Three for the Road. (The one in then middle looks crazy!) Chuck Pace © 2007
Last night I felt the pull. I had been away for so long I had to get back, if only for a few minutes. Monday I did not go to the Chatterbox. I got calls, and text messages and queries due to my absence. I missed an opportunity to teach and inform. I let down my constituents. So last night I thought I'd canvas the old stomping ground (I must have stomped in there once or twice) and I broke down and waived my abstinence from the box. The crow was sparse indeed, but hearty. There was no mens' club per se, no no Mel, or Mike or Rich. There was no ACT crowd, no musician friends, or Kay and her crowd. But there was Bill Brooks, and Jack and Joan, and there was also Mark Smith, Travis D. and David and as always the lovely and talented Deanne playing taps, and pumps and corkscrews to a wonderful industrious tune. Travis was there with a person I met once, I had to stop in my tracks, study her face for a minute (flip through my mental file-o facts, and astound the assembled three), and proclaim her to be Sarah Beanblossum, who worked with (and now without) Travis at YAIndy. The crowd oohed and ahhed as though I were The Illusionist and had produced a pair of blackbirds from my gloves. She grew pensive for a whit, and said oh you are the guy with the web site. I really need to go check it out I guess. I thought my work here is done.
I sated a small thirst with two beers, and asked David if he were attending the evenings competition of ball and basket action whilst the Celtics were in town for more than just a boree. He said, " 'deed we are," gesturing to Mark and Travis as his coconspirators to the evenings sport and entertainment. I then offered to return Travis' kind favor of a few weeks ago and cart them to the arena in my fine if filthy fliver of Bavarian lineage, and spare them the cost of commercial comportment. They heartily agreed and I wisked them to Chesapeake St. before continuing home to my fine and festive lassies at me own humble abode. And that, your honor is how I came to tie Travis n a fair game of the Fare Game!
Chuck Pace © 2007
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