Los Gatos Weekly-Times

Board games are preview of real life for kids

By Vern Hansen

I suffer from a seasonal affliction called Santa Claustrophobia. Its symptoms come on just at the thought of being jostled in the rush to buy Christmas presents.

So, to steal a march on the department store crowds, I did a sneak preview of what is being offered this season.

"I've a lot of people to buy for," I said to the shopping consultant. "What do you suggest?"

"Board games are 'in' this year."

"Is that so?" I headed for the toy department and asked a clerk to show me something in games.

She opened a box. "Here's one called Group Encounter."

I was interested. "How do you play it?"

She glanced at the directions. "Six or more persons get together in a breakfast alcove and take off their clothes."

She showed me a game called Greed. When Monopoly first came out, I thought trying to corral all the property from Boardwalk to Park Place was pretty savage. But that was tame compared to Greed.

"The accent is on man's acquisitive sense," the clerk said, "to the point where you buy it only for yourself. It's a form of solitaire."

"I can't play it with anyone?"

"No one except the owner of another Greed game. All you do is compare Dun and Bradstreet ratings. And your leveraged buyouts."

Another game called Bankruptcy resembled Greed. In a contest with your creditors, you run up enormous bills and cop out through the courts. When the game is over, you change your name, move to a new address and begin again. "You can have it for 40 percent off," the clerk told me, "if you pay cash."

I shook my head and went to the next store. "I'd like something not so rough," I said after I described what the first store showed me.

"Here's a board game called Take Over," the clerk offered. "You become a member of a consumer group that strives to rise above the others. But I wouldn't recommend it."

"You wouldn't?"

"No. Ralph Nader says it promises more than it delivers. But how about this one called Election?"

"What do you have here?" I said, pointing to a box marked Futility.

"That's an educational game."

"What's so instructive about it?"

"It's designed to adapt the player to today's world. No matter how you put it together, it's wrong. Or if you have a growing child in the family, how about this?" She held up a box called Metropolitan Management. "It can do a lot for a youngster's development. It comes complete with an urban core, a decaying inner city, and the flight to the suburbs."

"What does it teach a child?"

"Just about everything. He learns to deal with overstuffed bureaucracies, a diminishing tax base, welfare cheats, public employee strikes and political panic. By the time he figures out what to do, he'll be an adult."

That was quite enough for me. "Let me use your hot line to the North Pole. I want to complain to Santa."

When he came on, I said, "Look here, Santa, what's happened to adult games? I know many of us think our jobs are Dullsville, TV is turning us into dolts, and we don't know how to converse anymore. So we need some intellectual stimulation. But who needs Deploy, S&L Bail-out and Rip-Off?"

When I described all the board games the clerks had shown me, Santa laughed.

"Those aren't adult games."

"No?"

"No, those are for kids. They come on pretty strong today, you know. And the psychologists in my workshop are making the most of it."

"Well, I don't like it. I'm a simple fella."

"It's a bit heavy for me, too," Santa sighed.

"I want something light and pleasant," I said. "What can you recommend for just another ordinary, not-too-hard-to-please adult who still thinks games ought to be fun?"

"All I want," I said, "is something you play on a single level, without conflict or controversy. Like Chinese checkers."

"Very good," Santa responded. Then a long pause. "Which do you prefer, mainland China or Taiwan?"

Vern Hansen is a Los Gatos resident.