Mind games with my son

They say (the ubiquitous ‘they’) that playing games that engage the brain is good for us Baby Boomers.

Question: Does getting my ass kicked by my son David while we play chess count?

As we get older, they say, our brains need mental exercise in the same way our bodies need physical exercise.

We need to keep our brains loose and gooey so those synapses can engage each other; we don’t want plaque build up that they say is responsible for Alzheimer’s.

Puzzles -- word puzzles like crosswords or number puzzles like Sudoku -- are recommended. I suspect chess would fall into that category too.

Chess is a mind game, made especially more challenging in this instance because I’m playing from my home in New Hampshire while my son is playing from his apartment in Brooklyn.

As a Christmas gift, David and my daughter Elizabeth gave me a beautiful chess board with pieces made as reproductions of the Isle of Lewis chessmen, the oldest chessmen in existence, probably dating back to the 12th century.

He has a board at home, I have my board at home, and we communicate our moves by texting each other on our cell phones (good thing I have an unlimited texting plan with Verizon, huh?).

We’re using the algebraic method to communicate our moves. The chessboard is set up as an alpha-numeric grid,. So, if I’m white and I want to make a first move with my knight, I might text David a message that says ‘NC3’. (Knight, by the way, uses the designation ‘N’ because the ‘K’ is taken by the king … it’s good to be the king.)

Two problems: I’m lousy at math, and I’m not very good at chess. So I have to think extra hard not only on my moves but remembering the layout of the grid.

David and I started playing chess together when he was a kid, each of us learning as we went along. David, it turns out, learned much more quickly than me.

I don’t think I’ve ever taken a game from him. Ever.

And our remote games, so far, have been no different.

He’s patient. He sees the bigger picture. He anticipates a couple of moves ahead. Hell, he anticipates a couple of games ahead.

I’m impulsive. I tend to attack with too much force and not enough thought.

And yet I play on, for the sake of my brain, but mostly because it’s fun to engage with my son.

But isn’t that the definition of insanity, as least according to Albert Einstein? Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results?

I keep playing David over and over again expecting I’ll win. Apparently I’m crazy to think I will. But I’ll take crazy over Alzheimer’s.