Playing 1957 Board Game Proved Challenging

Friends came over for a game night and we played the 1957 version of Go to the Head of the Class.

I discovered the game when cleaning out the basement where many of my husband’s childhood toys are buried. The game, still in its original packaging, was covered with dust, dirt and some mold.  While cleaning it up, I had to take two allergy pills to stop sneezing.

The game is straightforward. The playing board features images of 99 desks divided equally from kindergarten to 8th grade.  The teacher has the quiz book with 792 questions and answers. There are three quiz levels:  junior, intermediate and senior. .  A correct answer allows the pupil to move up 6 spaces or desks.    A wrong answer and the pupil goes back 2 desks.

The game includes tokens with the names and images of mommy, daddy, brother, sis and a few friends.  In keeping with the social milieu of 1957, all are white and all resemble the Cleavers from the Leave it to Beaver sitcom.  

I divided my ten guests into teams of two. I figured the game would go quickly and had Pictionary on stand-by.

I started the game with senior level questions. But questions like “What is another name for the basswood tree?” (Linden) and in the Fairy Tales category “Who ended up a weathervane on a steeple for refusing to help the stream, the fire and the wind? “ (The Half-Chick) proved too difficult .  After an hour of play, most teams were still stuck in kindergarten.

It was time to switch to easier questions but the Junior level proved equally challenging.  The categories of, Its Rhyming Time, Who’s Who in the Funny Papers and Silly Riddles (What tree is a well-liked girl? Peach ) all stumped the players.

Another hour into the game and no teams  had gotten past fourth grade.  So in accord with modern educational principles, I reduced the academic standards.  Instead of moving forward 6 for a winning answer, pupils advanced 10 spaces.  Penalties for wrong answers were eliminated.

More time passed and advancement on the board was still painfully slow.   Clearly, academic standards needed to be tweaked again.  This time winning answers gained 20 spaces   I skipped questions requiring knowledge of current events in 1957  like “Golden Hawk is my model name, so what make of car am I?”  The answer is Studebaker which closed automotive production in 1969.

Finally, the team represented by “mommy” won.  Winning a board game was nice for mommy because in 1957 she faced difficult challenges.  She couldn’t get a credit card unless her husband cosigned the application..  The birth control pill was only approved for “severe menstrual distress.”  Many colleges did not accept female students. About the only place mommy could go to the head of the class was the board game.

There was no interest in playing another round. I returned mommy, daddy, sis, brother and friends to the game box.  Forever trapped in the 1950’s, mommy will have to be satisfied with limited life options. Maybe daddy will buy her a Golden Hawk.

My Apple Watch won't shut up

My Apple Watch won’t shut up

Horror stories about older people falling and laying undiscovered for hours prompted me to get an Apple Watch.  The watch detects falls or changes in heart rate and asks, “Is everything OK?” If there is no answer or if the hapless watch owner requests help, the watch calls for emergency assistance.

My first challenge in wearing my new watch was how to get it out of the box. Apple products feature slick packaging with only visual cues to indicate how to extract and use the product. Many years ago, after I got my first iPad, I attended a help session at the Apple store in Reston. The instructor started his spiel about all the wonderful apps. An elderly gentleman raised his hand.  “You have a question, sir?” asked the young instructor. “Yes,” was the reply, “how do you get it out of the box?”

With the help of a YouTube video, I finally managed to unbox the watch and place it on my wrist. It turns out telling time is one of its least important features; Wearing an Apple Watch is like having your cell phone strapped to your wrist. Every app I have on my iPhone is replicated and new ones added. I now have 48 apps resting on my wrist.

My Apple Watch is always yammering at me. Using an endless supply of dings and pings, the watch tells me to get up because I have been immobile too long. It reminds me I have a new message. It tells me I am no longer within range of my cell phone. It reminds me of meeting times, and no matter where I go it reports how long the drive home will take. It even dings for birthday reminders. 

Due to my negligence in keeping this list up to date, I get lots of notices of birthdays for people who have long since died. 

The watch features a particularly annoying feature labelled “exercise rings.” The first time it buzzed me and told me to check my rings, I quickly checked my finger to make sure my wedding ring was still there. Turns out rings for the Apple Watch are activity related. There’s the red move ring, the green exercise ring and the blue stand ring, which hounds you to stand for a least one minute per hour.

I receive messages that tell me “Stand up! You can do this, Lyn!” or “Yesterday was all about your exercise ring, Lyn. Boom! Go for it today.”

Unfortunately, the Apple Watch does not have an app that says, “Shut up.”

The most useful app on the watch is an icon that makes my cell phone ring. This has proved invaluable as I forget where I have placed my phone at least five times a day. Now I just press the “make my cell phone ring” icon and my phone pings its location.

I complained to a friend about my talkative watch, and she suggested deleting annoying apps. This is an option for someone who, unlike me, easily negotiates technology. With my luck I would accidentally remove the “Call 911” app and keep the exercise rings. This is a risk I do not want to take. If I fall, I do not want the last words I hear to be “Lyn, keep moving to make progress toward your Stand Goal.”

Graveyards are strangely comforting

I thoroughly enjoyed the production of “Sister Act” at the Old Opera House in April. The costumes, the acting, the set design were all terrific.

It made me think of Edge Hill Cemetery.

I gave up jogging years ago, and now I get my steps by traversing the cemetery. The roads are usually free of traffic, the terrain is fairly level and, needless to say, it’s very quiet.

Walking through the cemetery gives me a strong sense of community. There are lots of names I recognize from my 40 years in Jefferson County. School board members, elected officials, civic leaders, community organizers, educators—so many gave of their time to strengthen our community. Reading the familiar names on the headstones is strangely comforting. 

I have reached that terrible age when many of the people I have enjoyed for decades are leaving us. Back in the day, congratulation cards for new babies and school graduations dominated my notecard supply. Now I buy stacks of sympathy cards.

A writer once commented, “Graveyards are full of indispensable people.” It seems the losses to our community of indispensable people are mounting. Jane Rissler, Ren Parziale, Grant Smith, Dale Manuel and James Tolbert are just a few of the luminaries we have lost. 

Fast forward to “Sister Act.” The program includes more than 50 names of people who contributed their time and talent to the production. I recognized three of them. Back in the 1980s when my husband Ron was president of the Old Opera House, we knew almost everyone participating in the planning and production of shows. Not anymore.  

I am reminded of John F. Kennedy’s famous statement, “The torch has been passed to a new generation.” In the case of Jefferson County, the torch has been passed to new arrivals. In 2023 alone a total of 796 building permits were issued in the county. This is the single largest number of residential building permits issued in 20 years.

The increase in new residents is affecting every aspect of life, including the political scene. Having a familiar county name is no longer enough to win votes. When I ran for county commission in 2008, people told me I would get votes solely based on my husband’s family name. People knew of the Widmyers and their community activities. With our county’s growing population, longtime family names are no longer so important.

At my advanced age, I am happy to pass the torch to a new generation of newcomers to our county. I just hope when it comes to getting involved in making our community better our new residents will be as indispensable as those who are now resting in peace.

Spirit of Jefferson, June 12,2024