Bug off.

 

The Wordle menace.

Once there was a guy named Wardle who wanted to do something nice for his gal, who loved word games. So he invented a little five-letter word guessing game he called Wordle. 

Well. 

Since then, as you probably know, that little game has become as addictive as crack and as big a fad as the Pet Rock. The brilliant little twist, allowing people to post results of the once-a-day puzzle without giving away the answer, makes it a natural for social media. Now people are playing it all over. Josh Wardle, the inventor, sold it to the New York Times, a former newspaper, for million. It's become hot enough to get lampooned by New Yorker cartoonists. 

But more than that, it's been ripped off mightily. Wardle's idea was not entirely original (see, for example, the TV game show Lingo, which originally aired in 1987), so while the Wordle name and design is trademarkable, the game is not. So now we have Facebook's own Daily Word Puzzle, which is available as a five-, six-, and seven-letter game. 

Then there's WordHurdle, which has five-, six-, and the even tougher four-letter variant. Four-letter words don't run through letters as fast, and there are many four-letter words, so that version is the trickiest. It can inspire you to say your own inappropriate four-letter words. The site also has a game called Phrazle, in which you have to guess an entire phrase.

For a real challenge, there is the evil Antiwordle. In that game you don't win; you just try to stay alive as long as you can by not guessing the right word. The problem is, when you use a letter that isn't in the word you can't use it again; when you use a letter that is in the word, you must use it again; and when you use a letter that's in the word in the right position, you must use it there again. My worst score so far is three; my best is fifteen.

And even that's just the beginning. Quordle has you solve four five-letter Wordle-type word puzzles at the same time using the same letters.

Octordle has you solve eight five-letter word puzzles at the same time using the same letters.

This just opens the door for Hexadecordle, you realize. 

I have only played it once, but there's also Lewdle for dirty words only. (They call their own repository of possible answers the "Dicktionary.")

Words not your bag? Well, there's Nerdle for math kids, or Globle and Worldle for geography fans. By now there's probably Nukedle for atomic weights and Spacedle for constellations and Xdle for algebra and Garble for gibberish. I can't keep up with them all. 

Where will it all end? It'll fade at some point, when the smart kiddies who made Wordle a hit go on to something else. Management at the Times will panic, and in trying to "improve" Wordle will ruin it, just as they did with their newspaper. And then we'll go on to some other damn thing, I guess. 

Fredcoin: It's Catchy!

Yes, friends, I have an exciting message for all of you investors or soon-to-be investors in the world's greatest cryptocurrency, Fredcoin! 

Perhaps you've put your hard-earned cash into Fredcoin and are wondering what I, Fred, am doing to bring in other investors. Perhaps you're on the fence about slinging your shekels into Fredcoin. Well, I'm happy to tell you that we have yet another advantage other cryptos don't. 

"Gee, Fred," I hear you say, "you already offer many of the features associated with other cryptocurrencies -- silly name, dubious enterprise, shady practices, potential catastrophic loss of investment, bizarre business plan -- what can you offer that the other guys don't?"

And I say: A jingle!

Yes, I have been in conference with Top Men in the "ad game" to bring out this exciting and totally original jingle to promote Fredcoin. Are you ready? Hit it, Doc!

Diamonds! Daisies! Snowflakes!
Fredcoin!
Chestnuts! Rainbows! Springtime!
Is Fredcoin!
It's tinsel on a tree!
It's everything a cryptocoin should be!

Sable! Popcorn! White wine!
Fredcoin!
Gingham! Bluebirds! Broadway!
Is Fredcoin!
It's Fred's alone but luckily for you
If you have some cash to blow
Some sacks of cash to blow
Then you'll buy Fredcoin too!
Fredcoin!

Isn't that awesome? Just send me some of that silly old U.S. currency and we'll get you its investment in Fredcoin right away. Also includes our terrific investors' kit to get you started, including an 8-track tape explaining my investment philosophy, a valuable Fredcoin matchbook, and the booklet "Why Fred? Why Now?" So write today and get wealthy the Fredcoin way!

Beep, honk.

It's been said about Illinois and Massachusetts and New York and I guess anywhere that winter is an issue: There are three seasons here -- fall, winter, and construction. 

Well, yesterday I had to make a drive to Pennsylvania, and on the way I found that here in New York, construction season is in high gear. And I haven't put up any of my decorations yet!

I tend to be a lot more patient with construction delays than other causes of traffic jams, partly because I sympathize with the guys working, but also because there's a feeling that things are ordered and not in horrible chaos. An accident with blood and heads rolling on the pavement -- well, that's going to take a while to clean up. A crime scene where a meth addict ran into a school bus while being chased by the troopers is going to require everyone and his brother on the scene for medical help and to make sure the evidence against the guilty idiot is preserved. A massive road failure like the collapse of an overpass? Might as well hunker down and take a nap, drivers.

But regularly scheduled constructions projects with flagmen and drivers doing a courteous zipper merge? May take a while, but we'll get there. We just hope we don't have to pee while we're waiting....

21 years of bad luck.

My wife got a new vanity, which means she has a much nicer place to apply her makeup and such. So the mirror over the old bureau was sentenced to the trash collectors.

