If I sit perfectly still and squint a little, I can venture back in time, through the dusty drapes of my memory to the early days of childhood. As the years contract and slide behind me, I feel myself shrinking, my arms and legs growing thinner, my mind releasing its vast collection of clutter.
After the final barrier yields and drops away, I break out into an open area where the whole world is down here, flat and cool, and where the ceiling might as well be the sky. It’s clear and quiet. My short pants are corduroy, held up by suspenders. I am three years old. A smooth, white, metallic box rests on the linoleum floor. I kneel in front of it and begin to turn the thin crank on its right side. The song Pop Goes the Weasel matches the speed of the crank, sounding stifled and clunky, as if I’m listening to it from the next room, with my ear pressed to the wall. After fifteen seconds of tentative turning, the lid on the box releases and a demonic toy clown flies from its depths, swaying and squeaking and scaring the life out of me.
As much as I hate this experience, I can’t stop. Once my heart resumes a normal pace, I push down on the top of the clown’s head, close the lid, and repeat the ritual. Again, and again.
Most likely, my mother has sent me away from her private conversation and told me to go play with the jack-in-the-box. But that’s never how it feels. It seems more like the clown is the one who’s playing, and is letting me participate only because it needs air, but can’t reach the crank from inside its container. Adding to my anxiety is the fact that his emergence never becomes predictable. Rather, he leaps up at different points in the song, as if to prevent me from adjusting to a pattern and preparing for the fright. I don’t like the clown’s face, especially his smile and the texture of the plastic, and am compelled to seal him under the lid. But once hidden, he sends an irresistible signal to my brain, and I again set him free.
The jack-in-the-box is my introduction to pointless diversions that appear to be designed for nothing more than pure annoyance and frustration. A few years later, I am playing board games that require the roll of dice, or the careful flick of a spinning arrow. In the most memorable example, the goal is to disperse four colored tokens from the safety of my home area, launching them out into traffic around a long, senseless loop and back again. After my turn, one of the other players inevitably lands on the same space. My piece is kicked out and I have to start over. I don’t understand. The space has plenty of room for both tokens. Besides, I was there first, so why am I the one who has to leave? Just as the jack-in-the-box was supposed to help develop valuable hand-eye coordination, this one has been marketed, I’m sure, as a way to learn strategy, patience, and perseverance. The only thing I’m learning, though, is that my brothers and cousins are out to get me, and that they’re all stupid jerks. Whenever they show up, someone pulls out the game, or some variation, and I’m once more subjected to the humiliation of being returned, repeatedly, to the very spot where I began.
This game will soon be replaced by more complicated alternatives, each riddled with mysterious rules that I try but fail to comprehend. Out of all the games I despise, my favorite is one called Life. It allows me to move a small car around a board that includes bridges, banked hills, and a built-in spinner. I’m so distracted by these novelties that I sometimes fail to notice how pathetic I am at actually playing the game. I never win, but I don’t care. At least I’m not being sent back to the beginning every time I start to make some progress. Most intriguing is this idea that I get to decide things for my family. And I get to drive. The car has six holes, meant to accommodate plastic pegs that represent me, my wife, and our children. The rule book for Life is also where I first come across the word spouse. Much later, in my real life, I will be momentarily startled when I meet a man who has a spouse, and her name is Peg.
* * * * *
The worst game of all is Monopoly. Right from the beginning, I am thrown off balance by the choice of tokens, forced to decide if I want to be a dog, an iron, a boot, a thimble, a purse, or a hat. No matter which I choose, someone makes fun of me.
“You want to be an iron?”
No. I don’t want to be any of them, but they all picked theirs before I had a chance, and the iron is the only one left. I really just want to watch cartoons. But as with the jack-in-the-box, I’ve been somehow coerced into participating in this grueling ordeal. I march around the board, taking two hundred dollars from the banker and almost immediately forking it over to someone else because I’ve landed on a property where he’s built a string of hotels. Who told him to put all those hotels there? Not me. I’m just passing through, not spending the night. I don’t even know where I’m going. There’s no end in sight, and when I look ahead, I see only an endless path of financial obligation.
