– Random Writings: Column by Rebecca Lindquist – - Waiting to harvest

– Random Writings: Column by Rebecca Lindquist –

I grew up around farming. Dad drove a milk truck and worked at a dairy, at night, while he and Mom milked cows, raised hogs, chickens and sheep, along with planting corn, cutting hay fields and tending two large gardens during the day.

I have always loved seeing seeds turn into beautiful flowers and fresh vegetables, so you can imagine my delight, when my friends’ little boy, Warren, introduced me to the enchanting world of Township. Township is a farming, citybuilding game that one can play on multiple devices.

It’s designed to engage the participant, by growing crops, harvesting said crops to manufacture grain for cows, sheep, pigs and chickens. Produce harvested is then used to make food products, such as jams, baked goods, hamburgers, French fries, ice cream items, clothing, household products and an abundance of other assorted wares.

A player earns coins with each harvest or sale of merchandise. As coins accumulate, opportunities are presented to build additional houses, factories or businesses to increase the town’s population. This is just a brief overview, but more involved than it sounds.

Trains deliver building materials of bricks, glass panes, shovels, concrete slabs, hammers, nails and axes, in exchange for specified goods. Once the train cars are full, the train leaves the station, posting the destination and the return arrival time.

An airport has a single plane that arrives with a list of cargo needed. This is where it gets tricky, because you only have a certain amount of time to fill the order. Regardless, whether the hold is full or not, when the specified 15 hours is up, the plane takes off, only to return in five hours, with a new cargo list.

That may seem like a substantial amount of time, but when six rubber plants are needed and take 12 hours each to harvest, that’s cutting it a little too close sometimes.

Every once in a while, there’s an item on the plane’s docket that I don’t even have yet. I needed six Post-It notes to fill the request, but hadn’t achieved the level required to build the stationery factory yet, where the item is produced. Asking for help from another player is an option, but I’m hesitant for fear I can’t help fill their order in return.

The developer of this game purported it as casual farming. HA! For anything made for entertainment purposes, it certainly can be exasperating and stressful. Eight hours to harvest a cacao (chocolate) bean? I think I could travel to Ecuador and collect some myself, and it would take less time.

Time-consuming, but fun, are the ships that travel to an island of your choice, to carry back grapes, bananas, olives, watermelons, coconuts, limes, shrimp and plums. Additional goods are offered as you reach each new level. A round trip varies from four to seven hours, depending on island location.

I owe an apology to all people who play electronic games. I used to think how anyone can sit and play for hours on end, is beyond me. I must now recant that uncharitable, judgmental accusation. I’m completely obsessed.

When Warren first attempted to teach me, I couldn’t seem to grasp the concept right away. Warren, ever sweet and sensitive to other people’s feelings, said, “You’re not a gamer, are you?”

I thought that was a tactful way to phrase it, instead of, “Wow, you really stink at this game!”

My main bone of contention with this whole set-up, is trying to build what I want, when I want. I have attempted, for weeks, to purchase a Mexican restaurant, but, every time, it states I need to increase the town’s population first.

Have you seen me? I’m more than enough “population” myself to support a new business venture that creates nachos, burritos, chili sauce and who knows what other mouthwatering delicacies. Of course, I realize it’s not actual food, but that’s beside the point. I apparently have unresolved anger management issues toward this simulated game.

In the event you decide to participate in this endeavor, I leave you with this bit of sage advice from a five-year-old aficionado: Don’t EVER leave your milk in the barn!