I miss Scrabble.

There are a lot of folks out there doing a lot of important things. Doctor friends go to work saving lives every day. Scientist friends go to work to discover new things to make our lives better (unless they're one of those "green scientists" in which case they work on new ways to make our lives worse: I'm talkin' to you low-flow toilet and twisty lightbulb people). Lawyer friends go to work for an hour and a half each day to remind us that, yes, we too could have been rich beyond merit if we'd abdicated our soul in college in favor of law school. The rest of us cling to those things we do that, if not important, at least make us happy. For me, that happiness comes in the form of a well played game.

I grew up in a forest raised by manbearpigs. As such, without a daddy figure to lead me, I never quite grew into the role of a Chess master. This and this alone is the only thing that keeps me from being one of those jedi-master heroes that pop up in the occasional Hollywood movie. You know the one. He's the wizened genius, pulling off the ultimate smooth operator persona and gaming the system. The chess master runs a ring of super-thieves in some David Mamet-like screenplay with bad dialogue and fun but hole-filled plot. If only I'd learned chess, the world could have been mine in similar style. Instead, I've thrown my certified genius (thank you Acme University) in on the complex game of Scrabble.

That's right, Scrabble has nuances. This isn't just some game for word-wonks filled with the holy spirit of the Oxford English Dictionary. Much like Chess, this sucker can be used to eviscerate your enemy. You can trip up, box in, and stump your prey from even making a move. Scrabble, in the hands of the right intellect, becomes a game of chance, knowledge, and cunning. No, I daresay Scrabble becomes the scepter of a mighty latter-day demi-god!

The moral of the story, if you love playing Scrabble, don't make your wife cry by beating the tar out of her.