The cash continues to vanish. I land on Water Works, which is just a picture of a faucet that, for some unknown reason, turns into another debt. I draw a card and am told to pay a luxury tax on a diamond ring. I don’t remember buying a diamond ring. I’m an iron. What would I even do with a ring? I’m sent to jail without explanation or legal representation. I land on a railroad and I’m out a huge wad of cash. Then I owe money to a guy named Marvin Gardens. Suddenly, I don’t have a white dollar bill to my name, and I’m confronted with yet another new word: bankrupt.
* * * * *
When the adults invite me to join their games, the story is pretty much the same. We play Crazy Eights, an activity with rules so complex that I’m sure the other players are inventing them as we go along. We play bingo, but I can’t keep up, and while I’m searching for B-12 or G-47, the caller is already three numbers ahead. We play gin rummy, and I show my hand to my father, who shakes his head and advises me to pick another card.
As my aunt scoops up her latest pile of winning chips, I think of the jack-in-the-box, and how harmless and lovable he really was. I wonder where he is now, and if there’s a small, nervous child around who occasionally pops open the lid for him. I miss that little clown, and his kind face. I hope he’s still smiling.
Chichina
March 24, 2014
I love your sojourns to your past, amigo. As adults, we can often forget how perplexing life can be to children.
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bronxboy55
March 25, 2014
When exactly does that perplexing thing stop?
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Patti Kuche
March 24, 2014
That advertising slogan “fun for the whole family!” didn’t fit with us. So pleased to see I am in good company, thank you Charles, you dealt a good one here!
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bronxboy55
March 25, 2014
Didn’t the games always come in a box with pictures of people having the time of their lives? That wasn’t us either.
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georgettesullins
March 24, 2014
I like games with a beginning, middle and reasonable end. Monopoly went on forever like “This is the song that never ends”. I just never liked singing that tune. Give me word games like good ole “Password” now replaced by “Outburst” or “Taboo.” And, I love to play Scrabble even if I lose. If I come up with a great 5, 6 or 7 letter word, I really don’t care if I win.
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bronxboy55
March 25, 2014
I’m the same way, Georgette, especially with Scrabble. I tend to go for the elegant move, rather than the high score. Monopoly was a little too complicated, or we were just too young. I’m surprised we didn’t beat each other up after every game.
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ranu802
March 24, 2014
It is hard being a kid the good old adults always make fun of you.Monopoly is quite the game,my brother always stole money from the bank,he conveniently sat next to it and stole the play money whenever he was out of cash. You could do the same but I forgot you were the kid, you felt safer with Jack-in the Box, than Scrabble or Monopoly. You probably like them now,you’ve learned the trick.
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bronxboy55
March 26, 2014
I often suspected one of my cousins of stealing, too, Ranu. Somehow, he was always the banker.
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Mikels Skele
March 24, 2014
Monopoly. Two older brothers. Enough said.
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bronxboy55
March 26, 2014
A game isn’t much fun when the only thing you have to look forward to is Free Parking. Good to hear from you, Mikels.
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Mikels Skele
March 26, 2014
Or when new rules emerge every time you think you’re getting ahead. 😉
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bronxboy55
March 27, 2014
I find that always happens when I’m learning a new game with someone who’s played it a lot. It’s the “Oh, I forgot to tell you” rule.
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The Moon is a Naked Banana
March 24, 2014
Children are no better than adults in their addiction to doing things which fill them with fear. You do not like it, you would be angry if anyone else did it to you, but it is something that you have to do.
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bronxboy55
March 26, 2014
Something like those rides at the amusement park.
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icedteawithlemon
March 24, 2014
I so love when you pull back the “dusty drapes” of your memory to re-visit your childhood days. Not only do you express those memories with such eloquence and charm, but every time–every time!–your stories elicit long-buried memories of my own. I was always bored by Monopoly and often took wild risks to speed up bankruptcy so that I could go ride my bike or read my book. But when my mom finally introduced me to card games–Old Maid and then rummy and then Rook–ahh, those were special days indeed. Thanks for the memories, Charles.
