The Saturday (January 8, 2011), New York Times ran an article that compels me to write. Titled, Religion and Representation, it was written by Charles M. Blow.
In it, he points out that a full 16.1% of the American population is non-religious. They are not necessarily non-spiritual, or without some religious connections, but they are not affiliated with any established church organization and consequently, are unrepresented by Congress.
It resonates with me because 16.1% of the nearly 312,000,000 of the US population is a lot of people to have no representation, (about 4,9920,000 people) and I am one of them.
For a politician, being without a brick and mortar established church/synagogue/place of worship is like a political kiss of death. And even so, if it isn't the 'right' religion, they'll always have some explaining to do. Politicians don't necessarily believe in their affiliations, but they are smart enough to know they'd better have one and it better be the most politically correct one. Consequently, the 16.1% of us without a brick and mortar church are a huge minority whose lives are imposed upon by people with religious/political agendas. That's nothing new, and has been going on since forever.
In example, by modifying history, men in powerful positions took the opportunity to remove the blame of Christ's death from the Romans, who clearly killed Christ, to start a hatred of Jews trend which persists to present day. Once they gained power by 'owning' Christianity, they manipulated the masses to follow by associating the details of Christ's birth with pagan ideas and celebrations which were just too popular to shake. Hence, the virgin birth and coinciding the birth during the huge winter festivals of the pagans. Isn't it known that Christ was born in April? Even King Henry VIII killed two wives for bogus reasons to avoid falling from grace with the new branch of Protestantism that he himself invented to justify getting rid of his first wife when he couldn't because of religion. I mean, come on people, hasn't anyone noticed that Jesus ran around with a woman named Mary Magdalene, with whom he was probably intimate? She was his most intimate apostle. But somehow, through history, her power (as a woman) had to be denied by the church, and she suddenly became a whore? I don't really think that Christ would appreciate how people celebrate and observe his life, and I think he'd be appalled by the get ups worn by the Pope.
My gut instinct, even as a kid, told me that Judas was an historical patsy. I never believed he betrayed Christ. It came from a gut belief, maybe you can call it faith.
I was raised in a strict Roman Catholic upbringing including Catholic school for three years. By the first or second grade, I remember thinking, how does anybody believe this stuff? But the defining moment when I knew I fell from grace so to speak, was when I was taught that if I didn't follow Jesus I would burn in hell. What if I was born on a desert island and never heard of him? How could I burn in hell for that? It just didn't make sense. Ok, maybe it was due to the whacko nuns at that particular parochial school, but I don't think my Catholic school experience is atypical. And honestly, there are some really strange extremist protestants and muslims out there as well. And don't even get me started about pedaphile clergy members of all faiths.
People will argue that their belief in religious dogma is based on their faith. Which is fine, but my own faith based on my own perception is no less valid. Nor is the faith of the 16.1% of Americans who have become disenfranchised from mainstream religions less valid.
Why do so many of us tolerate religious discussion in Congress, (Representative Steve King of Iowa who justifies his views on healthcare based on what God would want) or allow our tax dollars to be spent arguing evolution vs creationsism in public schools? Isn't that what religious schools and homeschooling are for?
We lack representation because those of us who tend to live and let live, are so liberal that we allow other people to deny us our own decision making as well as our own credibility and being heard. (When my former husband and I decided to get married, we wanted to be married at the beach. But the Catholic Church, where I agreed to be married to appease my parents, would not recognize our marriage if we were married outdoors, even if we were married by a priest. So we had to compromise our wishes and settled on being photographed on the beach as newlyweds instead.) Why is that ok?
For that and many other reasons, I no longer follow the faith of my upbringing and until recently, I've kept my own personal religious beliefs private. I have been guilty of worshipping in my own closet and not being vocal about it. And this is exactly why I and the 16.1% of other spiritual yet non-religious Americans have given away our power and rights as citizens and have no representation in our own country.
I cringe everytime one of my facebook friends post things like, "Repost this if you think Jesus is our lord and savior." I never respond either way. It's what they believe, and that's fine. But some of them are the same friends who chuckle or worry when they learn that I am pursuing a path as an ordained wedding celebrant, because they cannot accept that the only dogma of my faith is to believe and worship the way I want to, so long as it harms no one.
