Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning (1)

"Oh, decisions, decisions!"

Starting a blog entry is not easy. I’ll spend up to an hour staring at the blank screen, playing a mental game of Scrabble with tiles that belong in a Clue board, struggling to find the letters, let alone the words, to string together my thoughts coherently. I obviously have too much time on my hands, and a few too many board games too. How many exactly? Roughly around twenty-two, and I know that figure because I recently made an excursion to the shabby dark room where all the boxes are stored, and counted them all. Some were pristine and hardly touched (those were the ones with instructions too complex to maintain the attention of an agitated 6 year old boy), while others were so worn you could have sworn they dated back to when cavemen rode dinosaurs! Wait a minute…

          Seeing all those old dice, imaginary money, colorful playing boards and minuscule figurines brought back a feeling of nostalgia to the time of my childhood, to which everyone can hopefully relate. Seeing as I had nothing better to do than finish my mountain of English assignments, I decided to play a game of Monopoly Disney Edition against myself. For myself, I picked the statue of Peter Pan as my ambassador, and my opponent contended himself with Pinocchio (that way I knew he wouldn't be able to cheat without giving himself away).

"All children, except one, grow up."
      -J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

I started the game by rolling a 4. Incidentally, that’s how old I was when my parents bought the game. I remember vaguely coming home after having attempted (I use this word lightly) to ride my bike for the first time without training wheels. The result was a badly scratched boy in tears, halfway through a temper tantrum, enraged and stumped by failure. After all, the lack of two extra wheels couldn't make THAT much of a difference?

Pulling myself back to the present, I made Peter advance to his designated tile, landing squarely on “Scrooge McDuck’s tax – Pay 10% or 200$”. Two hundred dollars of my hard earned money?! Then I recalled, of course, that 200$ here was very little. Two dollars in the real world used to be a vast sum in my youthful eyes. You could buy two things at the dollar store (13% tax means very little to children)! The first time my dad gave me money of my own, he told me to save it and let it build up for something that I really desired. So naturally I spent it on the first shop item I spotted. The next day, I saw a homeless man on the streets and realized how much value 2$ had to him, and how I had spent mine so frivolously.

Hold on tight.

My opponent rolled and supposedly got a 13, except we were playing with two 6-sided die, so I called him out on the fib. My sister had a knack for knowing when I wasn't

being squeaky clean about something, and I often paid a heavy price when my parents caught wind of my dishonesty. It resulted in their lack of trust, something which I had come to rely upon and which had meant a good deal to me. Mutual confidence binds people closer together and there’s a certain comfort in knowing you can depend on others and that you yourself can be relied upon.

His Pinocchio piece moves to a “Magic Moments” square and he picks up a card that reads “You tell a lie to the Blue Fairy – Pay 20$ and go to jail”; justice. It’s my turn again, and this time Mr. Pan flies to a “Show Time” tile, and I draw a card. Something in my memory shifts, and in my mind’s eye I recall drawing this very card as a child, though admittedly I was unable to understand it. This time, the meaning is clear: “If you are playing as Peter Pan, Tinker Bell sprinkles you with her magic, unlocks the child within and sets you free – Return to Go and recollect your memories”.

Fairy dust only helps those that believe.

I realized then and there, that despite the hairiness of my body, the deepness of my voice, my self-instilled delusions of adulthood, and generally high testosterone levels, I’m nothing but a slightly older Peter Pan who’s just remembered how to fly again.

I challenge you to steal a few minutes of your oh-so-busy-day to take a glance at the games, the toys or the artifacts of your time as a kid, and relive the memories associated to each of them. Who knows, you might just manage to find Dumbo’s magic feather and take to the air.

References:

¹ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan