It's Magic
February 14, 2013
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A Game of Cards...


            If you’ve had elementary age kids or grandkids in the last fifteen years, chances are you have crossed paths with the Pokemon media empire.  Until recently, those video games, toys, and trading cards were under our early radar.  Then, out of the blue, our first grade son shows up with a single card with a crudely animated monster on the face.  It’s mythical abilities included burping poison gas that put it’s enemies to sleep.  Naturally, I was interested.


            Over the next week, a few more trading cards began to show up at the house.  Apparently, there’s an elementary school black market that trades in candy, pencils, erasers, fruit snacks, and Pokemon cards.  I can relate, as my brother and I spent many a rainy day making line-ups of baseball cards and trying to outwit the other from the best player cards we had acquired.  The trading became so frantic that my mom wised up and bought a box of cards to reward our occasional good behavior.


            Some things never change.


            So, it was with great pleasure, that I said, “Yes,” when invited to “play” Pokemon with my two kids this rainy afternoon.  We sat on the floor, mixed up the deck, and drew our silly little monster cards.  Then we started to “attack.”


            I must interject here that the instructions on how to actually play the card game have yet to be acquired in our household.  Even if they had, I doubt that they were written on a first grade level.  The face of each card does have a list of powers and numbers and attributes and symbols.  I’m pretty sure I could figure out how to play if my monster cards ever lasted more than a single attack.


            There’s the kicker.  No matter what cards I held, nor their abilities or my cunning, I seemed to be losing every attack.  When I suggested that we find the rules to the game, my little girl told me, “Dad, you are a grown-up.  You can’t understand our rules.”


            How true.


            So we played several hands and I learned that I am a very poor Pokemon player.  Finally, toward the end of our game, I drew a card that pictured a menacing armored polar bear creature with all sorts of high numbered abilities and powers.  Surely this would be my chance.  Parker saw my card and said that he would be the judge, rather than attack.  My sweet baby girl flipped over a card with the picture of a fluffy bunny.


            “It looks like Dad finally won a battle,” I said.


            “No, you didn’t.” said Parker, the judge.


            “How in the world could my polar bear lose in a fight to her fluffy bunny,” I asked, incredulously.

            “Easy,” said my sweetie,” it’s a magic fluffy bunny.”


            And that is why it’s good to be a’s magic.


            Until next week, keep smiling.


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