The Game of Life –
An Alternate Strategy

By David Carvell

Let’s play the game of life. All you need is a token for you, the player, and some other assorted pieces. Life is really the purest game there is - the object is simply to enjoy the game.

The rules are simple: you need to make sure you don’t run out of game pieces – food, water, shelter. With those things taken care of you may use whatever pieces you can keep to pursue happiness.

As played in modern times, the game has a catch: Somebody else owns all the pieces. Fortunately there is a key to putting them within reach - money.
Get some money and you can exchange it for the things you need to stay in the game and maybe things to help you get some enjoyment for your efforts. If you are clever, you can even cheat in some areas although I tend to object not only on moral grounds but also because life, like any game, isn’t fun if you cheat.

So let’s begin. Although you are not explicitly required to have money, in practicality, you won’t last long without it, so you’d better get a job. Now you can rent a house and satisfy your need for shelter. Some of that money needs to go to food. Water comes with the house but not for free.

Oh yes, you’ll need electricity to keep your food cold, for light to see by, and to maintain a comfortable ambient temperature. Some electricity can be used to power your television so you don’t get bored. Of course, you’ll need to buy cable access.

Some electricity will be used to give you hot water on demand, which amounts to wasted heat most of the time. You’ll gladly pay for electricity and water, because you value cleanliness, and because you’ll want to be neat and clean for your job.
You’ll have noticed that, like most people, your money, along with your dreams, is disappearing fast.

What can you do? You could try to get a raise - come early, leave late, buy more professional clothes, work weekends, play golf with the boss. Maybe get a classier car.

You might just get that raise. Of course, you’ll have demonstrated a willingness to sacrifice that will now be expected of you. So much for your leisure time. And when you get it you just want to stare at the walls or, worse, television.
You loose sleep because you’ve got a thirty-year mortgage hanging over your head and all your other bills.

When I worked for a very well-known company some years ago, they made us submit to a brainwashing session, and I remember a speaker admonishing the busy executives to make sure they make time for at least one game of golf per year. If that advice applies to you, I admonish you to wake up - the janitor has a higher standard of living than you do. He gets to go home and enjoy his wife and kids. I’ll guarantee you, nobody who lives in the office is better off than I am. That nice house is an expensive hotel, and all hotels look alike when being put to best use.

You may rightfully ask if I have a better idea. As a matter of fact, I do. The trouble is that there are certain conventions in life that are commonly taken as rules, but aren’t.

I’ll give you an example. Years ago, I camped in a friend’s meadow for the summer while working in an office. I never mentioned it until, sadly, I moved into a house. My coworkers were amazed, especially when I said I’d like to do it again. I was assured that this was a bad idea. Why? Because you need to be presentable for work, that’s it. They seriously recommend that you work thirty years to pay for a place to facilitate your work to pay for the place.
Escaping the rat-race is a problem, to which the typical answer is “You can’t”.
Here’s the bad news: they’re right, you can’t. It cannot happen, because nothing can happen. I know this because if you name anything you’d like to do, somebody, somewhere will tell you that you can't.
So here is the good news - while it's technically true that you can't do anything, this only works if you believe it. Otherwise, I simply don't know how to enforce this rule.

Which brings us to – “You can”. You can escape the rat-race if you can recognize a false economy when you see one.
Getting up and going to work, for instance. It’s easy; you get out of bed, take a few steps to the shower, take your shower, don your neatly pressed clothes, dress, and go.

For me, it's a bit harder - I'm on an inflatable mattress that takes up the whole tent floor. I struggle to free myself from it (which feels like wrestling a rubber octopus), then get in the car and drive to the shower. I hang my shirt near the shower to steam out the wrinkles. Not only that - I had to prepare my bundle of socks, skivvies, and toiletries the night before. Sounds like a lot of bother, but I contend that you are inconvenienced more than I am. I have to work a few extra minutes each day, whereas the rat-race victim has to work for years to pay for a nice shower and a house to put it in.

Mostly, my escape from the rat-race is a matter of the proper attitude: desire, belief in self, love of the outdoors, and a passion for finding solutions.

I believe in work; I believe that it is an essential part of a balanced life. I believe in money, but I'm not under its spell. Money is an abstraction that enables us to do our best to exchange value for value and therefore is life-affirming. By the same token, there are so many other treasures that I refuse to be deprived of.

The game of life contains some immutable rules, but there is plenty of room for strategy. Life is a game that I can enjoy playing and winning on my terms, and still wish good fortune to the other players. May you win those things that are truly worth having.

Dave Carvell, from West Virginia, wanted to chuck it all and live off the land, but how to do that without money? Then it hit him: Work in a respectable office job 8-5, and live in a tent in the woods after hours. Can he really get away with it? Is it really that easy? Stay tuned! Keep up with the Fran and Dave Experiment.