While the searing hot weather and limitless federal debt may take up most of the space in my head, nobody wants to hear or read any more about things we are helpless to prevent or control. Well, I don’t, and since I’m the decider around here, we are talking about something else: internet scrabble.
I have noticed that one of the first apps that is a “must have” for new smartphone owners is the free app “Words with Friends.” It is a great feeling to know that you will never again be bored in a doctor’s waiting room, as long as the wait time doesn’t exceed your battery’s charge. What I hate about the game is that some words, like “zen” aren’t recognized, while others, such as “xi” are ok. Don’t know about anyone else, but I never heard of “xi”, until I started with the online scrabble. This reminds me of a story I heard from my friend, Mary Angel, who is a gifted singer, speller, and storyteller.
One day I was out working in my yard when Mary Angel drove up in a rented convertible. She saw me throw a huge dirt clod out of my flower bed and started laughing and laughing. When she finally was able to talk, she told us a story that Frank, her New Yorker friend, had relayed to her. An acquaintance of Frank got stopped twice in the same day for DUI (hard to believe this isn’t about Louisiana, I know), and got sent upriver to spend some time in the Big House. One day, during recreation hour, he was asked to play Scrabble with another, somewhat larger, guest of the State. Feeling that it was unwise to decline, Frank’s friend sat down to play.
Frank got several calls that afternoon from the friend, who used up all his calling privileges for the month. He called to share his updates to Webster’s Dictionary – The Inmates’ Version, a quite questionable lexicon. The first new word the friend questioned was, “CLOB,” which the opponent defined as, “You know, a big ole dirt clob.” He and Frank debated the wisdom of actually challenging the play, and eventually the friend agreed to “clob.” Clob was followed by “PUMM,” a tasty, purple fruit, similar to a peach. The final call was over the word “ZOOMY.” That is what an airplane do when it go down the runway, it be zoomy, man.” All three words got a pass.
So now, every time I see a big clod of dirt or an airplane taxiing down the runway, I recall this story and laugh. I think about my friends and the stories we have shared. Through good times and bad, they get me through– the friends and the stories.