Time For Some Fun

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Remember when you were young? There was always something to do for fun. I truly recall bouncing a ball off the garage at my parents home to see how many I could catch it in a row to set my all-time record.

Then there were the days of playing basketball, alone in the yard, being every single player from both the Philadelphia 76ers and the Portland Trail Blazers when they met in the NBA Finals. (It was 1977, I believe).If I was Maurice Lucas I shot from mid-range. If I was Mo Cheeks it was firing them up from downtown.

I played a lot of ball on my own before my brothers joined in and turned it into the slug fest it became.

As I grew older, of course, the avenues for fun changed. We used to camp out a lot. We'd walk the railroad tracks drinking beer. Then we figured out that girls were kind of cool.

Between the beer and trying to get the girls the very definition of fun really changed. I didn't 'get' many.

Through the adult years there was a lot of fun to be had in the darkness on the edge of town.

Fast-forward to now.

I haven't drank much. I can't recover. I've been on pain meds and muscle relaxers. I need to be sharp as the weeks drag on.

I still write for fun.

I still read for fun.

Watching sports is still entertaining. Golfing looks like a long-shot right now.

Shooting hoops? Forget it!

So what to do for just a few hours of fun?

On Sunday I went to Bingo.

Yep...there were a lot of old people there. I didn't win. My sister, my mother, my brother-in-law all won. It was more fun for them.

You know what the funnest part was?

When an old man stood up and shouted out because the lady who just won the $300 game had spilled ink all over her boards and was granted new boards AFTER THE TIME TO GET NEW BOARDS HAD PASSED!!!

"I'M CALLING THE PRIEST!" He shouted. "THAT LADY SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ALLOWED TO BUY BOARDS AFTER THE TIME EXPIRED!!! YOU'RE ALL A BUNCH OF CROOKS!!!!"

He was booed back to his seat. The woman calling balls was shaken, but she put him in his place. He sat down angrily and I could see him still chirping to his wife who was nodding in agreement.

It was a freaking blast!

My sister and I went back and forth. My mother joined in. Then my sister said something that I was thinking.

"That's going to be you in a few years."

She's right.

It is!

I'm almost there already.

I'm a seventy-two year-old 47-year-old.

"Bunch of crooks!"

It's been a long-ass time since I was shooting hoops alone following the 1977 season.

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