Thursday, January 20, 2011

Oh, the games we play

As Marc and I watch my dad and my stepmother fight to stay together — either in their home or in an assisted living center somewhere — we can't help but make a wish list for our own future.
First off, we'd prefer to be healthy enough to stay in our own home and take care of ourselves up until the day we drop dead but then that's what all old people want and seldom get.
We'd prefer to have enough money that we could alternate between staying in a little house on the beach and a snug cabin in the mountains, but again, the likelihood of that scenario coming to pass is slim.
So if our options are few and Social Security is paying the bills, we'd settle for the simple pleasures in life.
We want to stay together someplace where the yardwork is done for us, the neighbors are friendly and we have a working television and a place to plug in our Nintendo 64.
That's more important than landscaping and access and ambience.
We figure we can survive older age if we can still play Dr. Mario or Tetris on a daily basis.
It's our stress release mechanism, this little ancient game machine that we've had for something like 40 years already.
There's nothing like making little golden squares or lining up colored pills in matching rows to pass the time. It can be so rewarding.
It's good for the brain and good for the relationship. (I say that in jest because some of our biggest disagreements have come over Dr. Mario. Marc likes to dump on my game and make me die while I like to play along without any outside interference. Despite what he'll tell you, I seldom dump on his game. I just play to score.)
We're hooked beyond reason. We'll play these stupid games until our fingers ache and our eyes glaze over.
We recognize it's a trivial pursuit but nevertheless, it's something we do almost every day at any given opportunity to kill a few odd minutes.
And beware anybody who tries to deny us.

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