Why am I the strange one?
Here is my one little voice for whoever happens upon it. I hope the other 16.1% speak up too, and soon.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
The Best is Yet to Come
When my ex-husband told our kids he was getting remarried, it prompted my practical jokester son to suggest to my ex that I officiate his wedding to his fiancee. Naturally, my ex and his fiancee declined on his offer, but it did bring to the forefront that I am indeed an ordained minister who can legally marry couples in NJ and any state in the US. It's a little secret I've kept to myself since Aug. 3, 2001. I have never officiated anyone's marriage, but I like the idea that I can and I know that I would do a bangup job if given the opportunity.
Back in 2001, the year my own father died, I was struggling to understand my own spirituality. I was raised in a strict Roman Catholic upbringing. My husband wasn't Catholic and although we married in the Catholic Church, we ended up raising our children in a very non-denominational kind of way.
My husband would attend Christian services from time to time, but I generally drifted from the church and began to worship in what most people would describe in a pagan way. I still pray, and frankly, I aspire to be Christ-like. I mean, who could ever say that the teachings of Christ are anything other than inspired? But as far as the hypocrisy shoved down my throat as a kid, and the politics of organized religion, I found myself no longer identifying with the church and given the corruption of holy men, pretty much decided to worship the divine in my own way. And to me, nothing makes more sense than to see the divine in all aspects of nature and to aspire to live an honest life based on the enlightened lives of those who serve(d) as an example.
It was at this time in 2001 that I stumbled upon the Universal Life Church, who for no fee at all, ordained me as a non-denominational minister allowing me to legally marry individuals who have their own way of thinking about God and the universe and want to celebrate and legalize their love for each other in a way true to themselves.
I kept it a secret, because I thought people would give me a hard time about it. But I take the role seriously, and would like nothing more than to marry couples who want their ceremony to resonate with their own spirituality.
My marriage broke up because we are flawed people and couldn't see our way to keeping our lives together. Should humans stay married until the end of their natural lives? I think it's something we should aspire to. But because we are human we are not ourselves divine and we make mistakes.
Having said that, should we be allowed to remarry after a failed marriage, without judgement and shame? Yes, I think so. Ending a marriage is no casual thing and we learn a great deal. If we are lucky enough to find love with another human being we need to forgive ourselves and our exes, and get on with the act of living and loving.
Good luck and many blessings to Stephen and his new wife Marnie.
And in 2011, one of my resolutions is that I aspire to marry at least one couple!
Happy New Year and New Life to One and All!
Back in 2001, the year my own father died, I was struggling to understand my own spirituality. I was raised in a strict Roman Catholic upbringing. My husband wasn't Catholic and although we married in the Catholic Church, we ended up raising our children in a very non-denominational kind of way.
My husband would attend Christian services from time to time, but I generally drifted from the church and began to worship in what most people would describe in a pagan way. I still pray, and frankly, I aspire to be Christ-like. I mean, who could ever say that the teachings of Christ are anything other than inspired? But as far as the hypocrisy shoved down my throat as a kid, and the politics of organized religion, I found myself no longer identifying with the church and given the corruption of holy men, pretty much decided to worship the divine in my own way. And to me, nothing makes more sense than to see the divine in all aspects of nature and to aspire to live an honest life based on the enlightened lives of those who serve(d) as an example.
It was at this time in 2001 that I stumbled upon the Universal Life Church, who for no fee at all, ordained me as a non-denominational minister allowing me to legally marry individuals who have their own way of thinking about God and the universe and want to celebrate and legalize their love for each other in a way true to themselves.
I kept it a secret, because I thought people would give me a hard time about it. But I take the role seriously, and would like nothing more than to marry couples who want their ceremony to resonate with their own spirituality.
My marriage broke up because we are flawed people and couldn't see our way to keeping our lives together. Should humans stay married until the end of their natural lives? I think it's something we should aspire to. But because we are human we are not ourselves divine and we make mistakes.
