I began my world travels years ago, where I spent 10 thrill-filled days in Africa, and I recall, even now, remarking at how remarkable it all was, how much fun we were having learning about where Africa has all its countries. Even though that wasn’t really the point of the game, as much as the delicious dialog between luck and logic that this game, like all good card games, seems to be all about.

It’s a card game, really – a tile game, even, for 2-4 players, maybe 9 to certainly adult. Not a board game at all even though you spend a lot of time looking at the board. You never really play on the board. You play on card holders, two of them, actually, one numbered 1-5, the other 6-10. You pick a card and place it into any slot in your card holder. And then another, and then other. Planning, all the while, to place each card so that when all ten are assembled onto your card holders, they will be in the right order, each country card leading to another, geographically adjacent country card, unless it’s a boat card and the boat card is the same color as the ocean you share with that country card, and even, after that, if you get another country card of a country that happens to be on the same ocean, then you can probably take the train to that country, which is, in turn, a non-stop plane-ride away from Vladivostok, as the saying goes.

But, of course, it never goes that way, and you wind up having to discard and pick and replace and let me tell you the planning, the heights and clarity of logic one can manifest, only to be felled by something as stupid as luck, argh, it’s enough to make you have fun. Sizable fun. Major FUN.

Anyhow, that was then. And that was Africa. There’s been USA and Europe. And now there’s Asia. And what does that mean? It means it’s a whole new game, one that you know how to play, but with O so many, many Asian countries. And the board, isn’t it subtly, and everso welcomely larger? And what about trains? Isn’t this the first of the 10 Day series to have trains? But it’s another 10 Days game, all right. You’re on a trek as fun as your Africa ever was, or USA or Europe, even, but in yet another part of the world called “Asia,” with so many Asian-sounding countries to learn about, and with such a fun way to do it, while you’re having so much fun playing, thanks to the cleverly globe-spanning people who made these trips possible.

I am certain you recall that Stack received a Major Fun Award a little over 4 years ago. In fact, it was a recipient of several awards: the Party Games award, the Thinking Games award, the much-touted Keeper award, and even, oddly enough, it was found most Senior-Worthy. And you probably even recall why.

I, on the other hand, have been exploring the game in greater depth, especially recently as I work more and more with various groups of seniors hereabouts. And what I have been exploring, actually, is the, shall we say, “Super Stack” set – two different sets of the Stack game (the deluxe, jumbo, of course), each set having different color dice, thereby enabling me to play a game with 8 people.

The large dice that come with the deluxe version prove to be especially comforting for senior eyes and hands. Easy to read, even at a distance, enjoyable to hold because of their greater heft, and easier to stack because of their larger size. Having enough for eight people makes the game ideal for building a sense of community and friendship. Because the group is larger, people don’t can play at a safe distance from each other (psychologically safe), but because they’re all sharing the same set of dice, they feel connected. If we need to, we can easily divide into smaller, more intimate groups. But having all those dice means that each player has twice as many options to consider. On the one hand, it makes the beginning of the game that much easier and more inviting. On the other, it makes the endgame that much more dramatic. Stacks get built, options constantly get fewer and fewer, the need to play strategically gets more and more vivid.

Stack, even with only 4 colors, has never disappointed us as a game for almost all ages. But having twice as many dice turns out to be more than twice as flexible, twice as interesting, for at least twice as many people.

Our first meeting at the Veterans Park Senior Center in Redondo Beach began with a game of Tumblin-Dice. It was at least as effective, and fun, as I had thought it was going to be – easy to learn, challenging, and yet with enough luck to keep people from taking it too seriously. Especially, given that people had come into the center expecting to learn more about how to play Texas Hold ‘em. Even older people, who had difficulty standing, were moving around, waiting for their turn with very apparent glee. The only obstacle was keeping score – doing the arithmetic calculations of adding and multiplying the spots on the dice – which, of course, is part of the challenge for children as well as seniors. Since this was the first game we played, I helped with the scorekeeping. Trying to slide the dice into the scoring areas was more than enough to keep people focused on fun.

But the event really didn’t become major fun, until we started playing A to Z. At first, there were just enough players so we could have one for each of the 4 boards. There are two dice – one, the category die, determines which of 6 questions you are trying to answer, the other, the timer die, determines how much time you have (15 or 30 seconds), and two special events – one that allows you to cover up any empty space, and second which lets you take chips off the board of any other player.

