Sometimes it is pointed out that there was a day, way back when, when getting a bucket of chicken involved someone getting stuck with chicken wings. Nobody ever wanted the wings because they were the lamest part of the chicken. Now, with massive strides in marketing, chicken wings are all some people will eat.
I was thinking of this yesterday when discussing the game Monopoly. I hate Monopoly. It’s a stupid, stupid, boring game. However, with massive strides in marketing, some people think it’s awesome. There’s Denver Monopoly! There’s Star Wars Monopoly! There’s Sponge Bob Monopoly! Well guess what? Monopoly still sucks no matter what pictures you put on the board. You zoom around the board hour after hour and you hope in your secret heart of hearts that there was a community chest card stating, “You drank a cyanide concoction. You are free to leave the game.” Or, even better, “You have died of dysentery” (a little nod there to Oregon Trail, a very FUN game that Monopoly should emulate).
It’s been many years since I was forced to play Monopoly (I so hate that game) and I think it’s because my coping strategy has been passed along: I only play Monopoly if I get to be the banker. And I’m a dishonest, true-blooded American banker. I steal Monopoly money and stash it under my side of the board throughout the endless hours. Then, at the very end, when it’s down to me and whoever, and just when it looks like I’m going bankrupt, I pull the stash from my “Swiss Bank Account,” scatter all the little motels like tornado, declare I win, and run out of the room. Stupid Monopoly.
An Erinku:
like Mr. Rogers
I swap shoes and
sing while
sweatering
No comments:
Post a Comment