An Era Closes

I recently played the last game of cards with a neighborhood men's group that has been playing together for upwards of 15 years. We play 500, we play monthly, we draw for partners, we're fairly loud ( my wife comments on the noise when we're on the screened in porch two houses away and she is indoors ) and we're relentless. Don is moving to Arizona and, though he and his wife will be back for summers, and we'll likely play again, it won't be the same

Arizona Bound Don, friend and neighbor, and sometime card knave, gritting our teeth we’d play Willie and Dave. Over many a year, we'd play as we ought er, I would drink a beer, then we’d all gulp water. “Inkle hearts.” “Seven no.” “Double,” with a frown. “At least we have honor,” when bidders went down. Set to move away, you'll miss all this fun. Dare I say it now? “Don, use your option!”* * Option: a novel rule in our game allowing each player, once per evening, under strict circumstances, to change his bid after picking up the middle. Both Don and I eventually hated this rule.

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