For about three years now, I have been playing cut-throat, serious, online Scrabble every single day with a friend in Boston with whom I first began playing 45 years ago. It is the REAL Scrabble, and you access it on a U.K. site called the Pixie Pit. You have to pay a fee . Our scores are always in the high 300s, frequently reach the 400s, and even occasionally pass 500. If you don't know Scrabble, that would be similar to bowling consistently in the high 200s. I lose at least 2/3rds of the games, because he is a brilliant strategist with an astonishing vocabulary, and we play without dictionaries.
We always have three games going simultaneously, and take at least one turn a day. Sometimes when we both seem to be home and on our computers, we play nearly all day long.
It is a glorious and unexpected way to reconnect with my old friend.
Curiously, about a week-and-a-half ago he stopped playing out of the blue. I knew something was dreadfully wrong. I nearly called the police in his hometown, but my sense was that he was okay, even though he was in jeopardy. It turned out that he had been hospitalized after a massive heart attack, and I knew he was in trouble only by virtue of our Scrabble games.
Ah, this weird but wonderful new electronic world of ours!
--
Bill
Main blog: Fear, Fun and Filoz
Main web site: Kirbyvariety