Having said that, should we be allowed to remarry after a failed marriage, without judgement and shame? Yes, I think so. Ending a marriage is no casual thing and we learn a great deal. If we are lucky enough to find love with another human being we need to forgive ourselves and our exes, and get on with the act of living and loving.
Good luck and many blessings to Stephen and his new wife Marnie.
And in 2011, one of my resolutions is that I aspire to marry at least one couple!
Happy New Year and New Life to One and All!
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Top 10 Perks of an Unemployed Teacher
OK, so it's been a while since my last blog entry. What can I say? I'm easily distracted.
Distracted by the condition of unemployment brought on by recent budget cuts courtesy of the State of NJ and the school district of Pleasantville, NJ, I've spent the last six months glued to my computer looking for full-time employment. My position as an art teacher was eliminated. There were other art teachers, but Iwas the only non-tenured teacher in the bunch, so I got the ax. It had nothing to do with merit. Timing is everything and to add insult to injury, it happened seven days after I bought my house and signed a mortgage.
I'm beginning to think that at age 52 I have to abandon the one thing I'm best at doing and love the most. I worked full-time while raising my children and putting kids through college and going back to school for my own master's degree seemed like a selfish act. But now it is painfully clear that without a master's degree I simply can't compete with the new generation of 20 somethings who have them. Doesn't seventeen years in a classroom count for anything? It's a terrifying prospect that I may never teach again, or even have a career.
I could drone on about the corruption of the district and the corrupt nature of our teacher's union, and even our idiot governor, but nobody cares and it's just too painful for me to dwell on these facts.
So, in the interest of comic relief, here is a list of the top ten perks of my situation:
1) I don't have to make signs or draw illustrations for other teachers or administrators who think that teaching 100 students a day isn't enough of a job.
2) I will never again lose my lunch period due to a fire alarm!
3) I actually had the time to write holiday cards this year to people that I love instead of people whose asses I have to kiss.
4) I get to play doctor on myself since I lost my health benefits when I lost my job. I should have gone to medical school, I bet I wouldn't be in this situation if I had.
5) I can be proud of my dedication as a teacher and that I have 33 accumulated vacation and sick days that I never used. Guess I shouldn't have had perfect attendance all those years, huh?
6) I actually get through the day without anybody stealing anything from me.
7) I just love receiving automated telephone calls from my former district informing me in two different languages that a district event has been cancelled. (It doesn't matter that I've contacted the superintendent twice to please remove me from the district's calling list.)
8) No more missing favorite TV shows or family time because I'm grading work or calling parents.
9) No more losing hours of my precious weekend doing lesson plans.
10) My boyfriend moved in with me to help me with expenses. After raising three children and working my entire adult life I may have a career as a housewife afterall. NOT. It pays less than unemployment.
Distracted by the condition of unemployment brought on by recent budget cuts courtesy of the State of NJ and the school district of Pleasantville, NJ, I've spent the last six months glued to my computer looking for full-time employment. My position as an art teacher was eliminated. There were other art teachers, but Iwas the only non-tenured teacher in the bunch, so I got the ax. It had nothing to do with merit. Timing is everything and to add insult to injury, it happened seven days after I bought my house and signed a mortgage.
I'm beginning to think that at age 52 I have to abandon the one thing I'm best at doing and love the most. I worked full-time while raising my children and putting kids through college and going back to school for my own master's degree seemed like a selfish act. But now it is painfully clear that without a master's degree I simply can't compete with the new generation of 20 somethings who have them. Doesn't seventeen years in a classroom count for anything? It's a terrifying prospect that I may never teach again, or even have a career.
I could drone on about the corruption of the district and the corrupt nature of our teacher's union, and even our idiot governor, but nobody cares and it's just too painful for me to dwell on these facts.
So, in the interest of comic relief, here is a list of the top ten perks of my situation:
1) I don't have to make signs or draw illustrations for other teachers or administrators who think that teaching 100 students a day isn't enough of a job.
2) I will never again lose my lunch period due to a fire alarm!
3) I actually had the time to write holiday cards this year to people that I love instead of people whose asses I have to kiss.
