takes the machines apart and restores their appearance.
Some of Silva's supplies and projects look downright wacky. Stripped down to coils and washers, a Williams ''Full House" pinball is nearly unrecognizable. Silva points out its skeletal tilt device, designed to prevent cheating. ''If you lift up the machine the ball would roll forward, hit the switch, and it would slam the game out." Several devices resemble old tape recorders; their sole purpose is to test digital pinball circuit boards.
Most striking of all is a 1940s Wurlitzer, its classic sock-hop oval shape wrapped in luscious coils with bubbling light tubes. It plays 78s. Valued at $9,000, it's a jukebox Silva plans to keep.
''People call and they tell me they have an antique something and nobody can fix it," he says, by way of explaining his word-of-mouth marketing strategy. His desire for repeat business overrides that for immediate gain; he charges $75 a visit, extra depending on the time required. ''I could charge them anything I wanted, but you know I want them as a customer," he says. ''I don't want a bad name, I want a good name."
''I like the pinball games over everything," he says. ''Electromechanical to the newer digital ones, it does not matter. On jukeboxes I prefer Seeburg," which he says command a better resale price and are easier to find parts for. Wurlitzers? ''They're finicky."
Jack Silva (no relation), of Pinball Warehouse in Wakefield, said home repairmen for pinball machines are definitely a declining breed. With the cost of travel time, he said, ''it just doesn't justify going into your car and doing it. Unless you really love it."
Silva doesn't worry that these machines are going the way of the four-track. After a series of mergers and closures among the five big pinball companies -- Data East, Bally, Williams, Gottlieb and Stern -- only Stern remains. Silva sounds particularly regretful over Williams's end. ''They made the best pinball games on the market . . . the electronics and the circuitry and everything was just top-notch."
However, many reproduction parts are still available, and Silva's garage is already stocked.
''Being 60 years old, I'll never run out of parts from the time I want to decide to . . ." He corrects himself: ''IF I decide to retire."![]()