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bronxboy55
March 26, 2014
Thank you, Karen. I’d forgotten about that tactic, learned after too many endless games, of losing on purpose. I used to get into arguments with opponents who wanted to lend me money so I could keep playing. I have a feeling some of them grew up to become real bankers.
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Kathryn McCullough
March 24, 2014
Gosh, I love that line–“The ceiling might as well be the sky.” Fabulous, especially to someone who is writing a memoir about my childhood. Hope you have a merry Monday, my friend.
Hugs from Ecuador,
Kathy
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bronxboy55
March 26, 2014
Thanks, Kathy. I hope the memoir is going well.
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susielindau
March 24, 2014
Our generation played a lot of board games for the lack of better things to do. Somewhere along the line, I burned out on them. Every once in a while, I get the urge to play Scrabble…. 🙂
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bronxboy55
March 26, 2014
But do you still have a collection of board games, stacked up on a shelf in the back of a closet?
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susielindau
March 26, 2014
We have almost all of them. Danny used to be in the wholesale toy and school supply business. 🙂
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genusrosa
March 24, 2014
I was fascinated with Author Cards…could have played it for hours if my older siblings had indulged me; now I collect the actual books instead of the cards. Loved the ‘spouse named Peg’…once again you’ve given us a great journey back in time!
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bronxboy55
March 26, 2014
Games that are both fun and educational — there’s an idea that still hasn’t quite caught on.
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Diane Henders
March 24, 2014
Thanks for the chuckles, as usual! I’ve never played Life, but your take on Monopoly sounds a lot like life to me: “I don’t even know where I’m going. There’s no end in sight, and when I look ahead, I see only an endless path of financial obligation.” I don’t even have a ‘Get Out Of Jail Free’ card… 😉
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bronxboy55
March 26, 2014
I have doubles, Diane. I’ll send you one.
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Diane Henders
March 26, 2014
Awesome! Thanks! 🙂
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sheenmeem
March 24, 2014
Loved the post. Brought back all the nostalgia of childhood.
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bronxboy55
March 27, 2014
I’m glad you liked it.
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Marie
March 24, 2014
In this sharing your lyricism as a storyteller outshines the humor that I have come to identify as a hallmark of your craft. Love!
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bronxboy55
March 27, 2014
Thanks, Marie. I consider you a master of lyricism, so your positive feedback means a lot.
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Diane Holcomb
March 24, 2014
God, that Jack-in-the-Box was scary. You’re right! There’s a giant automated plastic character named “Laffing Sal” at a funhouse in San Francisco that scares the bejesus out of me, even as an adult. She looms over you, bobbing and wobbling and cackling. It’s downright creepy.
Thanks for the memories, pal. I think I need a tranquilizer.
Love your writing, and humor. Look forward to your next post!
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bronxboy55
March 27, 2014
It’s interesting that the very word — funhouse — makes us a little uneasy. I wonder why we equate fear with fun.
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earthriderjudyberman
March 24, 2014
I wonder if that jack-in-the-box is the reason that some kids are afraid of clowns. That would unhinge me. Your experiences, Charles, mirror many of mine. Your stories are funny. Great therapy as I try to avoid the painful memories of childhood and board games.
Bless my Grammy for teaching me how to play Solitaire and how to cheat it. She told me she was playing the Devil and had to cheat or he’d win. Seemed logical to me. 😉
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bronxboy55
March 27, 2014
I think you’re right, Judy. And real clowns are so much bigger, and tend to do weird things. It seems to have something to do with unpredictability.
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thecontentedcrafter
March 24, 2014
I almost spat my morning coffee when you revealed your momentary discombobulation on meeting a man with a spouse named Peg …….. fantastic sentence! Fantastic post – I am waiting – and shall buy the book 🙂
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bronxboy55
March 27, 2014
Which book?
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thecontentedcrafter
March 27, 2014
The one you are about to write based on your blog posts 🙂
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bronxboy55
March 28, 2014
I did publish one at the end of 2011, so it includes only the first year and a half. (See the My Books page above.)
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reneejohnsonwrites
March 24, 2014
I adore board games. As kids, we didn’t hang around a television set. We played board games; monopoly, battleship, scrabble, operation. A real slice of nostalgia here.
