Look at that beautiful, blue sky:
That was this afternoon, this beautiful, clear, cool afternoon. Not a cloud in the sky, high of 55. Have we discussed how this is March?
Tonight I got a call from Stephen, at around 8:30. He was in town and invited me to his parents’ place to shoot a little pool. So we retired to the basement, my old college friend and his wife, whom I also know from college, and his father. Brooke and Stephen’s two kids were asleep upstairs. We were down among personalized photos of Reagan and antique gas station epherma and Rotary Club paraphernalia and played doubles. Brooke and Stephen won the first game. His dad and I won the next two. We played a game of cutthroat and I won that, too.
But this was the shot of the night. Mr. W. dropped the two in the corner pocket without the 13 even noticing.
Always such a reserved gentleman, it seems he was something of a pool shark in his younger days. You’d never expect it to know him.
As we played Stephen regaled us with impersonations and tales of his in-laws. Before we played he told one of those “Well, I’m old enough now, dad, you can’t do anything about this” story. Stephen is a lawyer, so he used the old statute of limitations line, which made it sound so important, particularly opposite the silly story he told. It involved mud and a lot of walking, like more than a few stories of youth in the South.
So I look at us. I think of all of our other friends, some who came up in conversation tonight and others who didn’t. How did we all get here, sitting over a pesky three ball I can’t knock down, in a life grand as all this?
Life gives you interesting questions on a Thursday night, doesn’t it?