It's one of those trifold mirrors, so you can be discouraged by your reflection in three different angles. 

You know the type.

I've mentioned before that our garbagemen will take anything -- anything but a solid-iron basketball hoop bracket, that is. It's the only thing I have seen them refuse. So I duly schlepped the mirror(s) out to the curb for pickup. 

But then the old paganistic superstitious side of me piped up and said, "They're gonna bust that mirror. Are you consigning them to seven years of bad luck? No, wait, twenty-one years? Or will it just redound to you, since you're the one making them do it?"  

So then I wondered how we got into the superstition about broken mirrors and the very specific sentence of seven years' bad luck for the crime. 

According to an article by the University of South Carolina's Barry Markovsky, Romans first made mirrors from polished metals and "believed their gods observed souls through these devices. To damage a mirror was considered so disrespectful that people thought it compelled the gods to rain bad luck on anyone so careless." As for the seven years, Romans "believed that the body renewed itself every seven years," so once your body had been replaced entirely from the time of the breakage, you would be a new person and unbound by your disrespectful act. 

Were the Romans nutty about this? Maybe they were just off by a few years. You may have heard the estimate that 98 percent of our body's atoms are replaced every year, and if you want to go down the quantum rabbit hole on this, be my guest. I ain't got time for that now. 

I can only say that I don't believe the Roman gods are watching me through the mirror, so I eschew the notion that I'm going to have bad luck until 2043 if those three mirrors break. In fact, I'd wager that if I do have bad luck until then, it’s just my own bad karma, that's all. 

New tree.

Mr. Philbin asks if I'm going to post a photo of the new tree. He hinted in a way that seemed to indicate I would be letting down the side if I didn't, having dragged you all through the traumatic loss my thundercloud plum through old age and black knot, then through the pulling out of the stump with chains and the final removal of the stump itself via root & stump picker, leaving a large hole that remained unfilled for weeks. 

I said Sir, you insult me. I left out many of these grim details when I told the story. But yes, I will invite readers to see the new red maple I put in the hole last week. And here it is. 

I know it's kind of underwhelming. Even the hole looks bad. 

The hole will be improved when I get some more dirt and some mulch this week. The tree, well -- time takes time. 

I have gotten some good plants from the big garden chains, but in this case I wanted to go to a local place with a good reputation. You know what that means: 💸💸💸 But it was worth it. The tree is more than six feet tall now, and was trained with an eight-foot-long bamboo stick, so it's straight as an arrow. Its leaves are fresh and stuck on pretty well. I won't say I got a bargain, but if it lasts as long as the other maples nearby, it could be amortized to a few bucks a year. Well worth it for the shade, the water and soil retention, and the beautification of the property. Holes in the ground usually don't lead to better property value, unless they're small and on the putting greens.

My wife winced when I told her that this hole project (har!) cost about $400, beginning to end, and it didn't make me want to jump up and cheer either. But, c'est la tree. Only God can make a tree, says Mr. Kilmer, but it was up to me to buy the thing. 

Moms!!!!!!!

Happy Mother's Day to all those moms out there! 

My mom was a pretty tough lady, God rest her soul, and indeed she had to be. There were many times we kids were threatened with death, severe violence, or abandonment at a Dickensian orphanage. In my opinion, a child that doesn't get that kind of thing from his mom (the threats, not the follow-through) is not trying hard enough. Or his mom is a perfect saint. 

I won't go into the usual blah blah blah about the history of Mother's Day and how the creator regretted her creation -- you can read that anywhere today. For that matter, many mothers regret their creations from time to time. Instead, I wanted to point out the other holidays or special commemorations that occur around Mother's Day. 

Now, it's no coincidence I'm sure that Lilac Sunday occurs on the second Sunday of May every year, just like Mother's Day. Or that Iris Day is celebrated on May 8, which is always close to Mother's Day if not smack on it. Well, maybe it is a coincidence, but with all the flowers bought for moms on this day, I doubt it. I may not smell a rat, but I can smell a flower.

National Hospital Week and National Women's Health Week both start today, which is an obvious tie-in to Mother's Day. For most of us, Mom is our #1 healthcare provider in our early years, and so we worry about her own health. There seems to be a connection. For that matter, May 8 is World Red Cross Day. And who gave you more bandages that Mom? 

Also, May 8 is National Outdoor Intercourse Day, and that's one way to become a mom. I wonder if anyone goes around claiming that he loves camping because Mom and Dad conceived him in Yosemite? Wouldn't surprise me. 

May 8 is also supposed to be National No Socks Day, a day when we parade around sans socks. This would seem to be another rite-of-spring type event, but wait! May 9 is Lost Sock Memorial Day! Now we start to see the connection. Moms do most of the laundry even in these enlightened times; No Socks Day may just be a means to cover the fact that so many socks, tragically, have been lost. And so it's no surprise that May 10 is Clean Up Your Room Day, when kids are supposed to get all the crap cleaned out and straightened up, and undoubtedly many lost socks will be found. Do it for Mom, children!

Whether on purpose or by happenstance, there are many reasons this week to think about our mothers and all the misery through which we put them. Get your mom something nice, if you can. And if, like mine, your mom has gone to her rest -- well, with rotten kids like us, she probably earned it, and God bless her.