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bronxboy55
March 27, 2014
I still like Scrabble, too. And there’s another one called Upwords. Have you played that?
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Greg
March 24, 2014
Monopoly; causing family arguments since 1933!
Never played with a Jack in the Box, but I hate clowns, so I can’t imagine that would have gone too well, either.
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bronxboy55
March 27, 2014
It’s amazing how many people hate clowns. How did they ever get to be so popular, and prevalent?
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Aarti
March 25, 2014
I remember playing Ludo with my cousins and losing every time because they used to move the tokens when I wasn’t looking! You and I seem to have had the same experience with Monopoly too!
I enjoyed this post a lot! 🙂
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bronxboy55
March 28, 2014
Maybe if I’d tried a little harder at Monopoly, I might have learned a little more about money, and how to handle it. I’ve never heard of Ludo. Is it the same kind of game?
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Aarti
March 31, 2014
The game involving moving four coloured tokens from your home area through a loop which you’ve mentioned in your post is called Ludo! 🙂
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She's a Maineiac
March 25, 2014
Don’t feel bad. I was always the boot in Monopoly. So humiliating. And no matter what I rolled with the dice, I ended up in jail or “just visiting” jail. I don’t think I ever won that game once as my brothers were ruthless. They’d buy out all the hotels and somehow manage to put all of them on the spot I would land on over and over again.
My kids love to play UNO, now there’s a game for me. I actually can understand how it works. I still lose, though.
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bronxboy55
March 28, 2014
At least the boot could walk. Or hop. Wasn’t there also a thimble? They seem to have put a lot of thought into the rest of that game. Who was running the token department?
I don’t like Uno, because it requires you to say the name of the game. You could completely wipe out your opponents, but if you don’t yell “Uno!” you don’t win. That bothers me, although I don’t really know why.
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morristownmemos by Ronnie Hammer
March 25, 2014
My husband and his sibs used to cheat when they played Monopoly. They’d hide money and act poor: just as in real life. I never thought that playing with them was any great fun, but I was older then. My childhood consisted of family board games that were much simpler, like Parchesi and checkers. But we were fun, not cut throats.
That must be why we never became rich!
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bronxboy55
March 28, 2014
I always felt sorry for the other players, Ronnie, and I bet you did, too. That’s probably the real reason we never won.
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Talk to me...I'm your Mother
March 25, 2014
This SO MUCH reminds me of playing cards with the older girls. They would tell me to hold up my hand. I would raise my hand and they would collapse into giggles (after, I’m sure, taking one more peek at my hand). Days of trying to keep up….
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bronxboy55
March 28, 2014
And we wonder where all of these computer hackers came from. They were the same people who used to cheat at Monopoly and cards when they were kids.
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Talk to me...I'm your Mother
March 28, 2014
Or their children!
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raeme67
March 25, 2014
I usually win at card games., Except that time when my brother cheated at UNO, He was hiding draw four wild cards up the sleeves of his shirt, pretending to drop a pencil, ducking under the table to retrieve the pencil and to remove a draw four wild card from his sleeve. All went well until the 3rd or 4th hand when one concealed card fell out of his sleeve unplanned. The game ended with a very mad older sister dramatically stomping off and slamming her bedroom door, muttering curse words under her breath.
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bronxboy55
March 28, 2014
The fake pencil-drop was one of the essential strategies of childhood.
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raeme67
March 28, 2014
Obviously, it worked out for my brother,until the unfortunate day. 🙂
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Elyse
March 25, 2014
You had me in tears with “I don’t remember buying a diamond ring. I’m an iron!” Brilliant. I always insisted on being the doggie or I wouldn’t play. I still hate ironing!
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bronxboy55
March 29, 2014
There was a cool car, but someone else always picked it first. And there was also a ship, although it tended to tip over a lot, which didn’t help my confidence.
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Doug Bittinger
March 25, 2014
Brilliant. I haven’t played games in a couple of decades, and for good reasons. Most of these you just listed. Games are supposed to be fun, right?
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bronxboy55
March 29, 2014
The people pictured on the box seem to be having fun. But then, so do the people shown on tax software packaging.
