Playtime

In grad school, we had a motto: ” Work hard, and play harder.” The graduate student body spent much time finding meaningful ways to make this motto a reality. It’s been some time since then, and I no longer imbibe the liquid goods that fueled those extravagances. But I do believe in play.
Creative play is an integral part of living a well-balanced life. I enjoy computer games, blogging, carving, model railroading, playing with my cats and dogs, playing guitar, and reading. Given some more reflection, I might find other activities I regularly indulge in.

I draw the line, however, at certain activities which I find distasteful. I don’t drink anymore, so drinking games are out. Regrettably, since my arthritis got bad, I no longer do martial arts.

I don’t play cards. The other week, I was talking with an old friend from my days working for the Department of the Interior. Boredom had driven him to play cards at the local Community Senior Center. He painted a less-than-picturesque scene of seniors getting over-heated over playing cribbage games.
I should clarify. I find blackjack intellectually engaging, and poker played well is an exercise in psychology. Bridge I just never had the patience for. While I don’t play those games anymore, I don’t find them repellant. I reserve my absolute dislike and hate for that abomination called cribbage.

What has cribbage ever done to you? You ask. It goes back to when I crewed on the 34-foot ketch Psyche. She was my first father-in-law’s pride and joy. During an always extended sailing season, no day was complete without sailing, fussing about, or otherwise occupying your time aboard. And what better way to end a perfect day aboard than a nice game of cribbage? I loved sailing, but to go from an exciting day of cruising in Penobscot Bay to being in a dimly lit cabin playing cribbage? It was an emotional slingshot from excitement to boredom.

My wife would do anything to make Daddy happy, even if it meant making Wes play cribbage. I was not a good player. I always made mistakes, which were always corrected in the most demeaning manner. If I had named an entity as responsible for the divorce, the Cap’ns cribbage board would have been mentioned. After the divorce, it was twenty or so years before I could force the word “cribbage” from between my clenched teeth.

Now back to the talk with my friend. I was wondering if I needed to call up a bunch of our peers to pull off an intervention. Whisk into the Senior Center, bundle my friend out, take him to a safe place, and confront him with the dangers of what he was indulging in. Perhaps introduce him to other games like parchessi, craps, or the Navy’s favorite “cheaters” Monopoly. Ultimately, I just cautioned him about his downward spiral but left him to make his way in life.

Play is essential, but you must also know your limits, stay within safe boundaries, learn to cut the cord on addictions and avoid toxic situations.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it!