4) I get to play doctor on myself since I lost my health benefits when I lost my job. I should have gone to medical school, I bet I wouldn't be in this situation if I had.
5) I can be proud of my dedication as a teacher and that I have 33 accumulated vacation and sick days that I never used. Guess I shouldn't have had perfect attendance all those years, huh?
6) I actually get through the day without anybody stealing anything from me.
7) I just love receiving automated telephone calls from my former district informing me in two different languages that a district event has been cancelled. (It doesn't matter that I've contacted the superintendent twice to please remove me from the district's calling list.)
8) No more missing favorite TV shows or family time because I'm grading work or calling parents.
9) No more losing hours of my precious weekend doing lesson plans.
10) My boyfriend moved in with me to help me with expenses. After raising three children and working my entire adult life I may have a career as a housewife afterall. NOT. It pays less than unemployment.
Monday, July 20, 2009
July 20, 1969
Clearly, every blogger on the planet is writing about the first Moon Walk.
But I think 1969 in general, deserves a nod.
I was almost eleven years old when man landed on the moon on July 20, 1969.
My parents made a big deal of it, and I got to stay up late to watch it. My parents were excited and so that let me know it was a big deal. I remembered thinking, "I thought we did this already." Such is the jaded mind of a ten year old. But then again, the TV had brought so many astounding events into our homes is it any wonder?
Vietnam was a daily dose of reality on TV during the dinner hour. My father's cousin was killed there and that made it more real. I had nightmares about war machines in the sky. The first troop withdrawls of American Soldiers were sent home that summer. But sadly Americans didn't welcome them home or treat them as heroes as we do our soldiers today. They were twice, the victims of an unpopular war and were treated badly. (Years later it still pains me to hear a beau recall his personal experiences upon returning to the U.S. after serving his country.)
Mary Jo Kopechne was killed at Chappaquiddick, which once again brought the Kennedy family back into the forefront with another scandal and tragedy.
The Tate and LaBianca murders happened that same summer. It affected me so much that I recently made a pilgrimage to CA to see the La Bianca and Tate homes and even Ms. Tate's grave. (The Tate home has since been demolished.) I recalled the graphic memories as I stood by Ms. Tates grave and shivers crawled up my spine. So very sad.
The REAL Woodstock happened that summer. The day after my 11th birthday, which really made it stand out in my mind. I remember watching the Woodstock hippies on TV and thinking how cool those teenagers were. (How could I have known that my future ex-husband and father of my children was somewhere in that rain-soaked, pot-smoking, hippy crowd?)
John Lennon and Yoko Ono staged their 'Bed In' along with a solo which pretty much meant that the Beatles were probably going to cease to exist. I think the Beatles made their last public appearance sometime that year on the roof of Abbey Road Studios and that was pretty cool too.
Even the Gay Rights Movement was born as TV covered the riots in NY.
All these grown-up events in the same year that the Brady Bunch came on the air. (And at that time who could have guessed that the Brady Bunch dad was Gay?)
Although it didn't happen in '69, The Jackson Five were soon to make their TV debut in 1970 which I also remember. I was absolutely amazed to realize that Michael was the exact same age as I was. (Born in August of 1958.) I remember the exact moment I learned this fact, hanging out with my then best friend Sue and playing Jackson Five records in her bedroom.
(Who could know in a few dozen more years, he would have invented his own Moon Walk, and come to such a tragic end?)
But I think 1969 in general, deserves a nod.
I was almost eleven years old when man landed on the moon on July 20, 1969.
My parents made a big deal of it, and I got to stay up late to watch it. My parents were excited and so that let me know it was a big deal. I remembered thinking, "I thought we did this already." Such is the jaded mind of a ten year old. But then again, the TV had brought so many astounding events into our homes is it any wonder?
Vietnam was a daily dose of reality on TV during the dinner hour. My father's cousin was killed there and that made it more real. I had nightmares about war machines in the sky. The first troop withdrawls of American Soldiers were sent home that summer. But sadly Americans didn't welcome them home or treat them as heroes as we do our soldiers today. They were twice, the victims of an unpopular war and were treated badly. (Years later it still pains me to hear a beau recall his personal experiences upon returning to the U.S. after serving his country.)
