Rolling the Dice

I did something I haven't done in years yesterday. No, I didn't change my sheets, I played Monopoly. Just to clarify, I change my sheets regularly -regularly, seasonally, same difference. I don't know how recently any of you guys have played Monopoly, but let me assure you it's still infuriating to lose. Things began so promisingly. I purchased more desirable properties and had more cash than either of my roommates. However, my advantageous position led them to conspire against me. I couldn't get a reasonable trade offer to save my life. Then lady luck abandoned me. My roommate Tim invested everything he owned into his lone Monopoly, the reds: Indiana, Kentucky and Illinois Avenues. Lurking ominously just beyond the $1000 beacon of Free Parking, over the course of three trips to that stretch of the board, I landed on his built up properties thrice. How could I be so forgetful? The first time I stayed in the hotel at Indiana Avenue they took almost all my money, yet time and time again the red lights, familiar surroundings and vacancy signs lured this weary traveler back there. They took everything. All my properties, every cent I ever earned and eventually even my trusty iron. Being the first one out is the absolute worst. I looked at my two roommates sitting with their extensive properties and wads of cash and did the only thing I could in that situation: belittled them for playing a child's board game. I tried to convince myself that I was happy to be done with such nonsense, but it really ate me up inside. I should have blown on the dice before rolling. Maybe that would have kept me away from those ruthless criminals at Hotel Indiana. Why didn't I build on my property sooner? Where did things go wrong? Actually, Tim's luck continued and within twenty minutes of my exit, Tim bankrupted Alex. Tim works in real estate development and claims that he's a great monopoly player. It sucks that he backed up his taunts. Now we might have to play again to try to prove he's just lucky. I don't know if I'd be able to tolerate the pain of seeing my once profitable properties mortgaged again. I can't handle the shame of tiptoeing around the board praying to land in the safe haven of jail. That's no way to live.

Perhaps I should go buy a Sorry board and rebuild my confidence that way. Talk about a skill game that I dominate. I think that the geniuses who devised Sorry's consistently come from behind, radically shifting lead changes and almost always thrilling finish game play probably could have cured a disease or cracked some important codes if they hadn't been so leisure-oriented. Not that I'm complaining.

I'm going to see a band called the American Princes play tonight. Their lead guitarist/keyboardist/vocalist is a guy named Collins. Collins and I went on a Deer Hill Summer Expedition trip the summer after our sophomore year of high school (think less hardcore Outward Bound). Then junior year of high school he came up from Little Rock, AK and visited for a weekend. I haven't seen him since. We've talked less than five times since then and hadn't spoken in years until we were reunited through friendster. Anyway here are some things I hope not to say when we reunite tonight:

So what have you been doing these last 8 years?

Are those new pants?

You smell the exact same way as I remember.

Good thing that Y2K scare turned out just to be a scare, right?

Too bad about Gene Siskel, huh?

What do you make of all this super minty gum in all its weird pack shapes these days?

How bout Harry Potter? Didn't see that fella coming did we?

They say your taste buds change every year, are there any foods that you like now that you didn't like back in '97?

I'll let you guys know how the reunion goes. I hope this isn't just another manic Monday for all of you. Keep those eternal flames burning and if you want to get crazy, go ahead and walk like an Egyptian.