Memories of playing canasta

I was waiting in line at the grocery store, and I spotted a familiar package of blue and red playing cards. For the past few years, I’ve picked up decks of cards wherever I found them because my eldest son is pretty good at card tricks.

However, I couldn’t remember the last time I actually sat down and played a card game. Playing cards as a leisure activity is in danger of suffering the same fate as playing board games, I’m afraid.

When my siblings and I were young, we’d spend hours playing Monopoly. Fights started before the first roll of the dice because we all wanted to be the racing car or the statue.

Then we’d argue over who was going to be the banker because we all had a tendency to embezzle money. We never had a clear-cut winner – we stopped playing whenever we ran out of plastic houses or the bank ran out of green $20 bills.

Another board favorite was “Clue,” but with seven rowdy children, it was tough to keep track of all the little silver murder weapons and clue cards. As a result, it was always Colonel Mustard in the dining room with the rope.

            But with playing cards, things were different because there were so many games to play with one deck of cards.

            We started off with the simple “Go Fish” and moved up to “Spoon,” both favorites because we only needed four matching cards for every person to play the game.

            “War” was another favorite because the game allowed us to fight without throwing a punch.

            My grandmother finally grew tired of the shenanigans and taught us grown-up card games, from the right way to shuffle a deck of cards to the complicated and convoluted game of canasta.

            At first, we were quite confused because there’s a long list of rules to the game of canasta, but she kept playing with us until we knew how to play like pros.

From there, we went on to learn how to play “Hearts” and a variety of rummy games, and family get togethers always involved decks of cards.

The adults played “Bouree,” an old-time Cajun game where everybody throws a nickel in the middle of the table for the kitty.

When the adults ran out of nickels, they’d play for matchsticks. No matter who won, there was always laughter and good-natured ribbing around the kitchen table.

Even when the cards were bent, we still had a use for them. Our uncles taught us how to carefully place cards together so we could build five- and six-story houses out of cards and, when we were finished, pretend we were Godzilla and destroy the village.

They also taught us how to make our own bike sound effects. They showed us how to pin the cards to the bike rims using our grandmother’s spring-loaded clothes pins.

When the cards flapped against the spokes, we sounded like motorcycles gangs. The faster we rode, the louder the “flap, flap, flap” noise.

Then toy manufacturers came out with bikes with built-in sound effects and we no longer needed the cards.

Board games were forgotten – it’s tough for a quiet game of checkers or chess to compete with the bells, whistles and lights on an electronic game.

It’s even tougher for complicated card games like gin rummy or canasta to compete with online poker or an electronic video game with music, lights, bells and whistles.

Then again, a kitchen table surround by loud Cajuns of all ages makes for some pretty colorful sound effects.

As I placed my groceries on the conveyor belt, I impulsively reached over and grabbed that box of playing cards.

Perhaps it’s time to teach my grandchildren how to play “Go Fish” and, when they're older, introduce them to the fun they can have with a bike, a clothes pin and a discarded queen of hearts playing card.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.