Fans of the Monopoly iron wept in their beers tonight after Hasbro announced that game piece was voted off the board. There were no reports of protests or rioting, but my choreographer sister expressed fans' indignation in a text message:
This is an outrage. The iron slid across the board with grace.
So well said. It's unlikely my epitaph will be so uplifting. It will probably be more like:
She languished half-charred in the greasy hell at the bottom of the stove burner drip pan.
My little students are unlikely to be able to identify an iron, steam or flat. They don't even know the word "stove".
The Monopoly iron slid along the board, as did the cannon. The other pieces had to be tapped along to count out one's roll of the dice. I flopped down on the floor and peered under the bed, but my Sixties era Monopoly game was not there. Seems like after Norton the rabbit hopped under the bed to nibble the box and eat the $500 bills I moved the game somewhere "safer". But where? Probably under the stairs and beneath the boxed up fake Christmas tree. I blog for truth, freedom, and vintage game board pieces, but I'm not moving the sofa to haul out the Christmas tree to find Monopoly.
Clue was under the bed instead. Will we be voting to change the deadly weapons next? Or will we send Colonel Mustard into exile?
On a different tack, my tie dye experiment results were underwhelming.
© 2013 Nancy L. Ruder
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