America the Poor: A Wanderers Tale, Vol Two

Chapter 14:Boring Board games and therapy for simpletons

Many years later I learned the normally accepted rules for playing Uno and Monopoly. Until then, I had no friends besides Joseph, and neither of us were the type of boys to play board games willingly(although card games we both knew very well).

In the asylum, the rules for uno were a bit different, and far crazier(obviously, we were legally loonies after all). Most rules were the same, but there were some radical differences that could change the nature of the entire game. We didn't do anything small, drugged up or not. When boys in an insane asylum played games, we took things to their very extremes, as was proper for us.

In Uno, there were cards that could change direction,change colors, and many other things. We had a few changes of our own, we abolished ALL limits. So draw 2's could progress endlessly, as well as all other cards. So if a player placed a draw 2, the next player could place another draw 2, ad infinitum.

I once ended up drawing 16 cards, as an example, and draw 4's could be placed on any draw card, and they added up. Once I saw an unfortunate boy have to draw 48 cards! Draw 4's could be placed on draw 2's, they all counted, and accumulated, that was our rules in the loony bin, we loved the extremes, and as I played, I learned to love these things as well.

After all, we had nothing but time to waste, and had to pass the days somehow. As legally insane boys, we embraced the irrational as a way of life. It was our lot in life, and it became our very home. We took comfort in our lunacy, and our defiance, at least some of us.

We played Uno, Monopoly, Sorry, Risk, and Trouble, plus a few others with variations of our own rules, to pass the time, and eventually I became an expert in insane rules. Over the next week the thorazine took full effect of me. After a few days, I felt a slowness take hold of my thoughts. I was always mentally quick, and quicker then almost any boys I've ever known, save Joseph. He never possessed my depths. But he was amazingly fast, and my equivalent in his own way,he was the only one I'd ever met in my long life whom I'd considered my equal, but with very different gifts.

I'd never considered board games much before this, although my Aunt Sandy had an original "Blizzard of 77" board game in her collection, which she showed me once, but it remained sealed for all time. The Blizzard in Buffalo, the worst and deadliest in recorded history was somehow immortalized in a board game. What a HUMAN thing to do. We as a species seem to be the best and worst of intelligent life, but intelligence is a total overestimation somehow. The worst in us seems to be prevalent in society, shallow, superficial, and dense mentally, just look at popular culture for evidence.

I learned the rules there, and played various games, and a few days later, after my brain started gathering a real fog, my therapy one day began.

I was introduced to a new daytime/early evening staff member, and as chance would somehow have it, his name was also John. Strange thing, but normal for me I suppose. He seemed fairly ok, he was in his 50s maybe, with a grey beard and full facial hair, also grey, and he wanted to discuss my past.

He seemed fairly aware to me, and he also seemed to want to know things. This was obviously his job, he was paid to do these things, not out of the kindness of his heart, I knew this, I had no illusions.

Even though fully compensated, I wonder was it his only motivation? I lose respect with others whenever money is involved. Call it my personal weakness, but I give MORE respect for those who choose to do things regardless of money, or lack of.

Maybe it's my personal failing as a modern human being, but I respect self-sacrifice, that is a very noble act to me, being paid to do something, not so much. It seems the opposite, they sacrifice nothing, they do things for gain, not goodness.

Many humans do their jobs, and do them very well, but only for pay. So for me, and my personal morality, it doesn't really count. What does that make me in the scheme of things I wonder?

At the end of my first week, I was pulled aside, and John met me in a side conference room, and he was made my official therapist during my time there, or so he claimed.

We started our lengthy talks, although at first It was mainly one-sided.. He seemed to somewhat care, and he had kind eyes, that was a rare thing in the staff. He didn't just ask for my story, but he actually wanted to know my point of view, the first time I had ever been asked to show this to anyone, at least officially, and he started recording our talks that very first day. The tapes started rolling then, and I was never given a single choice. Anything we said, we recorded for future reference.

At first, we discussed the facility, the rules that no staff had made me aware of, and the level system, although I had that figured out already, we went over it anyway, for the record.