Risk is in the approach, and knowing when to stop.

We played RISK on my wife's classic original set
from the 1970's.

I didn't really want to play RISK, but when my son brought it up a few nights ago and said, "It's Family Game Night! Let's Play!"

And then my wife said "Great!" 

I felt a little trapped.   Trapped isn't the right word.  Pinned down?  Unable to escape? Having two few men on a battleground that I didn't want but couldn't avoid?  Yeah, that's about right.

So I capitulated, groaning loudly.  We started the game.

It's not that I don't like RISK. 

When I was a kid I loved it.  My best friend in second (or maybe third grade) Paul Squizzero had the game and on Saturdays, I used to go over to his house and he and I used to play rollicking games with his family on his kitchen table and his mom made us bologna and ketchup sandwiches, which I absolutely loved.

My mom was horrified, as bologna and ketchup were not what my mom wanted me to be eating, but there was nothing she could do about it.  I was nine, and I liked what I liked.  Mrs. Squizzero (Paul's mom) thought I was the politest kid on the planet.

But the thing about RISK that I don't particularly like is the element of luck.  You can have 20 guys in Mongolia and only one in Siam, and by the right rolls, that one guy in Siam could end up winning.   It's not the power of the Siamese training forces.  It's just plain luck. When I was younger I saw some kind of majesty in that, the romanticism of the one fighting for his ideals, but now, when I think of it, it just seems that it is one guy is forestalling the inevitable.  He won't be able to win, he should just give up. 

Is this the difference in outlook between youth and middle age?  

And the rolling, and the changing of armies, and the decision making, the game can be just interminable.  It just tries my patience.  (Boy, I sound like a cranky old man!)

But here we were, playing through it, and I was grinning and bearing it, like a good dad should.  (To be truthful, I was probably grimacing more than grinning.  I was dealt terrible countries, and my son, bless his little Siamese heart,  is an amazing roller.  He might get it from his dad!)

You can get this 60th-anniversary edition of RISK on Amazon.

That first night, it got to be about 9 pm, and we were about a quarter through the game.  I was in third place, far behind, and my wife was way ahead.  She's very good at strategy games, and she's a very lucky roller. (I'd like to think that she gets it from her husband!)

The board was set up on our dining room table, and over the next two days we ate around, over, and through the table, anywhere but where the game was set up.  Each time we played a few rounds, and things were moving.  I made an incursion into North America.  My son gained Australia.  My wife gained South America, and then turn after turn would lose one country only to gain it again.

After three days on and off of this, my son was in the lead, and I thought about giving up multiple times.

Day 3:  The Final Conquest. 

We played a quick round in the morning.  I conquered North America!  I set up strong borders.  I let my wife and son duke it out - she got greedy and tried to swallow Europe whole, but couldn't quite do it, and my son took it right back.   The cards kept on escalating.   We had to stop at my turn so that I could go to a telemedicine doctor's appointment, and my wife could get some work done.

Practicing social distancing in Australia
(photo courtesy of my wife stephanies )

After dinner, we sat down to play, one final time, and agreed we'd finish it off.   I had warmed up to the game. I was in it, to win it.  I fortified my borders.  I took over most of South America from my wife.   I managed to take my son's continents away while keeping two of my own.  My wife didn't have enough firepower to do anything. and flamed out on a spectacular set of rolls against my son. (I told you he was a lucky roller!)

Then it was my son's turn.  He turned in cards and got 62 armies.  He annihilated my wife's armies and grabbed her cards.  He tried to make an incursion into North America through Greenland and failed.  He tried to make an incursion into South America through Brazil and failed.  He decided not to try Alaska, and let me take my turn.  I turned in my cards for a total of 68 armies, and proceeded to romp through Asia, Africa, and Europe, and Australia, taking all of his continents away from him.

Rather than continuing to push my luck, I left strong troops in each of the continents and fortified my borders.  I thought he was going to win over the long haul, but he took a look at the board, realized that he was in for a much longer, sloggier mess than he had realized, and decided to give up!  I emerged Victorious!

THE MORAL OF THIS STORY

There are actually a few morals that I can think of.

Thank you, Princess Bride.

