We had the 1984 edition with the flimsy paper board that never laid flat, and my brother and I fixed that by sliding a big atlas under it. The bills got so soft from sweat and Doritos that a five looked like a one, so we just kept a pencil nearby and wrote the values back on. When a stack of infantry got knocked over we counted it as a dice roll, which honestly made the game better. The new set looks nice but it can't give you a pile of money with tape on it.

Ask if the $750 guy also offers a free unicorn ride.

Funny thing about the number 41 is that it sneaks up on you in stages. My dad had maybe 6 hammers his whole life and knew where each one was, but somewhere along the way hammers quit being tools and turned into souvenirs. Here is the angle nobody talks about: every one of those 41 is a little memory of a project or a person, so the count is really a count of jobs you finished and folks you knew. That drawer full of extras is basically a photo album that weighs 60 pounds. The one I never touch is a stubby tack hammer with a cracked handle from my uncle's estate, useless for anything I do, and it stays because throwing it out would feel like throwing out him.