For many years, I’ve shared whimsically annoying holiday letters, each in a different genre, from “Epic Poem” to “Third Grade Homework Packet” to “Choose Your Own Adventure”. In 2006, it was a haiku:
As we descended into the darkness of this Winter Solstice, my Whimsy Muse wasn’t just quiet, she was mute. I thought about the past twelve months’ headlines. I thought about my dad. What genre could possibly be or fitting – or even tolerable – for summing up this year?
Then I thought of Dad a bit more, and it seemed obvious.
I was momentarily flummoxed when I realized that -- in this era of online games and online everything -- I don’t even own an entire and unsullied Scrabble set. The old wooden letter tiles of my childhood are mismatched and incomplete. But upon reflection, that seemed perfectly imperfect.
I know a lot of you have had a tough year – tougher than mine. Please, tell me if you need serious help. Also, please tell me if you need frivolous help: a phone call, or a pie, one of the blank tiles to reach the triple word score. And in the meantime, even if you’re a few letters short and have lost your dictionary, play anyway. Keep playing.
Happy solstice, my friends.
