The Game of Life, Modern Edition

It was so hot today, my inlaws and I sat in their air conditioned, recently remodeled kitchen with an old school Milton Bradley classic, The Game of Life.

After a few beers, my father-in-law Frank landed on a Payday space, then told me (I was the official banker) to only give him half his paycheck, since the other half was already tied up in gas, groceries, and “friggin’ taxes.”  

“...And while you’re at it, banker boy, maybe we should count what’s left in yer bank and make sure you’re not skimming any off the top.”  Frank is frank.

As I counted out the musty Life-money from the till (he wasn’t kidding about my bank audit), I began to wonder--what would The Game of Life look like if it were played by modern rules?  Here’s a few ideas:

The college career path:
Automatically pay to get an advanced degree, but since there are no jobs in the field in which you majored, you end up with a lower salary working as either a barrista, seasonal employee at UPS, or interning at the company that could have afforded to hire you 10 years ago.  Student loans eat away at Paydays for the 15 turns.

The career path (no college)
Land a fat union or government sector job, put in a short work week with awesome benefits, and make a higher salary.  However, toward the end of the game, your retirement pension is unexpectedly taken away and you have to play for an additional 25 turns.

All the game pieces are SUV’s, and they’re too big to fit on the board.

The first 7.5 Paydays of the game go directly to federal taxes.

Instead of “Get Engaged,” there are spaces for “Get a Roommate” and for “Live Together.”

“Buy a House” is replaced by “Live at Home even though you’re 35”

If you decide to get married, you can place either a pink or a blue game piece in the passenger seat.

“Share the Wealth” cards are replaced by “Mooch” cards.

There are 12 “Lose your Job” spaces on the board.

Just as in the regular Game of Life, the Modern Edition would have “Life” tiles.  These include:

Stimulus Package!  Collect 1000

Your Child “Needs” Lollapalooza Tickets!  Pay 500

Get Visible Tattoo!  Pay 500

Remove Visible Tattoo!  Pay 1500

Enroll in Therapy!  Pay 5000

Caught Illegally Downloading Music and Made an Example of!  Pay 250,000 and lose a turn

Supreme Court Makes Your Livelihood Obsolete!  Change Careers

Inheritance!  Collect 100,000.  Pay half in taxes

Adopt a Rescue Animal

Get Divorced.  Pay 10,000

Remarry your “Soul Mate.”  Collect 1000 from each player

Taxes Due!  Pay 4x the amount of the depreciated value of your home

Car Accident!  Pay 40,000 to replace your car because the other driver wasn’t insured


I ran a few of these ideas past Frank, who grunted something about being pretty clever and then cracked another PBR and told me he was “keeping an eye on the bank, unlike those SOB’s on Wall Street.”  

Oh, one more thing.  There’s no physical game board, spinner, or game pieces--just a download from the iTunes store, and you’re alerted via SMS that it’s your turn to move.

I guess it’s my turn.  Happy Fourth of July.

Betty Crocker hates me

When I work on construction projects around the house, I always take off my wedding ring.  My hands usually swell up, and taking it off early beats watching my ring finger turn purple.  Sometimes I don’t put it back on right away, because it takes a day or so for my hands to get back to their normal shape.  And it was sunny out, so my tan line went away.  

That’s the reason Betty Crocker hates me.

It was one of those Sunday afternoons when time doesn’t matter.  My wife and I (did I mention I got married?) stopped at a little country store on the way back to her sister’s place, hoping to find a housewarming gift for her.  We’d just pulled into the gravel parking lot when she got a call from her mom, so I made the whole silent “I’ll-go-in-and-meet-you-in-a-second” gesture while she took the call.  

I’ve been going to Wilbur’s Country Store since I was a kid, but hadn’t been back in over a year.  The creaking wood floor, the penny candy, the housecat in the window next to the space heater with a wire pet fence around it hadn’t changed, but there was one notable difference--Wilbur had been replaced by a woman.  

She was about my age, with long dark hair and an accent that definitely was more “old Jersey” than “New Jersey.”  In the few minutes of small talk as I browsed the well-dusted shelves, we established that she was Wilbur’s daughter, had just moved here, and that she’d been willed the store after his passing.  I offered condolences, she said thank you for my kindness, and told me she was considering staying stateside once her father’s affairs were settled.

