Last night I was schooled in Monopoly by a five year old. Every time my niece grabbed the dice, she’d shake them like ice in a tiny martini, let them fly, and shout “Polopoly!” as they skidded across the board. I should have known it was game over when her first real estate venture was Pennsylvania Railroad and her second was Water Works. Those railroads and utilities are killers.
“Polopoly!” she’d effuse with arms raised when she passed GO, when she rolled doubles, and when she drew a Get Out of Jail Free card, which she had to have me read to her. “What does that mean, Get Out of Jail Free? Is it good?” she asked.
“It’s good, Wren.” I said, sighing as I handed the card back to her.
“Then … Polopoly!” she grinned.
Do you see that top hat game piece on the board? That’s me. I’m always the top hat (because when I go bankrupt, I like to do it in style, apparently). States Avenue is as far as I traveled before we called the game. It had been more than an hour, Wren owned half the board, and I had spent most of that time in jail. That’s right. I never even collected my $200. Not once. I owned one property: Baltic Avenue. The pillar of the low rent district. Rent was a whopping $4, to be exact. My sister-in-law landed there once, gave me a five dollar bill, and told me to keep the change.
Polopoly, indeed.
I intend to remember last night’s game whenever I am tempted to shirk my eight, monumental New Year’s resolutions in 2011. I mean, by now we all know that our hastily scrawled lists of goals have as much currency as Monopoly money anyway. Come March, it’s game over, and somehow we knew it from GO.
So if New Year’s resolutions typically end by the third month, why not design them to do so? That is the first part of Nika’s Fool-proof, Bi-fold Resolution Plan this year. Yes, forget traditional 12-month resolutions in favor of a series of three-month mini goals. Surely this mental bait-and-switch will take me all the way around the calendar with plenty of resolve to spare.
The second part of my stellar resolution plan is to have fun, no matter what. That’s what my niece, the pint-sized landlord, chose to do. Even when a malevolent Chance card ordered her to pony up fifty bucks to every player, she shouted “Polopoly!” with verve. Then she promptly focused on expansion, running us all out of house and home. She wasn’t going to let a momentary derailment rob her of fun or permanently hinder her progress.
I will attempt to hopscotch over those psychological “railroads and utilities” that would tempt me to abandon my resolutions in 2011. Still, I can predict with a reasonable degree of surety that I will be derailed at some point. I won’t let it rob me of fun or permanently hinder my progress, however. I’ll keep going, even focus on expansion. Because I have got to show some hustle and round the board. I’m turning GO corner on rims this year. I’m tired of being stuck on States Ave. I’ll do whatever it takes to move forward … having fun the whole way.
In fact, you might hear me say Polopoly now and then.
Very quietly. Under my breath.