The lyrics
Some say life is just a game
But I’ve learned to extend the analogy
There isn’t only a single game table
And choosing who you get to play with is the key
Some feel each game is just to win
Some just want fun and more invitations
Either way the other players attracted
Will be influenced by those expectations
So many good vibes
So many tables
The biggest win for me
An offer to return
Proof in the pudding
When it comes to hosting
How many want to show when it’s my turn?
I’ve waited all my life
For this season
I’ll make the most of it now
All the long hours
The sacrifices
You know I think it’s my turn now
We don’t get to choose when
The games are over
Likely surprised
When game nights adjourn
Things unsaid and roads not taken
I want none of that when it’s my turn
NOTES
It's My Turn is intended to be a fun romp, and a comparison of life to a game. (Or games!) But I go deceptively deeper at the end of the song.
For those who don't already know, I spend a good deal of time playing board games and, more importantly, spend a great deal of time with many friends who play games. Being the nerd that I am, I use an app called BG Stats on my phone to track the games I've played since I retired about 5 years ago. In total as of today (5/21/2024) I have logged 2096 games with 258 different people in 89 different locations. Yes, that's an average of more than a game a day. Is that more than anyone I know? Probably not. But suffice it to say that a gaming analogy is not a reach for me at this point!
On a return drive from a gaming “retreat” to one of these gamer's secret locations, my friend Michael Stockstill offered a life to gaming comparison. He said the object is not “to win”, but rather to have a chance to be invited to more games. He may have been quoting somebody, but for the purposes of these notes I'll give him the credit for this morsel of wisdom. And the first two verses and chorus of the song completely steal this idea for my selfish purposes!
The bridge “I've waited all my life for this season” can been seen as a bit selfish at first glance given my stage of life. But it's a sentiment common to many songs today, and perhaps a finer point to the “not throwin' away my shot” attitude that people much younger than I do not lose sight of.
(On a grammatical point, I enjoy that I “turn” the context of “it's my turn” here and at the end of the song.)
But if you're looking for any deep meaning in this light song, the final verse should bring that home for you. It may seem trite to say that you never know when your last day will come. Intellectually we all know it. But imagine being in that moment. “This is it.”
It doesn't matter whether that moment takes weeks. Again, you may not be surprised to learn that I'm a baseball fan. I've read Babe Ruth's biography by Robert Creamer twice, once recently. The man who almost literally owned the entire U.S. and could do almost anything he wanted athletically suddenly found himself robbed of his strength and abilities. His last time on the golf course he hit a perfectly clean tee shot, watched it go only 90 yards, and sobbed. It had to be a surprise when it all just went away.
I tried to put myself in my Mom's shoes in her last few weeks. Did she ever think “This is it?” I honestly don't know; she may have thought some mixture of drugs and procedures was going to get her home safe. Her last words of “what's happening?” didn't convince me that she was aware that it was the end.
“We don't get to choose when the games are over, likely surprised when game nights adjourn” is not meant to be trite. Yes, we know it's going to happen. But the ending is still probably going to be a surprise.
Given that, I think the concluding lines speak for themselves.
“Things unsaid and roads not taken, I want none of that when it's my turn.”