Did you ever play “King of the Mountain” when you were a kid? It was one of my favorite games. The “King” would go atop his mountain (usually a very tiny hill or hump) and yell, “I am the King of the Mountain!” And then he would immediately be challenged. Other kids would come at him (or her) and try to pull him down or push him off. He in turn would push them away. He had the advantage because he was on terrain just a bit higher and, therefore, gravity helped him a little.
|The King of the Mountain.|
Whenever I was Queen, I would guard my territory like crazy! My whole world became that one little patch of land. I had to hang on to that hill. I knew every other kid wanted it, and if you succeeded in bringing down the King, you became the next King or Queen. It was always fun to try to drag or push the King or Queen off the mountain, but it was a lot more fun to actually be the King or Queen and guard it. I guess maybe because you knew that you had the one thing everyone else wanted: The top of the hill.
Now that I’m much older, I often think about the King of the Mountain. I still think it’s a great game. It’s funny how kids seem to instinctively know and play out adult dramas. On the one hand, we could say that the King of the Mountain ought to share his mountain with the rest of the kids, especially those who might be physically limited. On the other hand, it sure felt good to “have” that Mountain, and if we could defend it with strength and bravery and cunning strategy, why shouldn’t we keep it?
Of course, no one ever got hurt when playing the King of the Mountain. It was a game designed to test our strength, our skill, our ability to maneuver one opponent against another, and most especially, our loyalty to the "cause." In our adult lives, we all have our own little “patch,” our own little mountain, however humble it may be. We guard it, love it, and protect it. By golly, to this day, I am still the Queen of my Mountain!