The Name of the Game

Drifting in and out of conscienceness during a televised Football game (Dolphins 24/ Jets 17), my one ear up 'focused' on a commercial for the ALL NEW! BAZILLION! DOLLAR! PASSWORD!!

In a lifetime of shitty time killing party-games, I have only had one Password partner who I meshed with to the point of absolutely kicking ass. Did we cheat? Maybe. Semantics, Dear Ones.

This partner was my daughter's "Godfather" (yes, I was an Atheist then, too, just not "out"). He was a year behind me in high school, and we shared years of the same references. Real people, Pop Culture, all the cliches that controlled the junior high 'scene'. Is that cheating? Prolly.

I never shared a 3rd period coffee and cigarette with Betty White, so she wouldn't know the bridge behind creek even existed, let alone catch a one word reference to it. We never went to the Mini Cinema together for her to know that Terry's dog was named Bandit or the free breakfast after an all night Marx Brothers marathon was donuts.The sticky stuff on the Mini floor? I can't imagine "smegma" being a password word...

And that, my friends, is the secret to kicking ass at Password.

Name EVERYTHING.

I am hoping my partner (My Victor) now gets the gist of this. Without me actually telling him ('cause THAT would be cheating). We do have a bit of this going on already, which secretly delights me. Perhaps not as fine tuned yet as the name of the high school car (Ritz Barclay), but we're getting there.

Today he planted our Giftmas Tree- our first together -in the yard. "Robert". All future Plants will likely be named Robert, but this one is extra special: Robert I.

The new Coffee Pot is named Al Roker. Mr. Roker, to be exact. The sink is a "Gucci", our poetry is "Shit filed", and we call Brian-next-door Patrick.

Please, please, don't tell Regis~ Maybe we'll cut you in...