Not your Everyday "Games"

In our family of bibliophiles, we're surrounded by reading material all the time. Stacks of borrowed library books on bedside tables, shelves full of old and new favorites that we've purchased--you can pretty much walk into any room in our house and encounter an array of books waiting to be picked up and enjoyed. Now that Derek has reached a young-adult-ish reading level, and has gravitated toward the fantasy realm in terms of his preferred genre, we often find ourselves appreciating the same novels and passing them back and forth. So, for instance, Husband, Derek and I all got totally sucked into the Hunger Games trilogy, trading off whichever volume each one of us needed and discussing them along the way in our own little Family Book Club. We dissected crucial plot points, analyzed our favorite (and not so well-regarded) characters, and explored both the grim (fight-to-the-death competition, raw survival instinct, primitive animalistic behavior overriding the nobler trait of compassion...etc.) and the uplifting (perseverance of the human spirit, empathy for one's fellow man, cooperation and mutual support in the face of overwhelming odds, overcoming differences and accepting one another, fighting for a better future...and so forth. Yeah, our "meetings" tended to be not-so-very-light-and-fluffy. We're pretty hardcore...geeks.)

Anyway, we eagerly anticipated the movie adaptation, excited to commune with Katniss, Peeta, Gale, and the rest of Panem's citizens. Derek and I actually made it to the theater a few day after the film opened, and suffice it to say, we deemed it to be quite the thrill ride. Afterwards we had even more topics of conversation--airing our opinions on such matters as: the actors chosen for key roles (generally favorable, in some cases downright inspired), to the technological tricks used onscreen (super cool), to the costumes (wildly imaginative and entertaining), to the actual camera work (purposefully-jittery, and therefore nausea-inducing). I think it's safe to conclude that this little set of novels has become an instant family classic, earning prime shelf space next to some renowned Hobbits, beloved Narnians, and famous young Wizards.

Little did I suspect, however, just how much of an impression the beleaguered Tributes and the 74th Annual Hunger Games had left on my son. It seems that when he (and Riley) went over to a friend's house to play yesterday, the group of boys initiated their own backyard version of the contest. According to Derek, they first set up the Cornucopia--the central stockpile to which Tributes swarm at the beginning of the Games, in order to snatch essential supplies. In this case, choice items included: an arsenal of Nerf weapons, and a pantry-full of tasty snack foods. Derek and his 6th-grade buddy--let's call him "Jake"--designated themselves as the entrants from District 2 (one of the few privileged areas in Panem, which typically produces skilled warriors). Riley and his classmate--"Joey"--adopted District 11, a crumbling region lacking in food and other basic resources, which gives them little leverage in the Games...and few victors.

Derek reported that in the first dash to the Cornucopia, everyone immediately grabbed their preferred weapon (Riley: Nerf daggers; Derek: Nerf ax). Then they made off with as much foodstuff as they could handle...in the form of nourishing wilderness rations such as Chips Ahoy, brownies, Lay's potato chips, crackers, and garlic-flavored pretzels. Once outfitted, each team established their Base and took turns guarding it while also attempting to lure the enemy closer and engage them in hand-to-hand fighting. But was it a free-for-all battle situation? Oh, no. There were clearly defined Rules governing the behavior of each little soldier. For example, when "killed", you must return to your Base and count to 30, after which you could revive and rejoin the action. (Apparently, if "injured" your timeout depended on the severity of the fake wound, but I never really got that regulation fully explained to me.) If you and your partner were both taken out within the same 30-second period, the other team would be declared Champions.

Oh. My. Goodness. I honestly wavered between being overwhelmingly proud of my creative little bookworm-nerdlings...and utterly horrified at their adept merging of Literary Appreciation...with Mortal Combat tendencies. I suppose I should just count my blessings: both of my Tributes survived, they received a plethora of fresh air and sunshine and exercise, (Hey, sprinting away from your pretending-to-be-bloodthirsty brother counts as a workout for sure!) and they evidently noshed on some quality junk-food offerings to boot. To paraphrase Caesar Flickerman, it seems "The Odds [were] ever in their Favor!" (And sometimes I dearly miss good old Dr. Seuss...)