• Never get into a land war in Asia.   (Check)
• Spending time with my family is fun!
• It turns out that forestalling the inevitable will work when your opponent is young and impatient.
• You should not always listen to your inner voice. 
  
  I had a fun time playing RISK, even though I groaned when it  was proposed  (I am sure that EMERGING VICTORIOUS had something to do with that.) 
• Risk is as much about knowing when to stop as it is about taking actual risks.
• I'm a lucky roller, and I get it from my family.

Family Conversation Cards from Boon Supply

This was a sticker my wife got for supporting
The West Wing Weekly podcast.

I'm a big fan of games that have no clear cut winners.  Don't get me wrong,  I can talk trash with the best of them, and I enjoy winning games of all kinds (and sometimes)  I even enjoy the agony of defeat, if it's been a good game.  Mostly I enjoy victory and  drinking from the keg of glory and feasting on the finest muffins and bagels in all the land!  (That's an obscure West Wing reference, for those that are not hep.)  Yes, that's how I roll.


  Anyone who has played against me in Scrabble, Backgammon, cribbage, Uno, Fictionary, Boggle, or a host of other games, I can get pretty competitive, and not always in an attractive sort of way.

Despite my competitive streak, I must say that cooperative games, games that have no winner, and games that aren't really games at all, hold a special place in my heart.

I love games that are open ended, that don't really have a winner or a loser, and games that have a higher purpose than just deciding who was luckier or even more skillful with the hand they were given.   I was a big fan of SimCity when it was first released, and have been always searching for games that are not about winning or losing, but about playing.

Right now, I'm really fond of a new set of Family Conversation Cards that I received from Boon Supply.  Boon Supply is the passion project of Lily Kanter, who created the company as a way to help communities fundraise.  She's created a catalog of stylish and useful items, and uses those items to let people fundraise for their favorite organizations. 40% of every item sold gets donated back to a cause of some kind, and Boon has made it very easy to start up a fundraiser.   (I just started one for my school below, and you can see the details below on how to participate if you are interested.

One of those items are these Family Conversation Cards.  It's a set of 100 cards with interesting questions on them that are suitable for the whole family to answer.  Some of the questions are trivial in nature (What's your go-to karaoke song in the shower?) and some of them are pretty deep-- (What do you think the highest paying job should be?  Or If you could be microscopic for a day, what would you do?)  All of them are designed to get people talking, and then expand upon the answers.  (Why do I like to sing "Ain't Misbehavin'"  in the shower?  What's good about that song?")  so that they could be expanded upon, followed up, or vigorously defended if need be.

Who would you donate money to if you had a lemonade stand?
Right now, I'm choosing my son's alma mater
The Disney Magnet School.

I love these, partially because they don't rely on slick movie references, obscure knowledge of 80's music icons, or the lines of succession for British royalty.  As long as you truly answer the question and participate, it's a win.  Any amount of people can play, and there are no wrong answers or even right answers. There are only better answers, more complete answers, and answers that help engender conversation and discussion,   You can even ask the questions of the same people at different times, and there might be different answer.

Mostly, what I like about these cards is it gets our family talking and communicating, and joking and laughing.  And those are all good things!

I think they will become a staple in our family at home dinner ritual.  Or after school. Or maybe while our family eats the finest bagels and muffins in all the land.

PLEASE NOTE: I received this set of Conversation cards from Boon Supply, in hopes that I would write about them.  Although I'm not receiving any money in exchange for this post,  for the sake of transparency, I wanted to let you know that I did receive the cards for free.  Their free-ness did not influence my opinion of the cards.  I value my integrity, and so should you.

If you'd like to find out more, I urge you to check out the fundraiser I created for our School.

https://www.boonsupply.com/collections/609331-disney-magnet-school-fundraiser


You can order this product directly here:
https://www.boonsupply.com/products/17022-family-conversation-cards
When you check out, type "Disney" when searching for Fundraiser and select Disney Magnet School.
40% of any sales will be donated to our school, which will be turned into better educational opportunities for 1700 Chicago Public School kids.

Half Birthday, D & D, and The Fatal Texting Flaw

Yesterday was my son's half-birthday.  He's 11.5, and we have typically celebrated the half-birthday milestone with a little something-something.   Last night that was the plan, but something went awry.  Read on to find out what:

THE HALF BIRTHDAY BACKSTORY

One year I got him  a half-donut on his half-birthday. 
I tried to get him to take the inside the
hole half, but he refused to be gulled.

