Let’s give it a go!: Mice & Mystics

miceandmystics

Why? This is the latest acquisition in our cooperative board game kick. After playing Robinson Crusoe (recommended 10 and up) and realizing how long it took us to understand all the rules, we decided to go down in age (9 and up!) rather than to anything that might be even more complicated.

How’d it go? The idea is that you were once important people in a kingdom in which some treacherous things are afoot, and your only hope to save the kingdom was to transform yourselves into mice and engage various missions around the castle. Each game is a chapter from the story with a prologue and story moments as you advance through the game. The game itself involves teaming up to fight various enemies: cockroaches, rats, spiders, centipedes, a cat, a crow; sometimes these have boss powers depending on what’s going on in the story. The tokens for the game are miniatures of the different characters (see photo), and this is good for adding atmosphere.

Downside is there’s a lot of dice-rolling and this can get a little repetitive after awhile, so it’s not the kind of thing you are going to spend an entire day engrossed in, but it’s clever and fun and nicely paced.

Will you do it again? We’re through Chapter 7! Beckie has her two characters that she always plays [Nez, the tinkerer; Tilda, the healer], I always play one [Filch, the scamp] and rotate a couple others [Lily, the archer; Collin, the leader], and the remaining character we only play when required [Maginos, the ineffectual old mouse-magician]. The game has 11 chapters, so I bet we’ll finish it; like I said, it does get a bit repetitive, so I’d be less confident if there were 15. We’re already talking about whether we should check out this other cooperative game that involves zombies.

Vernacular Spectacular #20: “silent e” vs. “magic e”

We are talking about the end of hope here. And why hope isn’t pronounced “hoppy.”

To be clear, it’s super-cute when Beckie says “magic e” instead of “silent e.” But we are talking about a hypothetical linguistic merger here that will affect the whole of English-speaking humanity, and so we must be scientists.

“Silent e” is straightforward. Don’t say the e at the end of the word. “Magic e” sounds like a mysterious little enchantment has been bestowed upon the word. Maybe you are supposed to say the “e” extra loud, or in an astonished whisper, or while doing jazz hands. Who knows? Then again, with “silent e,” it seems like hope should just be pronounced “hop.” Magic e does work with the idea that the rest of the word is also transformed, so the short vowel becomes a long vowel.

If it is magic, though, it’s a pretty fickle magic. After all, love does not rhyme with cove, nor does give with five. But then again, what is magic without unpredictability?

Jeremy’s winner: Continue reading

Let’s give it a go!: Hair dyeing [Jeremy only]

[I tried a take a photo for this, but it’s surprisingly difficult to take a selfie of the side of your head that does not look creepy (or maybe it’s just me)]

Why? Because I’m going bald, and I’m going gray around the sides. One or the other I can handle, but the pair is just too much. I don’t even feel all the way grown-up yet, much less old. I can’t do anything about my receding hairline or my epic forehead, but I can do something about the gray.*

How’d it go? I started doing “color camo” my last few haircuts in Evanston, but this now was just a full-on dye-job. She left it on too long, and so it’s darker than my natural color. I wasn’t sure about the color at first, but I’m finding that I like it.

Will you do it again? Yes. Maybe I’ll try all-the-way goth black sometime.

* Since the early days of my receding hairline, I have been asked: “Why don’t you just shave your head? It looks great on so-and-so.” Alas, I do not have the head shape of Jean-Luc Picard. My forehead spans acres, which means there are no good answers for me upstairs. I’ve been losing hair since high school, so I’ve had a long time to make my peace with this.

Jeremy reads The Legend of Pradeep Mathew by Shehan Karunatilaka

Why did you read this book? We bought this book back in the US, ages ago. Cannot remember why, except that it was one of those books that we bought on quasi-impulse while wandering around Barnes & Noble. (A question we regularly speculate about is whether the Evanston Barnes & Noble will still be there when we get back to the US.)

The reason I picked it from various other unread books on the iPad is that it’s about cricket, which has been a recent micro-obsession of mine.

Has Beckie read it? Yes, but awhile ago, before we started doing 42 word reviews.

42-word review: The cricket got me through, and curiosity of reading novel about Sri Lanka. Has deliberately rambling structure–even though many of the ramblings are entertaining or cricket-informative, wore me down after awhile. So too long, but skimmable and satisfying ending.

Overall rating: 3 wickets (out of 5)

Let’s give it a go!: Robinson Crusoe

[Psst: Maybe when we play this again, we could put a photo here…]

Why? We wanted to play a cooperative boardgame, which led to extensive research on boardgamegeek.com and the construction of a List of Finalists, an examination of all the games at the local games store, and finally, a complicated elication procedure designed to get each of us to offer our true preference, as opposed to what we thought the other person wanted. This was the unanimous winner!

How did it go? The basic premise of the game is that four people are stranded on an island (an Explorer, a Cook, a Carpenter, and a Soldier), and then one follows one of a variety different scenarios that provide an objective and tweak the basic rules (Scenario #1 is just getting off the island). We’re playing an easier version where we also add a helpful dog to the four castaways, and so it hasn’t had the oh-my-God-this-is-completely-impossible element that has marked our first stabs at some cooperative board games. The game has an enormous number of cards, which on top of the varied objectives, gives this really diverse replays. We’ve had to go to Google to try to resolve some rules ambiguities (with cooperative games, it can be hard to distinguish a correct interpretation of rules from a collusively wishful one).

Ultimately, it was all a lot to keep track of at first, but getting the hang of play was not bad, and working together to win has been fun.

Would you do it again? We already have played it a few times now, and will again. I’m not sure if I’m brave enough to do the scenario with the cannibals, though.

let’s give it a go!: squabbles

[Note to blog proprietors: Here’s another post that would be enriched if it became with a jaunty photo of the boardgame in question.]

Why? We received it as a boardgame for Xmas from Beckie’s brother.

How’d it go It’s speed scrabble, if you’ve played that. Each player tries to build a crossword grid as fast as possible from Scrabble tiles, making everyone grab more tiles when they’ve finished, until the bag is done. The main difference is that sometimes there are these tiles that make you draw cards, which do things like force you to break up one of your plurals or give you bonuses for each Q. If you get ahead it’s a lot of just saying “grab… grab… grab…” since you just have to add one new tile to your grid.

Would you play it again? Sure, it was fine. The 200 tiles were a little long for a two-player game, so we’d maybe pour some out. But, we were just in the mall today and it looked like this game was retailing for $40. It’s not enough of an improvement over the speed game you can just play with Scrabble tiles for anyone who already owns Scrabble to purchase this for themselves.

Vernacular Spectacular #19: “cantaloupe” vs. “rockmelon”

Beckie had me buy one of these on New Years’ Eve. This is our first V.S. matchup since The Clarification. If this fruit was called the same thing everywhere: what name would I choose?

I grew up calling this a “muskmelon,” but that’s a American ruralism, like saying “pop” instead of “soda.” “Cantaloupe” is what anybody who isn’t a hick says, so it’s the official candidate.

I think as ___melon goes, rockmelon actually has a really nice ring to it, but my enjoyment of it is hindered by me thinking “But wait, ‘muskmelon’ had a nice ring to it, too, and that’s not even on the table.” Cantaloupe is a nicely peculiar word, which sounds like it should be an animal instead of a fruit.

Jeremy’s winner: muskmelon cantaloupe