Scrabble-icious! Why You Should LIke This Game, Too!

September 6, 2010

People may think that Scrabble is just a game for dweebs or old people, but they are seriously mistaken. Nay, Scrabble has become a mentor to me, a life coach that gently directs me as I wander through this world, pondering how on earth any word beginning with a “q” wouldn’t need a “u” along the way.

Thanks to Scrabble, I now know that, while there certainly is a place for raw talent in this world, luck is the passenger sitting just across the aisle. It is luck, after all, that directs our blind hands to the blanks, the good vowels (a,e o) and just enough “s” and “t” tiles to keep things interesting. Scrabble also has taught me that a good attitude can turn a lousy Scrabble rack into something feigning respectability. Ah, but even that can only take you so far, thus the reason that, come day’s end, the girl with a boob job knows what’s real and what isn’t.

Scrabble literally has helped me scrabble through those hard times when the tiles just aren’t working for me. It has instilled a confidence in me that hope rests just around the corner, in that next handful of wooden tiles that tickles my roaming fingers.

This old-fashioned game has reminded me of the importance of not doing important things. This lesson alone justifies the nominal expense of a Scrabble board. It is a lesson that more people these days ought to learn. When I sit down to a Scrabble game with Kristie and Jill, the urgency leaves my body. I forget about what I need to do, and focus instead on what I want to do…namely, kick their sorry asses into a sad pulp of misspelled acts of desperation. More often than not, when we’ve placed that last tile and tallied the final score, the question isn’t “What are you going to do now?” but rather “How about a quick second game?”

Scrabble has taught me not to worry about meanings as much as I need to worry about spellings. After all, who gives a rip what a faqir is if we’ve got the tiles to spell it? This “don’t worry, be happy” attitude invariably spills over to other areas of my life, though, fortunately, not so much in the kitchen, where mistaken details can be fatal.

Most folks can’t believe that Kristie and Jill and I—fairly respectable professor, nurse and teacher by day—make room to play this game each weekend, often twice within that time. Me? I can’t believe that more people don’t make time to play. It’s been a lifesaver for me.