Life Is Only Seven Points

Packing...ugh! 'Nuff Said!

I acted in a one act play in high school entitled "Life" Is Only Seven Points by David Rush. A synopsis pulled from

Every Sunday, 38-year-old Jerry has dinner with his parents, playing Scrabble with his lively mother as his aging father declines into senility. This night, the game triggers memories and, as his mother wins and becomes increasingly cheerful, Jerry finds himself depressed by his failed marriage and his inability to elicit honest answers from his mother. As the game goes on—in a sometimes funny, suddenly painful, and very moving encounter—Jerry forces her to help him face some deeply hidden and tragic truths about his relationship with his father. Poignant and affecting, this is a crisply written, witty mix of comedy and tragedy in the finest tradition of the theatre.

I played the role of the father who was slipping into senility, while watching 60 Minutes. Good times!

So, why do I mention this? Because, my screen name elsewhere is the title of the play. My favorite question to field is some form of:

-So life is only 7 points, huh? Yes, it is.
-How many points is death worth? It is worth 9.

The play itself is very well written and hits on the topic of life and how sometimes we take it a bit too seriously. While there exists a lot of bullpooh in our daily lives, life itself is good. Life is also fragile and we should take each day and live it out to the best of our abilities, because we don't know exactly when we won't have the luxury of one more breath.

So that's the end of my post, and I do like to end the post with a kind of "Oh" feeling, and I think I've done that quite well.


*editted to add a title.


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