There was a headline to an article a few months ago that said that Solitaire was the most popular computer game ever. I wasn’t surprised at the headline, since I think everyone has had a go at it sometime. Employers hate it, understandably. I wouldn’t want to have to pay for such unproductive time, either.

But sometimes, especially in the late evenings, I like to play a few hands to unwind and de-stress. Recently, while playing, it occurred to me that there were some life lessons to learn.

The first lesson: sometimes you lose. I lose more hands than I win. In fact, I can play a perfect game and still lose. I don’t always have to lose because I make a mistake, but I don’t necessarily win just because I made no mistakes. Playing perfectly and flawlessly is not congruent with winning.

The second lesson: sometimes there is nothing to do but start over. No matter how strongly you wish it, there are times that you can’t win and you just need to begin anew. Whining doesn't help.

Lately, I have been mulling over the political correctness of diversity while playing solitaire. The good thing about playing solitaire on the computer, as opposed to the olden days when these processes had to be performed manually, is that there is no “deck of fifty-one” of Statler Brothers’ fame. Everyone who has ever played solitaire knows that you need all the cards in order to win. This alone is a beautiful example of diversity at work. There are situations that require a black six or a red four and, in those circumstances, no matter how much someone may love the Jack of Clubs, the Jack just won’t do.

That’s when I realized what was wrong with the public discourse on diversity in America today. The end game doesn’t really seem to be about finding the right place for each card and having each one play its role. It’s really more like a reverse discrimination, especially against whites, Republicans, males, Christians and Conservatives, and ever so especially if all these things come together. If I need a black nine, but I turn over a red seven, am I prejudiced against all red cards if I fail to play that card anyway? If I say I want a red ten, and then two of them turn up back to back, does that mean I didn’t want the red ten in the first place if I can’t play both? If I turn over the Queen of Diamonds and there is nowhere I can play that card in the game at the moment, does this mean that I don’t like women? Does this mean that I never wanted the Queen of Diamonds and never will?

Why does the national discussion start off talking about “strong women” only to find out that this defense only applies to females of the Democrat persuasion? (Or was that Democrats of the female persuasion?) If I say “not this black man at this time for this particular job,” does that make me a hate-mongering reactionary oppressor? And always will be?

I need all fifty-two cards to win a game of solitaire. But I don’t win every game, even though I play with all fifty-two cards. It depends on the order and the placement. Clearly there is something racist or bigoted or something about these rules. In truth, we just need to rethink the national discussion, but what’s the likelihood of that?