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Stacie Chadwick
March 26, 2014
Charles,
For me, there’s no comparison between anything involving a clown (or worse, a mime) and board games. Clowns are evil creatures that should be eradicated from this earth and just capture all the railroads in Monopoly and you’ll be fine. 😁
Stacie
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bronxboy55
March 29, 2014
So what is it about clowns and mimes? Is it the silence? Or their penchant for gloves and an abundance of makeup? Whoever handles their public relations has been doing a lousy job.
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Stacie Chadwick
March 30, 2014
All of the above plus their reputation for being loud chewers.
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jeanjames
March 26, 2014
Great story!! Now that I have children of my own, I’m back to playing all of my childhood games, and am reminded of how much I didn’t like them then or now. As for those Life game pegs, someone dared me to eat one once during a game and I did, I guess it was a Life game of truth or dare, much more exciting than just a plain old board game. (I completely forgot about that until reading your post lol). Now you’re shaking up my ‘dusty drapes’.
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bronxboy55
March 29, 2014
Maybe you can answer a question for me, Jean. Was the name of the game Chutes and Ladders changed back to Snakes and Ladders? That has to be the worst title for a kids’ game I’ve ever heard.
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jeanjames
March 29, 2014
I took a kid survey (because I just happen to have a housefull of kids for a birthday party) and none of them heard of Snakes and Ladders. So these modern day kids said, “Google it”, which I did and found out that Snakes and Ladders was actually an ancient Indian game that made its way from India to England then to the States where the name was changed to Chutes and Ladders. The Chutes resemble the shape of the snakes. The ladders symbolized virtue and the snakes symbolized vices. Who knew such a simplistic childhood game had a lesson in morals and values. I couldn’t find any information that they were changing the name back though. Thanks for the question, I learned something new today…lol.
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bronxboy55
March 30, 2014
I saw the game in a store recently, and it was called Snakes and Ladders. I understand that was the original name, but it just sounds too scary for little kids.
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jeanjames
March 30, 2014
I agree it does sound scary for little kids. What store did you see the game in?
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Betty Londergan
March 26, 2014
I just spent the afternoon with an 11-month old girl, and we were doing fine until I played the Jack-in-the-Box (and it was an old, wooden version – not even the super scary modern kind) — and she looked at me in shock and burst into tears. So .. yeah, I feel you! And p.s. I always felt totally stupid and overwhelmed by all the card games and — Concentration. Even the name still gives me an insecurity attack!)
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bronxboy55
March 29, 2014
I think the jack-in-the-box is parental revenge for all those sleepless nights caused by their newborn children. And the fact that there’s an old, wooden version just means that the problem has been around forever. As for the card games, I still feel stupid, especially because I always seem to be the one trying to learn the rules — from people who have been playing the games for years.
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Sandra Parsons
March 26, 2014
Reading the comments, I feel less bad. Is there anyone out there who actually likes (or wins at) Monopoly? It just makes sense that my stint as a banker was a rather brief one.
I like games where strategy outweighs chance, but even those tend to screw me over sometimes due to my damn bad luck in rolling dice. And then there are the ones where you end up as “collateral damage” to your spouse’s strategy. Worst marital argument ever! On the whole, I think I’m better off hitting the movies. Thanks for the giggle though.
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bronxboy55
March 29, 2014
If we can just continue to avoid getting trapped into learning bridge, I think we’ll be all right. (You don’t play bridge, do you?)
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Sandra Parsons
March 30, 2014
I’ve resisted every attempt the English side of my family made to teach me. Well, I think my brain deserves the credit for this achievement, not my willpower 😉 We Germans play Skat and Doppelkopf instead.
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silkpurseproductions
March 27, 2014
We weren’t allowed to play games that had cards as my grandmother insisted they were “the devil’s tools”. There was one exception, though. It was a game called “Lexicon” and it was exactly like scrabble except the letter tiles were cards. I learned a lot from that game and enjoyed it. We also played crokinole which was a big wooden disk with a drop out in the centre. You would flick little round disks and try to get them as close to the centre as possible while knocking your opponents off the board, with the big payoff being getting it right in the hole. Those other games were played at friends houses. We didn’t have them.
