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The Game

 

You know, things have changed in the last two or three or sixty years. When I was around sixteen (okay, okay, 65 years), a lot of boys played a game, and it worked a lot better if they were tall. We never even had a name for the game but the object was to buy a beer. That is, buy a beer and you won the game. Oh, yes, before I forget, in my day if you were 18 you could buy a beer.

Let’s flash ahead to today’s world. Younger ones still indulge in underage drinking. I guess it’s still called a game but there seems to be different rules about winning the game.

My Game and Today’s Game

Here is how I see the differences between my game and today’s game.

Today, the object of the game seems to be to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible. I can sum up my opinion in one word: Stupid. Think about it. They have to find somebody old enough to buy hooch for them so they can get drunk. That’s not even a game. Sort of like a man who claims to be a .350 hitter and never picked up a bat.

In the 1950s, the object was to see if you could buy a beer. For some brilliant reason, if you could sit at a bar and order a beer, you proved something. Don’t ask what because I have no idea.

There was this one place we learned about. It was in a rather seedy location in town. Anyway, it was a bar and a pool hall. There was gambling at the pool hall, which was against the law. Nobody associated with the joint would ever admit to gambling. Anyway, you had to be 18 to get in the pool hall. And that was the trick we learned. It was easier to get in the pool hall than in the bar. So, if you were in the pool hall, you had to be 18. If you were 18, you could buy a beer. I won the game.

There were, of course, other places where we tried to buy a beer. You know, where it was a bit trickier to by a beer. That made it a better game. Sometimes I won. Sometimes I lost.

One last thing. Two or three beers was a big night.


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