As I taught the game, I suggested that we ignore, for the time being, both of the dice. When it was someone’s turn, that player would pick a card, select any one of the six categories, and start the timer (giving themselves 30 seconds). I think, because we knew we were ignoring some of the rules (cheating, perhaps?), the game became even more fun. Later, when more people came in, we had to share boards, so it became a game between teams. And this made the game even more fun. Individual players didn’t feel so pressured because they were part of a team. We all knew we were kind of cheating (picking whatever item we wanted from the category cards, disregarding both dice), so the game became a shared thing, one that we had all adapted, for our own use, for our own fun.

And major fun it was.

from Bernie DeKoven, funsmith

Dear Major Fun,

Do you have/know of any adaptive games for seniors to do on their own? My dear Auntie recently entered a nursing home at age 96 after having been independent her whole life. She now needs major assistance & can participate in very few group activities. Although they do have an activities director, that person does things like bring Auntie magazines. Auntie used to love to play Bridge; I was thinking that if she had a flannel board of some kind that could hold cards for Solitaire that would be one thing she could probably do in her wheelchair or in bed. I haven’t been able to think of other solo activities, nor have I been able to come up with anywhere to find a board like I’m describing for playing cards.

Major Fun replies:

I’ve been Googling around. I think magnetic playing cards might be your best alternative. I found them fairly widely available. The most often recommended seem to be these.

There are also, of course, many electronic games that she might find of value. I liked this Big Screen Poker game – looks like it’s easy to see, easy to control.

However, since you asked, most seniors I know really crave people to play with, a lot more than things to play with by themselves. The real, life-restoring stimulation that they so much need comes from, well, living things.

from Bernie DeKoven, funsmith

Luck of the Draw is described as “a game for the artistically challenged.” And I am happy to tell you that this turns out to be a remarkably accurate description of the very people who will have the most fun playing it: the people who don’t like games that make them draw.

Which is exactly what Luck of the Draw does. It makes you draw. Things like: a monkey or a space shuttle or a bad hair day; a piranha, a used car or a dream date (there are three things to draw on each card, see, and the roll of the die tells you which one).

But the part of the game that makes the drawing actually fun and the fun actually Major, comes from another deck of cards, called “categories.” Categories like: “most over the top,” “most dramatic,” “stands out like a sore thumb.”

For it turns out that these cards, these “category” cards, serve as the criteria by which the drawings are judged, don’t you know. So, pretty much despite my assiduous efforts at a 45-second 3-D rendering of the Eiffel Tower in perspective with enticing hints of a chiaroscoro-like Parisian dawn, if the category turns out to be “Best Example of Minimalism,” I have no myopic critics to rail against, and nothing to show for my outstanding efforts but unrequited artistic angst. Whilst you, who only managed to draw a large, narrow, and somewhat crooked “A,” bask in the applause of your peers.

And for those players who have professional artistic aspirations, Luck of the Draw is a preternaturally poignant experience, capturing, with unavoidable clarity, the famously fickle fortunes of those who stake their livelihood on the currentmost definitions of “good art.”

Cover-up is a tic-tac-toe-like game, for all the best reasons: easy to learn, quick to play, and different enough from tic-tac-toe to make you have to think. It’s made of heavy plastic, also for all the best reasons: the pieces feel good in your hand, the playing board is 3-dimensional, and the base of the board serves as a storage compartment for the pieces.

It’s a two-player game, like its forebearers. Each player gets 12 discs: three large, four medium, and five small. The board is a 5×5 grid, but each space actually has three different levels. The lowest level accommodates the smallest pieces, the middle the medium, and the top level the largest. Players take turns placing discs in available spaces. Or moving the large discs. Once a smaller disc has been played, it remains in position until the end of the game.

Four-in-a-row wins. Not four-in-a-row-on-the-same-level. Just four-in-a-row. Of the same color. Now, as you move around your big guys ever so freely, covering what lies beneath with abandon (there only three of these pieces, so you need the smaller ones also in order to win), you do have to be alert to what you may uncover in the process – like one of your opponent’s pieces, which happens, now that you notice, to be exactly the fourth piece in a row, which means, alas, the victory is hers.

So it’s strategy, and just enough memory to make you have to pay closer attention, and it’s easy to learn, and it’s fast, and it’s well-made – everything you’d want in a majorly fun thinking game.

Zig Zag is a strategy game for two players, though we played it with two teams. The goal of the game is to be the first to line up 4 pegs in a row. The pegs, however, can only be moved along certain “tracks.” Tracks that each player has laid down, one turn at a time, patiently, o so patiently.

And that’s exactly what they were, our kids’ games tasting group, playing Zig Zag: patient. Thoughtful. Focused. And often taken completely by surprise.

