Meme: Sunday Brunch - The Game's Afoot!

Thus sprake Erica:

Are you game?
"Computer games don't affect kids, I mean if Pac Man affected us as kids, we'd all be running around in darkened rooms, munching pills and listening to repetitive music." -Marcus Brigstocke

1) What is your favorite board game?
2) What type of games are your favorite? (ie, board, card, participatory, dice, word games)
3) How many games do you own, and if possible, list them.
4) Do you enjoy computer or video games? Which one is your favorite?
5) Describe a great childhood memory of an outside game.

Have a good weekend!
posted by Erica @ 1:25 PM

My answers:

1. Scrabble
2. I like all sorts of games that involve people. I don't care for shoot-em-up computer games and I have limited patience with RPGs.
3. A few: Monopoly, Clue, Scrabble, Maj Jong, cards, Mille Bourne.
4. Somewhat. I am addicted to Freecell, having accumulated over 41,000 wins in the time I have owned Windoze computers (I cheat).
5. It was a late June summer's eve at dusk. The grass was recently mowed and the air was perfumed with honeysuckle, lilacs and that watermelony smell after the grass has been mowed.

For some reason there was a bunch of kids from the neighborhood at our house. We were all playing hide and seek combined with tag or capture the flag -- after forty some odd years (some were very odd, heheh) it's hard to recall. I remember the squeals of the kids as they raced home and tagged the big old maple in the middle of the front yard. It was glorious fun, waiting until the "it" had her back turned, stealthily crawling to running-in range, then blasting forward with everything you had to tag the rough old maple's bark before she could realize what had happened.

You could barely see the maple from my hiding place high in the mulberry tree over the rabbit hutches because of the girth of the oak tree in front of the kitchen window. That oak was easily 28 feet around, six feet across, hollow in the middle and estimated to be 400 years old. As kids, we liked to pretend there were all sorts of arrow heads and spear points buried in it's pith from ancient battles between the English settlers and the Indians.

All I remember now is thinking to myself that I would always remember that scene as indicative of the best years of my life. Sad to say, it was a prophetic memory. That August, a tornado ripped the oak asunder, tossing one half of the bole into the giant maple, killing them both as I watched terrified from inside of the house. Two years later my mother died. Life was never the same.

But that night the air was alive with the squeals of children, the drone of circadias, the cacophonous symphony of crickets, the sleepy chirps of the daytime birds, the calls of the crows making one last foray into the field in search of tender corn shoots from the second planting. Truly, it was glorious.


Have a great week, folks. If the opportunity presents itself, play a game of tag for me.