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I had stayed away from the short stories of W. Somerset Maugham for too long, and had started to read his Three Fat Women of Antibes, when my mind clicked at the mention, as part of the author's description of the women, of bridge.
You know, the card game.
Bridge was a big thing, once. Playing was a sort of social talent, and playing well made one a sought-after guest. (I might add it made your partner one too, as this four-handed game is played by two teams of two players.)
I have some old photos of my mom playing bridge, presumably taken by my dad, who doubtless was her partner. Like some poker tables I've seen in recent years, the bridge table at which my mom was sitting was also home to several glasses (highball glasses?) and ashtrays.
I played bridge for a few months while in college, in the evenings when folks would gravitate to the dorm office for coffee, tea, and various forms of junk food. I don't know if I would have gotten any good at the game had I stuck with it; as it turned out I was, I think, a mediocre-to-fair player.
Back about 10 years ago, if memory serves, I had reason to literally run through the dining room at the local Fuddrucker's restaurant that sits across NASA Road 1 from the Johnson Space Center. My memory fails as to why I did so; a logical explanation is that I was looking for someone. What I encountered however, was the curious phenomenon of a duplicate bridge tournament.
Duplicate bridge, if I understand the concept, involves distributing identical hands of cards to people at multiple tables, with the idea being that after a sufficient number of such rounds, the team that performs the best—playing hands that, basically, everyone else had to play, too—will walks away with first prize.
I recall that what struck me most, as I moved, among the tables, was the advanced senior status of pretty much all the participants.
I'm curious. Do you play bridge?
You know, the card game.
Bridge was a big thing, once. Playing was a sort of social talent, and playing well made one a sought-after guest. (I might add it made your partner one too, as this four-handed game is played by two teams of two players.)
I have some old photos of my mom playing bridge, presumably taken by my dad, who doubtless was her partner. Like some poker tables I've seen in recent years, the bridge table at which my mom was sitting was also home to several glasses (highball glasses?) and ashtrays.
I played bridge for a few months while in college, in the evenings when folks would gravitate to the dorm office for coffee, tea, and various forms of junk food. I don't know if I would have gotten any good at the game had I stuck with it; as it turned out I was, I think, a mediocre-to-fair player.
Back about 10 years ago, if memory serves, I had reason to literally run through the dining room at the local Fuddrucker's restaurant that sits across NASA Road 1 from the Johnson Space Center. My memory fails as to why I did so; a logical explanation is that I was looking for someone. What I encountered however, was the curious phenomenon of a duplicate bridge tournament.
Duplicate bridge, if I understand the concept, involves distributing identical hands of cards to people at multiple tables, with the idea being that after a sufficient number of such rounds, the team that performs the best—playing hands that, basically, everyone else had to play, too—will walks away with first prize.
I recall that what struck me most, as I moved, among the tables, was the advanced senior status of pretty much all the participants.
I'm curious. Do you play bridge?