Mary Jo Kopechne was killed at Chappaquiddick, which once again brought the Kennedy family back into the forefront with another scandal and tragedy.
The Tate and LaBianca murders happened that same summer. It affected me so much that I recently made a pilgrimage to CA to see the La Bianca and Tate homes and even Ms. Tate's grave. (The Tate home has since been demolished.) I recalled the graphic memories as I stood by Ms. Tates grave and shivers crawled up my spine. So very sad.
The REAL Woodstock happened that summer. The day after my 11th birthday, which really made it stand out in my mind. I remember watching the Woodstock hippies on TV and thinking how cool those teenagers were. (How could I have known that my future ex-husband and father of my children was somewhere in that rain-soaked, pot-smoking, hippy crowd?)
John Lennon and Yoko Ono staged their 'Bed In' along with a solo which pretty much meant that the Beatles were probably going to cease to exist. I think the Beatles made their last public appearance sometime that year on the roof of Abbey Road Studios and that was pretty cool too.
Even the Gay Rights Movement was born as TV covered the riots in NY.
All these grown-up events in the same year that the Brady Bunch came on the air. (And at that time who could have guessed that the Brady Bunch dad was Gay?)
Although it didn't happen in '69, The Jackson Five were soon to make their TV debut in 1970 which I also remember. I was absolutely amazed to realize that Michael was the exact same age as I was. (Born in August of 1958.) I remember the exact moment I learned this fact, hanging out with my then best friend Sue and playing Jackson Five records in her bedroom.
(Who could know in a few dozen more years, he would have invented his own Moon Walk, and come to such a tragic end?)
Living by the 8 Ball
Last week while grocery shopping, I noticed the 8 Ball toy. I didn't expect to see it there on the shelf in the context of being a grocery store item. As it sat there and I stared at it for a few seconds, it awakened the chambers of my brain that long ago stored away the memories of my young self looking to the 8 Ball to reveal the meaning of life.
All these memories in the flash of time it took me to reach for it on the shelf and find a special, safe spot for it in my cart.
I continued the mundane task of food shopping and actually forgot about it until I got home and unpacked it. Again, it demanded my attention and while unpacking the other groceries, I found another special, safe spot for it in my apartment where I could leave it until I finished my chores.
Once done, I retreated with a cup of tea to a comfy area while I contemplated the 8 Ball still in its packaging. I remembered that my sister somehow managed to claim my original 8 Ball. The packaging claimed that this new one had 20 responses, as though the original had fewer, but I have no memory of that detail.
As I removed the packaging, I did it as though I were unraveling a sacred object. I was struck by the almost ritualistic way I was perceiving and handling this little object. I realize now, that this moment was significant because it honored in its own way, the beginning of my childhood interest in making sense of the unknowable aspects of reality that we call life. Sure, my friends and I used the Ouija Board too, but the 8 Ball was a cut to the chase method and offered direct responses. And sometimes it even offered an opportunity to come back and check later (and who doesn't like that when they're obsessing over a question?)
Oddly enough, I didn't start asking a trillion questions. I asked only one that first day.
It occured to me that for all my effort in making the best choices I know how, it has not left me so well off in life. I don't mean to say that I am bitter, sad, or unhappy, but for all the effort I've used to think through the situations and decisions that define the parameters of my life, I'm really not very impressed with where I ended up. And so in holding that little ball of plastic in my hand it further brought to light that so much of life is random and has as much to do with luck and timing as really knowing the right answers.
When people ask me what my religion is my honest response is that I believe in the law of physics. Like numbers, laws of the natural world lack emotion. Events happen as a consequence of other prior actions. Every split second decision, action, and thing I have ever done in my life merges with everything everyone else has ever done and and leads me here to this moment, holding this little black 8 Ball at age 50 and still wondering what the heck is going on. Even the way I hold the ball, ask a question and retrieve the answer has to do with the actions that led to this moment. "So what the hell" I thought, "I'm gonna try asking the 8 Ball for some answers."
