House of Games

For most of my life I've been the little brother, the youngest, the awkward nervous kid that the crew both fiercely protected and royally fucked with. Amongst boys so much of the hazing is about preparation. Somewhere underneath it all there's this understanding that you won't always be togethery as a crew, but the code you all live by is something that each of you will carry as you move on. There are two games we always took about as seriously as the game of life itself: Spades and Monopoly.

When I came to New York, my skills in both were pretty formidable. It wasn't until I faced off with Estrada and the Dervish and Aina and Negarra in the last few years that I had ever really run into folks who could completely kick my ass. As long as I'm sober I'm generally good. But it's different in LA. When we all got together with our homie Kristin for our Kenji-trip tradition of a spades came, I just wasn't in gear. So when things exploded into a clowning match once I made a rather unintentional reneg, the game changed to Monopoly. But for some reason things, for the first time in a long time were different.

We play hard in Monopoly. People talk fast. Players instantly aim to cripple their opponents. Trying to keep up with the Joneses I usually end up bleeding cash and getting bad rolls. But last night was just the opposite. I held fast and cut deals with no one. And when we finally threw in the towel, I was in the lead and my two usual tormentors were almost bust. Things do change.

Today could be the day that alters my life significantly, the first shot in a very long war that I must declare in the name of something far bigger than myself but as small as that first glowing thought that gave birth to my dreams of being a writer and a filmmaker. This game is more than a board and pieces. In this game people can lose their lives. I wouldn't be here if I didn't know how to play though. I think I'm ready to rumble. Where the hell is Michael Buffer when you need him?