Open Letter: Road Scholar to Rhodes Scholar

Because I've been largely immobilized since returning from Spain in late March, day-to-day routines - by necessity - have since shifted. Included in that shift has been an insane competition with Rhodes Scholar and ex-President Bill Clinton. First, a little background.  

Some time back, my wife heard or read somewhere that Clinton gets to genius every time he plays Spelling Bee.  Soon after, she and I occasionally added Spelling Bee to our post-dinner ritual, i.e., the joint completion of Wordle, Strands, Connections and other games that can often be finished in a reasonable amount of time. On the nights we were foolish or ambitious enough to add Spelling Bee, I would joke that she was "gen" and I was "ius" whenever the two of us managed to get to Clinton's purported "every time" genius level. Fast forward now to late March and my lingering immobility.

With lots of time to myself - including a ten-day stretch when my wife was at her sister's - little out-of-the-house activity, an inability to sit for long stretches to play guitar, and interrupted sleep patterns, reading and writing dominated my waking hours for the first several days after our return from Spain. Then somewhere around the first week of April, my over-the-top competitive instinct combined with Clinton's reputation as a Spelling Bee genius kicked in. Word and/or game nerds who have spent frustrating hours with Spelling Bee might be able to predict how that time-sucking vortex - disguised as a harmless pastime - has since obsessed me. For those wise enough to have avoided ever being infuriated by Spelling Bee, skip the next paragraph, my open letter to Mr. Genius.

Dear Mr. President: Before uncovering both of today's pangrams - which you had to do to earn your everyday genius badge - did you even know "vincible" was a word? Did you use "hints" today? Do you ever use hints? Does Hillary ever assist you when playing Spelling Bee? How often? If she does, do you count those days when you reach genius with her help as your own or ... do you not count them at all or ... do you give her the gen or the ius? Last question Mr. Genius: On average, how many hours of serious torture does it take before you reach genius?

The last time I can recall being as seriously derailed by words as I've now been for a few weeks was in September 2011, soon after the notorious bagel store affair. Back then, following my first and only lifetime arrest, anagrams and palindromes tromped through my sleepless brain for weeks. See the link at the bottom for a blog post published soon after the impulsive act that ended up costing me over $4000.00 that year and helped thrust me into word misery for weeks. This current battle between obscure blogger and genius ex-President is thankfully unconnected to any rash act but has been no less consuming. This time it's my temporary homebound condition that has me endlessly shuffling seven letters in varying combinations for hours at a time until reaching that puerile but satisfying "I got genius" message. Alas, I suspect I'm spending more hours getting there than the genius who once occupied the White House. 

Reflections from the Bell Curve: Back (Mostly) From Anagram Land