So there it is. I'm going to allow the seemingly random decisions of the 8 Ball to guide some of my daily activities when I have no real clue what to do or no opinion either way.
Oh, and for the record, my decision to start this blog was based on a question I had for the 8 Ball.
All these memories in the flash of time it took me to reach for it on the shelf and find a special, safe spot for it in my cart.
I continued the mundane task of food shopping and actually forgot about it until I got home and unpacked it. Again, it demanded my attention and while unpacking the other groceries, I found another special, safe spot for it in my apartment where I could leave it until I finished my chores.
Once done, I retreated with a cup of tea to a comfy area while I contemplated the 8 Ball still in its packaging. I remembered that my sister somehow managed to claim my original 8 Ball. The packaging claimed that this new one had 20 responses, as though the original had fewer, but I have no memory of that detail.
As I removed the packaging, I did it as though I were unraveling a sacred object. I was struck by the almost ritualistic way I was perceiving and handling this little object. I realize now, that this moment was significant because it honored in its own way, the beginning of my childhood interest in making sense of the unknowable aspects of reality that we call life. Sure, my friends and I used the Ouija Board too, but the 8 Ball was a cut to the chase method and offered direct responses. And sometimes it even offered an opportunity to come back and check later (and who doesn't like that when they're obsessing over a question?)
Oddly enough, I didn't start asking a trillion questions. I asked only one that first day.
It occured to me that for all my effort in making the best choices I know how, it has not left me so well off in life. I don't mean to say that I am bitter, sad, or unhappy, but for all the effort I've used to think through the situations and decisions that define the parameters of my life, I'm really not very impressed with where I ended up. And so in holding that little ball of plastic in my hand it further brought to light that so much of life is random and has as much to do with luck and timing as really knowing the right answers.
When people ask me what my religion is my honest response is that I believe in the law of physics. Like numbers, laws of the natural world lack emotion. Events happen as a consequence of other prior actions. Every split second decision, action, and thing I have ever done in my life merges with everything everyone else has ever done and and leads me here to this moment, holding this little black 8 Ball at age 50 and still wondering what the heck is going on. Even the way I hold the ball, ask a question and retrieve the answer has to do with the actions that led to this moment. "So what the hell" I thought, "I'm gonna try asking the 8 Ball for some answers."
So there it is. I'm going to allow the seemingly random decisions of the 8 Ball to guide some of my daily activities when I have no real clue what to do or no opinion either way.
Oh, and for the record, my decision to start this blog was based on a question I had for the 8 Ball.
If you really want to get to know someone play a game of Scrabble with them
Seriously, everything you want to know about a person you can learn in the time it takes to play a game of Scrabble. Including yourself.
I don't mean an online game. I mean a real, sit down with the board and people, game.
The last game I played was about two weeks ago while visiting west coast friends and it seemed harmless enough. "Yes, sure, why not?" I said. There were four of us.
I should have known I was headed for trouble when one of my friends started off by saying that she likes to modify the rules to allow the use of proper nouns. We all agreed since it seemed like a harmless change.
I suggested we get the dictionary. How do you play Scrabble (check challenges, etc) without a dictionary? Our friends didn't own a dictionary but decided that between the four of us we could determine a word's fair play. Sounded like trouble, but what the heck, I agreed to play what I perceived to be a casual, fun, anything goes game of Scrabble.
What was I thinking?
Suddenly the one rule change had sub rules. (OJ could not be used as a proper name since 'everyone knows it really stands for orange juice' or at the very most Orenthal James which still makes it an abbreviation and abbreviations aren't allowed) "Seriously?" I asked. I defended my position by saying no one would argue Tony wasn't a proper name even though it was a nickname for Anthony, so why didn't OJ count as a nickname for Orenthal James? And suddenly the anything goes crowd turned into cut throat competitors. I sheepishly retreated my O and J back onto my wooden rack. (I think I would have been allowed to use OJ if it weren't for the fact that in using OJ I was also able to make another word in another direction that would have granted me about 30 odd points for the play. I think that was the real issue.)
