Tom Hanks on the year of the pandemic: never play patience again

During a time of blockages, quarantines and social detachment, patience seemed like a harmless undertaking, a balm for the mind and hands, an escape valve that meant having something do it. The deck was right there on the table and, without thinking, my hands would take that 52 file to riff, shuffle and cut. A game would be dealt – for me, for myself – on a line of seven cards with a growing stack of cards face down. The cards in my hand were revealed in three, and the black cards were played in the red ones and so on, and an hour or so would pass. I would play more patience at the end of the day or the next morning.

I never cheated to win; winning was not the point. Getting close was good enough, and there was always another game, so why not solve it? I can win this time. And what else was there to do?

In fact, there was a lot to do! Damn it! There was a sink to clean and a dishwasher to empty. Clothes to sort. Rice to put in the pan with the timer set for breakfast. Letters that I could have written and the typewriter and stationery to do that. The books I put in a suitcase were placed in a reading pile, unread, although I was, sort of always reading one of them. There were solo exercises and yoga stretches to do. I have children to talk to when they are available. I have business partners to contact. I have hilarious and interesting friends. I have scenes to study and work to prepare. I have stories in my head – and I tell stories to live – that could have been sketched, written down, sketched. I could have watched “Chernobyl” on HBO again!

I started doing a lot of these things. I fulfilled most of my responsibilities and explored some creative recesses inside my stubborn head. But those hands of patience were accumulated minutes wasted in the hope that a red six would emerge or a king would be turned over so that I could fill an empty column. What no Do I do it instead?

Covid-19 taught us that life and health are precarious – that the smallest piece of our physical world, like a virus, can steal our vitality, community, family and purpose, whether we have fallen ill or not. This pandemic affected all of us, costing very, very expensive. Our time is limited and finite. Solitaire squanders what is precious. Never play solitaire again.

But cribbage? With my son, who can I rarely defeat? Any time!

-Mr. Hanks is an actor, screenwriter, producer and director. He is the author of “Unusual type: some stories”.