We usually call it Heck of a Game or Hate Your Neighbor (which I think is actually a different card game?) but I still distinctly remember my grandpa telling the story of the old woman he and my grandma learned this card game from, which became a staple among my family many years ago.
"She was a very religious old woman," my grandpa always said. "I never heard her curse or use strong language in her life. She never did. Except when she was talking about this game, and she said it was called 'Oh, Hell!' " I remember seeing that title written down in my grandma's old-lady handwriting, back when we needed the rules written down, and again it struck me for being so incongruous.
My family hasn't used this title much since; like I say it's morphed into those other, watered-down ones -- my family are pretty conservative too, really, and rarely or never swear -- but I still think "Oh, Hell!" is the most indicative of what it's like to play it.
We haven't played it as much in the last few years as we used to. People got sick of it; it was a little too complicated for my grandpa once the dementia finally sunk its fangs in; we picked up a new game or two. So maybe that's another reason it particularly made me think of my grandpa, and miss him, tonight.
And if tonight I pounded the table harder than I meant to, shouted and teased people louder than I meant to, maybe it was in subconscious tribute to him, because I remember with such fondness how he used to do those things.
He loved his family fiercely and showed affection more readily than anyone else I'm related to, but none of that kept him from cursing us six ways to Sunday when we were playing cards. He was so much fun; I was always so glad he was my grandpa.
I miss him like hell.
"She was a very religious old woman," my grandpa always said. "I never heard her curse or use strong language in her life. She never did. Except when she was talking about this game, and she said it was called 'Oh, Hell!' " I remember seeing that title written down in my grandma's old-lady handwriting, back when we needed the rules written down, and again it struck me for being so incongruous.
My family hasn't used this title much since; like I say it's morphed into those other, watered-down ones -- my family are pretty conservative too, really, and rarely or never swear -- but I still think "Oh, Hell!" is the most indicative of what it's like to play it.
We haven't played it as much in the last few years as we used to. People got sick of it; it was a little too complicated for my grandpa once the dementia finally sunk its fangs in; we picked up a new game or two. So maybe that's another reason it particularly made me think of my grandpa, and miss him, tonight.
And if tonight I pounded the table harder than I meant to, shouted and teased people louder than I meant to, maybe it was in subconscious tribute to him, because I remember with such fondness how he used to do those things.
He loved his family fiercely and showed affection more readily than anyone else I'm related to, but none of that kept him from cursing us six ways to Sunday when we were playing cards. He was so much fun; I was always so glad he was my grandpa.
I miss him like hell.