Monopoly Deal, those hands, and analog what?

The minute I played Monopoly Deal with my daughter, Zoey, home from college, I knew that my husband would be obsessed. We have a long history of competition, and we even have a sort of brag/slam book to document our Scrabble journey. His winning streak is both long and brutal. Matty does not take pity on anyone. I've watched him beat a child at Candyland with glee, and I kinda love that.

So, we've been playing Monopoly Deal, and I love it too. It is a bit like Monopoly with the iconic Park Place and Boardwalk cards, but that is more for nostalgia. When my daughter taught us, she just referred to the colors. Nevertheless, it is a much faster version of Monopoly, but it also induces the same "flip the board" energy. I snapped this picture in a moment of simple joy. I had known that Matty would love this game, and I was right!

We've been together a really long time. Those hands have carried our babies, cooked a million meals, and, on days like today, snow blowed. I know several young folks who are getting ready to wed, and I am so hesitant to give any advice, but I can't stop myself either. With 27 years experience, I'm pretty sure I've gleaned something. I'll narrow it to three:

1) Never set an expectation that you don't want to keep up. If you aren't interested in cooking an entire fried chicken dinner each Sunday to be ready for half-time, don't start that way. (It took decades to untangle myself from that expectation, completely created by some Suzy-homemaker inclinations in my 20s).

2) It is never 50/50. So often, it is really 80/20. Some days you will have no effs left to give, and he'll take care of baths and bedtime stories. Other days it is reverse, and you'll watch reruns of Andre the Giant professional wrestling because that is all that seems to help. It isn't a fair situation, of course, but fair will never be. Balanced is probably a better hope.

3) It's not all good. By "it" I mean moments, days, weeks, and even sometimes years. No one has the perfect personality, and I'm not really sure that we as humans are supposed to live in houses together. Maybe little hovels in a little hovel neighborhood? Like a bunch of tiny houses? When we were younger, Matty and I used to joke about buying a townhouse where we'd take turns with the kids and the other person would have the peace and quiet for awhile. Don't get me wrong. It is more good than bad, but anyone who thinks that happily ever after comes from what exists is missing the point. The "happily ever after" actually comes from a decision. You get to decide.

These hands . . .

Back to the hands. I don't know what analogy or metaphor that I'm reaching for. I think maybe it's the opposite. The hands don't stand for anything. They are the thing.

And now the analog part. Before Christmas, I decided to take all social media off my phone because of the digital media unit that I just finished with my 8th graders. For whatever reason, some things really hit different.

A) No one knows what is or isn't real. We don't have the attention span (or frankly, need) to find out the truth. Most of what we doomscroll through is irrelevant and seems like a giant distraction. Did Angelina Jolie donate money? Did Taylor Swift get into a fight with a concession stand worker? I made both of these up, but Angelina probably did donate money, and I seriously doubt Taylor Swift sees concession stand workers. Would I ever really try to find out the truth? Nope.

B) There's nothing I can do. All of the horrors have seeped into my bones. This can't be good.

C) The age old need to be "seen, heard, and understood" is being completely manipulated. Artists and poets and writers and creative types have always needed an audience to inspire and sustain them. Social media is a sweet-talking salesman, tricking us into believing that likes and shares mean things. Do some people "go viral"? Sure. And some people win stuffed animals from claw machines too. It doesn't mean that those people are particularly special. Most are lucky. Some deserve it, some don't. The world is already too cruel and if I can feel lured by the appeal of all of this nonsense, then God help all of the kiddos.

D) Social media makes us see more of the same. Are you trying to tell me that just as I am trying to cut back on social media that my feed has become story after story of "2026 is the analog year" and "Why you must go analog." Are you freaking kidding me? I can't even think this thought without being mirrored by my feed? It's all disturbing in some conspiracy theory way that makes me want to go back to true "analog" of writing in a journal with a little lock, a flashlight, and the amazing Bic pen with five different inks, ready to be clicked into place.

Nevertheless, nothing crazy has happened from taking social media off my phone. I've read almost an entire book. I didn't know what the forecast was. I have had more random conversations with strangers. All good things. But why are we calling this stuff "analog"? I never called it "analog" when life was not dictated by phones. I'm going to avoid it, frankly.

That's it for now. I'm bored. It's New Years' Eve. I think I'm going to spend it with some Monopoly Deal.