I have a secret vice. It
involves technology and many hours of semi-mindless diversion. I’m not much of a television watcher or a
video gamer, though I have nothing against others who enjoy these
forms of entertainment. Personally, I’d rather read or socialize than watch television
or play games on screens.
Here’s my confession: I
recently discovered online scrabble and I think I’m addicted. As a writer, I
spend a lot of time writing books and articles or researching. I love words and
the way they can be manipulated to make a point. I love the creative aspect of
building a thesis or a story by stringing words together to make an impact. I
love the pictures that can be created with words and the rhythm they can
produce.
Playing scrabble doesn’t do any of these things. It’s more
like putting together a puzzle of letters. I must also admit that
through my penchant for the game, I have learned an array of new words, but haven’t even bothered looking them up. Words like KA, QI, QAT, ZA mean nothing to me other than the points they
garner. The biggest thrill is to use all your letters in one go (a bingo), which earns you fifty bonus points.
You can “befriend” a player and find each other for future games. You can also chat with your anonymous opponents on a message
board. We congratulate each other for a game well-played or for an awesome
word. I learn many
interesting things from these North American players. For instance, a woman told me that her son, who was in
the army reserve, was called in to fight the dangerous fire raging in Southeast Oregon
and she was playing scrabble to distract herself from her worries.
One
gentleman from Arizona, who I became scrabble “friends” with, is almost thirty
years older than me and a whiz at the game. He told me he’s been playing for about
seventy years. I enjoy the competition and his clever, cheerful banter. He also
told me that Canadian players are always polite.
Then there are the sore losers. Some players quit half-way
through because they have no hope of catching up.
The gracious ones continue playing right until the end even though they are
getting creamed. One time, someone was pummeling me and about three quarters of the
way in, my computer crashed. I'm sure my opponent thought I
quit because I was losing.
The problem with this game, as with many computer, video,
television, and various other electronic diversions, is that once you start
playing you can completely lose track of time. One evening I finally stopped at 2:30 a.m. after having been at it for several hours. How
could I whittle away so much time? Not only was I losing precious sleep, but I
would start the next day in a woozy fog. The worst thing was that this kept happening. Instead of reading before going to bed, I found myself playing
scrabble until my head dropped onto the keyboard.
As a freelance writer, I can’t afford to waste a lot of
time. During my waking hours I should be working on assignments or seeking them
out. And when I’m not working, I should be doing something active rather than
sitting in front of the computer playing games. But alas, after spending a few
hours at my work station (which happens to be in my kitchen), instead of using
my break to tackle the dishes or other domestic chores that have accumulated, I
make myself a cup of coffee and launch into a game of scrabble.
I’m starting to understand how my kids can spend hours
playing video games. For years, I’ve been at them to leave the screens
and be more physically active. But understanding it doesn’t
make it all right. I think it’s time to restrict my scrabble time and
muster up some self discipline and become more physically active myself (does housework count?). If I can’t practice what I preach, I have no
right to criticize anyone else for their electronic obsessions. It's time to at least limit my scrabble madness.
By writing about this, I thought I might convince myself to cut back on my online scrabble obsession. But now I just want to play more! I’m afraid that my self-imposed scrabble
moratorium will have to start tomorrow, or the day after...
