The Game of Life

His family used to go to Colorado every year to see relatives. When he was in his early teens he met Jimmy, the kid who lived across the alley, behind his grandparents.

A couple of years younger, the kid across the alley worshiped the young man. The young man was smart, good looking, had an infectious laugh and enjoyed being alive. And those around him, including Jimmy, unconsciously fed off his zest for life. Jimmy's parents were first generation immigrants from Greece. Both parents spoke broken English and over the course of several summer visits also came to like the young man immensely.

After a couple of years they (actually it was the mother) suggested that the young man should meet their daughter, something that the young man was disinclined to do. (He was scared to death of girls!)

But then, in the normal course of events, he finally got a good look at her. And what a stunner! She was gorgeous. And isn't that what gets the engine running? So, tentatively, the young man got to know her, just a little. And he discovered that she was not only pretty, but she also had a great personality, although she could be just a bit arrogant. Talking with her he found that she had her life mapped out and was surely going places. Suddenly the grandparents place became a whole lot more palatable.

After another year or two the young lady's mother suggested that the young man should ask her daughter out (which he wanted to do anyway) and a year later, after thinking about it for about 360 days in the intervening time) he got up the gumption to do so. They were sitting in the family's living room and the young man had a sneaking suspicion that somewhere, other ears were listening.

Anyway, he asked her out.

Her reply stunned him. "I've been reading a book. It talks about a syndrome among men. It's called the 'Peter Pan' syndrome, and Randy, you've got it. No offense, but I'm going places with my life. You, on the other hand, think life is just a big game. You think your charm and good looks will be enough to get you places and it won't. You've got nothing to offer me, Randy. You're never going anywhere." She said it with gay, light laughter that struck the young man to the core of his being.

He walked out of her back door and across the alley in a haze. He had never had anyone attack him so blatantly on a psychological level and it was an entirely new experience. He walked around for over an hour, thinking about what she had said, and in the years to come it was something he never forgot.

She was right about most of it. She was going places. She became a surgeon and by the time she died she was worth over $4 million. Her husband was also a doctor and he accumulated nearly $6 million. They lived in a big house, impressed the neighbors, belonged to all the right clubs, had lots of stuff, and had 4 children who also did well and visited once a year. She got everything that she wanted. Good for her!

He, on the other hand, lived up to her Pete Pan assessment, approaching life as a game. His software gaming company, a name you would recognize, made him more than rich before he was 30. (One of his early, most profitable and popular games, a joint venture with Disney, was all about Peter Pan, the Lost Boys and pirates.) He also loved his not so glamorous wife fiercely, a trait he would have bestowed on any woman he had married. He and his wife, the most beautiful woman he'd ever met (he grew up and realized, as most of us do, that beauty comes from the inside) lived a full, happy life with kids and animals and grandkids everywhere. The family grew up close and none of the kids would have ever envisioned moving more than an hour or two away from mom and dad. They were always visiting the old homestead and rare was the day when at least one kid, grandkid, and eventually great grandkid didn't drop by. There was always something popping around the place.

Randy never lost his zest for life, never stopped laughing and never worried about "things." Life, after all, was just a game. And when he thought back to that day in the parlor, which he actually rarely did, he would have told you that the bright, beautiful, young Greek girl was definitely right about him and definitely not the girl for him. (A fact most people would have agreed with, given her proclivity to be "proper" and "focused," as opposed to his approach towards "real" and "fun.")

His employees loved him, his wife loved him, the kids and grandkids and all the animals loved him, and he was happier than at least 98% of the world's population.

When he died he was worth over $100 million, an estate that could have been much larger if he hadn't given away 4 times that amount over the years to family, friends, employees, community groups and any number of non-profits and other worthwhile causes. But as he looked at the faces of his family, gathered around him as he lay on his deathbed, he knew that it was the people in his life that had made him rich.

Over 3500 of those people showed up to pay their last respects.

You could say of Randy that he had missed out on the Greek girl. But Tinkerbell would have been proud.