Candy Crush Saga, for the uninitiated, is your basic "match three" game available on Facebook, the web, iDevices, Droids and probably outer space. It has a few twists, however, that have managed to capture the zeitgeist of low-tech gamers and harbored addiction in many circles (See Top 10 Signs You and Your Friends are Addicted to Candy Crush).As I wait the requisite 30 minutes for a new "life," I pontificate on how the developers over at King.com captured special needs parenting in these colorful, little candy wrappers.
So you get these five lives and you are trying to complete levels with specific challenges and limited moves available. When you run out of moves before achieving your goal, you lose a life. You can wait for a new one; buy one (no way); or ask your friends to help.
It's damn hard doing this alone. While it can be hard to ask for help sometimes - you don't want to impose; they won't understand; you just asked yesterday - this stuff is nearly impossible without a village (see Meditation for an Autism Mom). The best of friends know you are struggling. They send "life" before you have to ask. Maybe it's in the form of a funny text, or a quick call, or a night out...but it's extremely re-energizing, especially if you've been having a particularly tough, level 65 kind of week.
Some people (I've noticed it's mostly men, incidentally) refuse to connect their game to Facebook. Are they ashamed? Do they prefer keeping things private? Perhaps they don't want to deal with any questions or public scrutiny. Regardless, they will not be able to ask anyone for help and they will, perhaps even unknowingly, face increased frustration as they run out of life (or end up spending lots of in-app purchase money).
Either way, Candy Crush Saga requires lots of attention. Our other games miss us. Scramble With Friends actually resigned a few games on our account, abandoned. "What happened to you," our friends ask? Well, I miss my old self too, but let's face it, the Candy owns me now. It's not better. It's not necessarily worse. It's just different.
It might be more demanding than some games (although have you ever had to take care of a digital fish tank it or pet shop? Just sayin'), but did you know that every seventh person in Hong Kong plays Candy Crush? Google it. If it's that prevalent, perhaps we should spend more energy on tolerance and inclusion, rather than trying to fight it.
The sweets get ugly sometimes, I know. Players tend to curse, gasp, misbehave and might even throw an iPad across the room. OF COURSE we know that's not appropriate behavior, but sometimes our frustrations get the better of us. Perhaps even more so when our candy has left us sleep-deprived, gluten-dependent and speechless.
On the game's level map, we see all our friends' avatars way, way, ahead of us. We notice this when we're stuck on a particularly irritating level. We wonder, how did they get so far? Was it easier for them? Did the Candy Crush gods give them more color bombs? We must catch up!
We must remember to control that jealousy and resentment. We can't ever know what's going on behind closed doors. Maybe it's because they are up all night with a reckless, child insomniac. Maybe they spent lots of money and are now bankrupt. Maybe they've been playing for a very long time. Our level can be just as fulfilling, even if it's not exactly what you expected. Holland has windmills...and tulips!
As you do master a level, the euphoria can be short-lived because there's always another level ahead! New, unexpected challenges come out of nowhere. Exploding chocolate? Barriers? I thought I had this all figured out!
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| Sad Heart. Send Lives! |
Don't fight it. Yes, there are plenty of people out there who have never discovered Candy Crush (gasp). Or they haven't been lured into its frustratingly satisfying lair. Maybe they're content with their non-dependent lives, and they tell us in superior tones, "I'll just stick with Bejeweled, thank you very much."
True, our Candy Crush existence might be grueling at times, but I like to think we're better for it. We have demonstrated strategy, perseverance, tolerance and good humor.
We appreciate the sweet stuff so much more when it's that harder to attain. We celebrate every small success - the jelly is gone! - and know that they truly can never, ever understand unless they're right there in the candy trenches with us.
Nom nom nom!
***So, how many of you think I need a Candyvention right around now?