It was about this time that I settled on a Betty Crocker cookbook for my sister in law and was walking it to the register.  To be polite, I introduced myself, extending my right hand, while placing the cookbook with my well tanned, non-ring bearing, still slightly swollen left hand on the counter.  

“Hi, I’m Scott.”

“Betty,” she replied.

“Like Betty Crocker?”  I joked, glancing at the cookbook.

“Yes, like Betty Crocker,” she laughed.

“Well then, I should have you autograph this!”

In all fairness, I really was just being polite, so I was surprised to see her open the cookbook and begin to write down her phone number and the words “I hope you...” on the dust jacket.

Just then, the little silver bell above the screen door chimed and my beautiful wife walked in, placing her hand on my shoulder on a familiar gesture while Betty’s face clouded over.  Betty quickly completed the note, closed the book, rang up my purchase, and gave my wife a cold glance as she wished us a “good afternoon.”

It turned out to be a strange housewarming gift.  Imagine my sister-in-law’s face when she opened the cookbook, only to read the inscription:

“I hope you... burn down your kitchen!” --Betty Crocker
908-362-8833

Stand Your Ground, Check Your Facts

Only two people really know what transpired the night Trayvon Martin was shot and killed by George Zimmerman in Sanford, Florida, and only one of those is still alive.  There has been no proven account released about the events of that evening, though many on both sides would like to fill in the blanks with what they think they know due to each party’s background and culture.  

On one hand, a black kid wandered into the wrong neighborhood and got targeted by an overeager neighborhood watchman in yet another racially motivated killing.  On the other, a community protector was threatened and assaulted in an act of aggression, and took the appropriate measures to defend himself.  Race, discrimination, justice, fear, protection, defense, and aggression--all apparently play a significant role in the unofficial record of that evening.  For some, “a Mexican killed a black kid” is enough to compartmentalize the whole affair.  Others seek to find meaning behind the shooting, while others use the exchange to further their journalistic or political careers.

For all the allegations, we only truly know a young man is dead, and the shooter is seeking protection behind a controversial legal standing known as “Stand Your Ground."  But with all of the controversy surrounding race, inequality, and social justice surrounding the shooting, what is the real issue at hand?  

In 2005, Florida’s first female NRA president Marion Hammer pushed for and won a vote on the now widely publicized Stand Your Ground Law.  According to its preamble, the law is intended to  provide direction regarding “Home protection; use of deadly force; presumption of fear of death or great bodily harm.”  But how does it apply to issues of protection outside the home, or where perception of harm cannot be proven?  

According to preliminary reports released on 911 calls, Zimmerman pursued Martin through his neighborhood on suspicion of looking unfamiliar and sketchy.  That’s where the official record ends, and it’s not the public’s role to speculate about events after this point.  Because of the official photos circulated of Zimmerman and Martin, we’re left to see Zimmerman as a heavyset Mexican with a past criminal record, and Martin an innocent young kid with his whole life ahead of him.  But according to a March 31st article by US News, both photos are out of date, and neither image fairly represent either.  Based on public outcry and the limited factual record,we’re left with a skewed perspective on the case.  It’s simply not fair to either party to engage under the auspices of pretending we have the moral high ground of knowing all the facts.

Apart from the events of that evening, one issue which remains unclear is the interpretation of the SYG law.  If records of Zimmerman pursuing, and then initiating, a conflict with Martin are founded in truth, then this law fails to be an accurate statute behind which a plausible legal defense can be made.  As a practical point, picking a fight precludes the use of SYG as a realistic defense strategy.  It is meant to protect the weak, attacked, and infringed upon, and provide a means to both deter criminal aggression and allow a potential victim to defend himself when necessary, by whatever means necessary.  

In a society where criminal’s rights too often trump those of the victim, SYG allows a person to legally protect themselves when faced with the presumption of great bodily harm.  Whether the law is correctly or incorrectly applied to the Trayvon Martin shooting remains to be seen, but the principle is sound.  As a society so quick to assign blame and innocence in the court of public opinion, we only stand to cause greater damage when we arrogantly rush to say we know best without first being knowledgeable of all the facts.