The next controversial word came about when the most vocal critic of OJ spelled out 'AX.' I recalled the last game of Scrabble that I had played (again with people who did not own a dictionary) and I had spelled AX only to be shot down because I was told AX had an e at the end. (And damnit I should have checked the spelling after that last game but I hadn't.) So undoubtedly to bust the chops of my OJ nemesis, I recalled that memory and claimed, "Ax ends with an e." She correctly claimed it could be spelled either way like blonde and blond and I honestly suspected she was right and I let it go. But she did not like being challenged and refused to use the word ax because she didn't want controversy and she spelled another word.
But the claws came out and for the rest of the game insults were disguised as jokes. When the rest of us took longer than 10 seconds to spell a word she and her husband hummed the theme music for final Jeopardy which precluded us being able to concentrate. We looked at each other and realized that all we could do was just ignore the behavior and do what we could to end the game as quickly as possible.
Our friend won, but disappeared immediately thereafter. We thought it odd but said our goodnights to her husband and went on our merry way.
The next morning our friend posted a full dictionary page of the word AX and its nine dictionary entries onto each of our facebook profiles. Wow.
My Southern California, hip and trendy, easy going friend is just as uptight as my own east coast self. Who woulda thunk it?
Here's what I've learned: 1) Always play Scrabble following the game rules without exception, and 2) always use a dictionary!
I don't mean an online game. I mean a real, sit down with the board and people, game.
The last game I played was about two weeks ago while visiting west coast friends and it seemed harmless enough. "Yes, sure, why not?" I said. There were four of us.
I should have known I was headed for trouble when one of my friends started off by saying that she likes to modify the rules to allow the use of proper nouns. We all agreed since it seemed like a harmless change.
I suggested we get the dictionary. How do you play Scrabble (check challenges, etc) without a dictionary? Our friends didn't own a dictionary but decided that between the four of us we could determine a word's fair play. Sounded like trouble, but what the heck, I agreed to play what I perceived to be a casual, fun, anything goes game of Scrabble.
What was I thinking?
Suddenly the one rule change had sub rules. (OJ could not be used as a proper name since 'everyone knows it really stands for orange juice' or at the very most Orenthal James which still makes it an abbreviation and abbreviations aren't allowed) "Seriously?" I asked. I defended my position by saying no one would argue Tony wasn't a proper name even though it was a nickname for Anthony, so why didn't OJ count as a nickname for Orenthal James? And suddenly the anything goes crowd turned into cut throat competitors. I sheepishly retreated my O and J back onto my wooden rack. (I think I would have been allowed to use OJ if it weren't for the fact that in using OJ I was also able to make another word in another direction that would have granted me about 30 odd points for the play. I think that was the real issue.)
The next controversial word came about when the most vocal critic of OJ spelled out 'AX.' I recalled the last game of Scrabble that I had played (again with people who did not own a dictionary) and I had spelled AX only to be shot down because I was told AX had an e at the end. (And damnit I should have checked the spelling after that last game but I hadn't.) So undoubtedly to bust the chops of my OJ nemesis, I recalled that memory and claimed, "Ax ends with an e." She correctly claimed it could be spelled either way like blonde and blond and I honestly suspected she was right and I let it go. But she did not like being challenged and refused to use the word ax because she didn't want controversy and she spelled another word.
But the claws came out and for the rest of the game insults were disguised as jokes. When the rest of us took longer than 10 seconds to spell a word she and her husband hummed the theme music for final Jeopardy which precluded us being able to concentrate. We looked at each other and realized that all we could do was just ignore the behavior and do what we could to end the game as quickly as possible.
Our friend won, but disappeared immediately thereafter. We thought it odd but said our goodnights to her husband and went on our merry way.
The next morning our friend posted a full dictionary page of the word AX and its nine dictionary entries onto each of our facebook profiles. Wow.
My Southern California, hip and trendy, easy going friend is just as uptight as my own east coast self. Who woulda thunk it?
Here's what I've learned: 1) Always play Scrabble following the game rules without exception, and 2) always use a dictionary!
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