We used to trade half-birthday presents with one set of cousins, with the idea that you get so many presents at your birthday, wouldn't it be nice to spread them out a little.  That worked well when the kids were small, but now they are usually asking for cash for some electronic doohickey that they are saving up for or a game that they want right NOW, and so that tradition has gone the way of the rotary telephone-- a nice memory, but never to be used again.

One year I bought him half a donut (never you mind what happened to the other half... that's classified information) and another year we baked him half a cake.  So we have a precedent.

This year, my wife is out of town, and she had bought him two disneyish tshirts-- one that is Baby Yoda based and one that has Mickey in the middle of Star Wars. She wanted me to give them to him that day.  I thought-- okay, I'll do it when we get home from D & D.

The two birthday shirts that my wife picked out!

HOW D & D FIGURES IN:  AN ASIDE

Yes, last night was Monday night, and he plays D and D at our local fabulous game store Dice Dojo.

In case you don't know about Dice Dojo, check out this vimeo commercial I found online.

Dice Dojo Commercial from Danny O'Sullivan on Vimeo.


 They have D and D games on Monday nights, (Adventurers League)  and about 9 months ago, my wife and I took him to play for the first time.  It was a late-night (started at 7:30 and the game was either 2 or 4 hours depending)  But school was nearly over, and we thought we'll check it out.  He loved it, and I loved sharing it with him.  He was one of the only kids there (most of the players are in the 25-40 range and decidedly tattooed).  He was always the youngest person in the room, and I was approximately the oldest.  We made quite a team. He was very mature and  was acquitting himself well as a player (coming up with ideas on how to slay or trick Non-Player Characters, etc.) I was very proud of how he played.  I think that most of the other players were like "Wow.  If having a kid is like that, maybe it won't be so bad."  #theyhavenoidea

Soon my wife basically dropped out of going, so it was he and I going to play every week.  Then he started inviting his friends, and we'd all play together at the same table.  It was summer, so the other parents were okay with it. I  played with the kids and was kind of their D and D father figure-- and it was okay, but it wasn't quite the same.  When my son had a friend there, he was less mature and more apt to do kid-like things, like just going around murdering stuff and getting really giddy.  Which is fine, but it wasn't the quality father/son time that we had been having.

When school rolled around, lots of parents (including us) did not want D and D to go so late, so I prevailed on the good folks at Dice Dojo to create a family game.  They found a guy who loves to DM and wanted to do it, so he started.   I played for the first campaign, but when it was all kid energy at the table, the joy and fun of playing was not there for me.  And my son was chafing a little under my watchful eye.  So, with the permission of the DM, I dropped out (and now he and another parent are responsible for the chaos of 6-8 monster children getting silly and playing D & D.  More power to them!)

THE FATAL TEXTING FLAW

Here's where you can make fun of my ham-handed thumb
typing.  I can spell Lickety on a keyboard no problem.

At any rate, Monday Night D & D is a thing. And since that was his actual half-birthday, I had the great idea (half-baked idea) to invite the D and D friends to an ice cream joint after playing for an impromptu ice cream session.  I sent an email to the parents, asking them not to tell their kids, so they wouldn't know or tell Aaron, and if they were amenable, bring them to ice cream and I will buy.  Unfortunately one was getting sick, another had homework, and another didn't show up for the game.  But I didn't know that yet.

What we ended up not having.

I then texted my wife telling her that I was planning an impromptu ice cream celebration, and that AA didn't know.  Here's the flaw:  It turns out I texted it to a text message group that included my son.  So now he did know!  He said  "Dad, can't wait to go to Lixkety's for that secret ice cream afterward!"  That's what I get for disclosing my plans to my wife! 

The joke was on him, though, as none of the other kids could make it, so I brought him home,  face-timed with my wife to sing HALF THE HAPPY BIRTHDAY SONG, gave him HALF A BIRTHDAY CARD along with some ice cream, and sent him to bed.

The front of half of a birthday card.

The inside of half a birthday card.  (This was particularly a propo,  as his nickname is The Bear.)