Zig Zag is a well-made and well-conceived strategy game that can be played in as little as 5 minutes or as much as a half hour. The sturdy plastic bridge pieces – a longer one to reach diagonally adjacent holes, and a shorter one for the orthagonally similarly adjacent and also holes – fit smoothly into slots alongside each raised peg hole. Storage trays help keep the pieces sorted.

Any invitation for people to think together, kids, adults, is something you almost can’t afford to turn down. Especially if it’s fun. And challenging. And just complex enough to take people by surprise. And short enough so no one takes it seriously, this winning or losing thing, so everyone can focus, instead, on the fascination, the delight of the game.

Combo King is, from time to time, a game that makes you laugh. Sadly, what you are laughing at is someone else’s failure.

A failure of very little significance in the scheme of things, mind you. Which, I believe, is precisely what makes this game as fun as it is.

You have these dice. A significant number, actually. Eight, to be precise. And you have these cards. And on these cards are somewhat Yahtzee-like tasks. A remarkable array of significantly different Yahtzee-like tasks. Like “Use three dice and up to three rolls to get a multiple of five.” And if you succeed in this task as described on a card that was in your hand and is now on the table, you get to get rid of the card, and you get chips. You get more chips, wouldn’t you know, depending on the odds, you see, against your success. The first player who is out of cards wins.

Amazing how different some of the cards are from each other, and how compelling it is to try to figure out the odds. Similarly intriguing is the fact that the chips you win can be used, don’t you see, to purchase things like, say, another roll, or perhaps get another entire turn, or make one of your opponents pickup another card or trade a card with you or, well, you see, here you get to experience, in all its fullness, the “screw” if you’ll excuse the expression, “you effect.” Again, the oppressed oppress the oppress giving themselves totally over to luck and vindication. It’s great fun.

Let me tell you about MixUp, the game.

It is a two-player, multi-kibbitzer kind of strategic-like game. If you’ve ever played or seen a game called “Connect Four,” you’ll figure out the game more or less immediately, until you begin to realize the implications. Ah, the implications. There’s a board with chutes, you could say, and it stands up, and you take turns dropping pieces into any channel, even on top of your opponent’s tiles, in a familiarly Connect-Four-like manner.

Oh, your opponent’s pieces, which are, actually, just like yours, except from the opponent’s perspective they are mere shapes, while perhaps similarly from your perspecitive the tiles are mere colors, depending on who plays what. And you see, yes, of course, you are trying to get four-in-a-row of your what-have-you, but also, with all this color/shape craziness, you can get four-in-a-box. And then you win.

And then you slide all the tiles back into their compartment on the back of the board. And you slide the legs off and use them for the lid. And there you have it. Well-made. Well-played. Yet another fascinatingly Major Fun experience, from designer Maureen Hiron.

Think of perhaps shuffleboard with dice. Think, for example, of a shuffleboard that is on five levels, with, where there were once pucks to slide, dice to, well, slide perhaps or flick or shove. A shuffleboard looking pretty much exactly like this.

Think further of the role, or roll, of luck – how the dice, even though you try to slide them everso carefully, tend to change faces when they descend a level. There’s an intimation of the possibility that one could control all of this, making the die land 6-up even by the time it reaches the X4 level after having knocked all the opponents’ dice to off-table oblivion. On the other hand, there’s an unavoidable element of luck which makes a 7-year-old often as successful as a 57-year-old. Think of this, and you’ll understand, almost immediately, why Tumblin’ Dice has received a Major Fun Family Game award.

If you know shuffleboard, you’ll know how to play Tumblin’ Dice. When I introduced the game at the Tasting, I asked my fellow Tasters to play the game without looking at the rules. With almost no discussion, they played almost exactly the way the designer had intended them to. Because the game was so easy to figure out, it is exceptionally welcome in a variety of settings, especially recreation centers, classrooms and my house.

Speaking of classrooms, the game requires enough arithmetical calculations to make it actually useful in almost any elementary school setting. When a die lands in special scoring sections of the board, the face value of the die is multiplied by a given factor. So, in figuring out a total score players exercise both additional and multiplication, and, one might argue, even algebraic skills.

But don’t let its educational implications fool you. Tumblin-Dice is an invitation to minutes or hours of play, for kids, for adults, for the whole darn community. Did I mention adults? The kind of adults who might be interested in playing, um, professionally?

It’s made as well as it plays – a big, polished, two-piece all wood, table-worthy game that you might never put away. Ever.