The freeways were cluttered and cars were flying past me and old betsy. We were on our to way to Bogus Bob's house for another card game and some old fashioned jammin'.
Paddy and Big Pumba were going to be there, along with their dad, pa-paw. Growing up, we never used pa-paw and me-maw, so some of you may be confused. Kinda like ant and auntie. Auntie seems to be the preferred choice these days, but back in my daze, we used the term Ant for our parents' brothers and sisters.
Soon we made it to Bogie's. I hadn't seen him since Christmas. Bogie had been struggling with male pattern baldness for years, just like his dad, "Sweet Lucy," but now he wasn't struggling-he had met the law and the law won.
Bogus had no hairs-not even one-on top of his head. He had the Bozo look going on the sides, but close to the ears, as if he had recently been to the barber. Since I still have a good bit of hair, does the barber give a follicle- challenged customer a discount?
I was late and the last to arrive. Big Pumba's kids were there. Two from his first wife and two from his second. Big Pumba always liked playing sports: softball, soccer, football, but his first love is basketball. He's still playing softball: "I can still hit, but I can't run a lick," he told me. So two knee replacements loom on the horizon.
The music was loud. Paddy on lead guitar, Big Pumba's kids manned the others. John on drums, Joshua on rhythm, James on bass, and John on drums. Seems he has a thing for the J letter.
"Sing us a song, Uncle v.c." someone said.
I sauntered up to the mike and attempted < key word, here > to sing "Southern Man" by Neil Young.
When I got to the Lillie Bell part my voice was breaking and cracklin' more so than the oat bran in my cereal bowl. So next I tried "Take It Easy" by the Beagles, er, Eagles. And, of course, my thoughts were of Bongo Bob's favorite song ending a Yahoo post.
After more rim shots and dazed and confused songs, we settled down to play some "Texas Hold "em" and "Guts," a game we learned to play at Truck U., that great institution of higher learning.
Bogus never went to college. His girl friend broke his heart many moons ago, and he said "ship ahoy" and joined the Navy. He served in the Middle East and married his first wife, who hailed from Bahrain. A powder keg when he was there, Bogus privately worries that a WMD doesn't end up in the wrong hands.
Bogie has always liked to imbibe on alcoholic beverages, Seems he inherited the gene from his dad, mentioned earlier, the indomitable, "Sweet Lucy." His penchant for said activity always livened-up the festivities, but normally doomed him to go home a loser in the card game. Since last year, however, he hasn't had a drink. He's looking good and gained some weight, but the cessation of potent potables hasn't helped his hair loss dilemma.
It was a good time-a welcome break from work and H.W. It's always good to see my old friends. And the reflections during the drive home and how our lives had changed and would continue to change.
We loaded up the equipment and gave each other a hug. Until the next card game and jam. I told them farewell and adieu and got in old betsy for the long drive home.
"My friends from college they're all married now;
They have their houses and their lawns
Well, that's the way I've always heard it should be;
You want to marry me, we'll marry."
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