“Who wants to play Monopoly?”
Every Thanksgiving those were the words we dreaded hearing from Uncle Ned. It didn’t matter to him whether the rest of us even wanted to play Monopoly or that we were semi-comatose from turkey overload. Uncle Ned wanted to play Monopoly, so that’s what we were going to do. Our sense of impending doom would grow as we watched him setting out the board and arranging the tokens, the Chance and Community Chest cards, the money. Fake money, of course. Yet Uncle Ned handled Monopoly money with real reverence as if it was actual cash, in other words, with the same exaggerated care and affection usually reserved for one’s firstborn child. There never was any question who would be Banker. Uncle Ned always nominated himself for the position as if doing us all a great favor. And then it was game on.
We each had a strategy for surviving the nerve-wracking tedium that was Monopoly. Aunt Louise had to be the Scottie dog. That was all she cared about, being the Scottie dog. No matter how badly the game was going for her, she took satisfaction from moving that little dog around the board. Cousin Jules, an interior designer, made his real estate investments based on which colors went well together. Cousin Jenna sulked. Her strategy was a simple one that involved spending spend most of the game in jail. I would start out with some elaborate plan that would inevitably backfire due either to an inexplicable run of bad luck or, more often, to the unscrupulous machinations of Uncle Ned.
Uncle Ned really loved his deal-making. We went into the game knowing he was going to manipulate us, yet his unrelenting hunger for board domination somehow rendered us powerless to resist. He bullied Aunt Louise into surrendering prime real estate for some crappy utilities. He had Cousin Jules in despair over an artificially induced housing shortage. He coaxed Cousin Jenna out of jail with promises of a glorious hotel in her future. He even convinced me that railroads were making a comeback. Every time, Uncle Ned scampered away with the profits while the rest of us went just a little more broke.
Then there was the way Uncle Ned took such maniacal glee in upping the rent whenever he got the chance. “How can you do that to your own children?” Aunt Louise would demand as Cousin Jules fled the game after two grim hours, bankrupt and in tears. To which Uncle Jules had the smug reply, “You’re next, sweetheart.”
I used to look at Uncle Ned, so triumphant while the rest of us were miserable, and wonder what kind of crappy person would take satisfaction from depriving everyone else of their livelihoods just so he could line his own pockets. While the game involves a fair element of luck, even more important is the willingness to destroy everyone you know. Because in Monopoly, there’s just a single outcome—one guy gets everything and everyone else is either bankrupt or in jail.
This year, what am I thankful for? I’m thankful we’ve finally realized that Monopoly is not the only game there is. Aunt Louise wants to try Who Am I, which she must be wondering after twenty years married to Uncle Ned. Cousin Jules is excited about Charades and his flair for drama will get us all going. Taboo is Cousin Jenna’s favorite, especially when drinking is involved. I love Pictionary, even though my drawing ability is pretty much limited to stick figures. The point is, this year we’re telling Uncle Ned that we’re not playing his game anymore. We’ve got better things to do.