The illusion of agency coupled with an ever-improving digital estate scratches my fixer-upper itch As I hurtle toward middle age, I find solace in having some of the trappings of an adult life: a solid job, freedom from (most of my) soul-crushing debt, a car that I paid for myself, and the right to spend an entire Saturday afternoon rewatching Parks and Recreation guilt-free. However, apart from the married-with-2.5-kids bit, which I?m still on the white picket fence about, there is one piece of the American dream that seems exceptionally out of reach, especially living in the Bay Area: owning a home. Instead, I?ve found my tiny slice of the pie in a silly freemium iPhone game.
The foundation of Matchington Mansion is Candy Crush with slight tweaks to avoid litigation. By matching colored cushions in groups of three or more, you clear the board and rack up stars. But unlike games in which levels are strung together with a perfunctory board game-like map and a very loose plot, Matchington Mansion has a bizarrely baroque premise and narrative framework. As the game opens, you learn that Jane, an elderly author with whom you have no blood relationship, has willed you her rundown estate. Your mission is to trade in the stars you earn from swiping cushions together to clean, renovate, and furnish the space, both indoors and out.
Tiffany, the ruffle-skirted interior designer who guides you through the game, seems to also live in the mansion, Kato Kaelin-like. Then there?s ...