By Sue Murphy
I played a lot of board games over the holidays. Our granddaughters are now in the Candyland-Cootie-Chutes and Ladders stage. Our younger grandson is still banned from play because he insists on tasting all the game pieces.
At the ripe old age of 7, my older grandson has now graduated to The Game of Life. During his Candyland days, he was … well, let’s just say he had a loose regard for the rules. On his third turn, he would miraculously draw the chocolate bonbon card and sprint ahead to win the game. To his credit, he also cheated for his poor Grandma who, being less Candyland savvy, would pull the cupcake card, which sounds like a good thing, but isn’t. “You can draw again, Grandma,” he would offer.
There are no bonbon cards in The Game of Life. You spin the wheel and you take your chances. I have the old-school version, where you start off as either a pink or blue peg in a car with $10,000 in your pocket and must immediately decide whether you want to go to college. (So much for childhood.) The non-college route hands you a guaranteed low-level salary. If you choose to go to college, you have a chance to become a doctor or lawyer and earn a bit more. The lesson, I suppose, is “go to college,” but the game does not account for plumbers and electricians and one-year-and-out basketball stars who spend low-level incomes on shoes. Maybe that’s in the newer version.
Either way, you motor along in your new career for a few more spaces until you arrive at a square that says, “Stop: Get married.” You dutifully load a random peg in the passenger seat and “Collect presents.” Strangely, this spouse is not mentioned again for the rest of the game. Same thing goes for your children. “A son/daughter is born! Collect presents.” That’s it, as if your family were simply pinheaded accessories.
This is, of course, wrong. Those pegs matter. Your significant other – let’s call her Peggy – is crucial. She will be next to you as you navigate all those other spaces. When your well strikes oil, Peggy will be there. When your uncle leaves you the skunk farm and it costs $20,000 to unload it, Peggy will be at your side. If Peggy is not supportive, it will be difficult to rebuild after your house is hit by a tornado. If Peggy is not 100 percent on board, you won’t be able to enjoy your new yacht. Put a good, decent Peggy in the passenger seat and the road ahead will be easier, no matter what happens.
In The Game of Life, a lot of things happen and it’s best to be prepared. Just in passing, you will come across squares that say, “If you want to buy life insurance, pay $10,000.” Same thing with car and fire insurance. I helped my grandson with this one. Always buy the insurance. Peggy will remind you, I’m sure.
At the end of the Game of Life, players must Stop and face the Day of Reckoning, which is not about your eternal soul but your net financial worth. You can become a millionaire or be forced into the poor house. It’s all in the spin of the wheel.
Two things are certain in The Game of Life: payday and taxes. In real life, it’s only taxes. The rest is part effort and part dumb luck.
My advice? Be a good peg. Pick your companion peg carefully, and pay attention to the road ahead. And, of course, buy the insurance.