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bronxboy55
March 30, 2014
I’d never heard of crokinole until a few years ago, Michelle, but apparently it’s very popular here in Atlantic Canada.
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silkpurseproductions
March 30, 2014
It was a family/friend favourite in our house. We use to have “tournaments”. The best part was that all ages could play. Some of the grandchildren’s favourite memories are playing crokinole with their grandfather.
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Chris12
March 27, 2014
Nice post Charles. For me, it has to be the game, Sorry. It gave me the satisfaction of sending my brother back to his home base. Plus, it allowed sarcastic apologies. What’s better than a sarcastic apology when you’re a kid?
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bronxboy55
March 30, 2014
Parcheesi, Sorry, Trouble, Aggravation — aren’t they all the same game?
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Philster999
March 29, 2014
OK, I laughed so hard at your Life / wife-named-Peg epiphany that I think I peed a little…
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bronxboy55
March 30, 2014
True story, Phil. And probably the only epiphany I’ve ever had
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daisy
March 29, 2014
Charles, this was beautiful. What a literary journey you took us on in those opening paragraphs. Just lovely.
And I’m sorry you always had to be the iron. I used to grab for the Toto dog so quickly I always got him. But now I have a daughter and her 5-year-old reflexes beat me every time. 🙂
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bronxboy55
March 30, 2014
Have you seen all the variations of Monopoly? I think every city in the world has its own version.
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Choosing
March 30, 2014
I never had the nerve for Monopoly…. it just took soooooo (yawn!) loooooong!
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bronxboy55
April 2, 2014
I wonder what the world record is for longest Monopoly game.
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Barbara Rodgers
April 1, 2014
Ah, the games people play… Thanks for the chuckles this morning! You make me remember how baffling it can be for a child trying to understand the world of older folks. We play a lot of “The Settlers of Catan” with our kids and their spouses these days.
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bronxboy55
April 2, 2014
There’s another game I’d never heard of, Barbara. Is it something like The Oregon Trail?
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Barbara Rodgers
April 7, 2014
I had never heard of the Oregon Trail game before, but my husband informs me that it’s an online game. Settlers of Catan is a very complicated (to me) strategy board game… I never win but do enjoy the attempt.
“Players assume the roles of settlers, each attempting to build and develop holdings while trading and acquiring resources. Players are rewarded points as their settlements grow; the first to reach a set number of points is the winner.”
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rangewriter
April 6, 2014
I never cared for games either, especially card games cuz those didn’t even have any cool bridges, dials, cars, pegs, or other accoutrements. I’m mystified by how many people have graduated from boring card and board games to time-sucking online games. Take your farm and get outta my way! ;-}
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bronxboy55
April 13, 2014
Games of some kind have been around for thousands of years. I wonder what psychologists have to say about them.
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rangewriter
April 15, 2014
Probably something about keeping the mind active and bonding with other humans. I’d rather read a book.
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bronxboy55
May 7, 2014
Me too.
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lostnchina
May 19, 2014
During my time in China, I’d taken to playing online Scrabble with people around the world and have only very recently realized how sad an activity this is. While I enjoy the challenge of learning new words and strategies, I’ve no desire to know that I’m playing against Becky from Montana, whose dog has some goiter, or Bob, who wants to know how far China is from Pocatello, Idaho, and whether I’m married. A lady actually swore at me the other day (ie. Typed a bunch of curse words on the computer in the little chat box on the right side of the screen), because I wouldn’t extend her time. (She was trying to spell something like, CAKE, and it took her more than 2 minutes.) We non-socializing board-game players who like board games are all doomed, Charles. Hilarious post, and oh so true.
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bronxboy55
May 23, 2014
Your online Scrabble adventures would make a great post, Susan. Or have you already published one? If you have, please let me know, because I’d love to read it. And how did you finally get rid of Bob from Pocatello?
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lostnchina
June 13, 2014
That’s a great idea for a post, Charles. As for Bob from Pocatello, you’ll just have to read it in the yet-to-be-written post, I suppose.
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