" And Bingo Was His Name"

Writing a blog is good therapy for an aging senior like me. I also discovered that playing Bingo with my wife at our community clubhouse can be similarly stimulating.

Like everything else there have been several alterations to the game of Bingo since I last played. It seems they have given up on putting the kernels of corn on the squares and abandoned the use of those little plastic chips too. Nowadays, in order to play efficiently you need a dauber about the size of a Hebrew salami. Fortunately this old Irishman found one with green ink.

My introduction to Bingo was the annual Fireman's Fair in my hometown of Forest Hills, Penna. I didn't play much there but mostly labored as my Mom's good luck charm., standing erect behind her until she won her first Bingo game. As you can see, Mom was Irish too.

As a kid I thought Bingo was really called "Aw, s--t!, as that's what I heard at the end of every game. I was sure many of these Forest Hills women of the late 40's & early 50's were former resistance fighters in Poland and Denmark during WW II.

Last week I discovered the rules for Bingo, had changed more than "Strip Canasta". There are more patterns and games of Bingo than this mind can handle. There are diamonds, 4 corners, , diagonals, full card immersion, corner squares, secret numbers, and "quickies".

The latter held my interest until I discovered this meant the Bingo caller rapidly shouts out the numbers without furnishing you with the corresponding 5 letters.

I now realized I had lost any command of the Bingo language acquired in my youth and was clearly a member of the remedial Bingo class in my 55 and over community.

At one point we were informed by a very nice blue haired lady, who I refer to as the Bingo Gatekeeper, that the next game to be played required the use of the secret number "4".

We're all getting older and some of us don't hear well so we can easily become confused. Therefore, I listened carefully as the gatekeeper patiently explained to us this meant that any card space ending in the number "4" was a "freebie", and need not be recorded.

That was fairly easy for me. It reminded me of a twist on a popular beer drinking game at Pittsburgh weddings in the 60's. However, it evoked several acts of verbal desperation by some of the hearing impaired and fellow remedial class members with whom I empathized.

The gatekeeper was not as forgiving. After fielding several questions her previously patient gaze had turned into a stare that would have melted Tupperware. "Does that include "34"?", one woman in the back boldly inquired. The gatekeeper replied , "That would be it, dear", and appeared to be honing her stare, apparently fearing she would not reunite with her spouse until 2010.

Seemingly immune to the increasing change in the gatekeepers attitude, as well as the fading hour, the woman continued with her verbal assault, "Would that be number "54" as well?"

The gatekeeper's eyes were now dissolving the cover of the Naugahyde chair in the far corner of the room. "YOU BET-CHA!", she replied in a tone suggesting she was a fraction of a second from loudly requesting a "pricecheck".

"I have a 74. Can I include that too?", the player bravely continued. The gatekeepers' orbs were now glowing and the separation in the floor tiles beneath the woman's folding chair was widening.

"FOUR, FOUR, FOUR! Any number ending in a 4."she screamed out of desperation. She then chugalugged her Gatorade before slumping into her own chair, upon which she had previously been standing.

Noting that I had the number "44" I wisely hesitated to inquire if that meant I got two free squares

Instead, crouched like Quasimodo, I resumed my preassigned duty of daubing each one of my squares ending in 4 as well as the number "62", which was awarded to us posthumously.

I was totally confused. When we entered I had been furnished two 4 card sheets . This was far more than the three cards with which my mom entrusted me as a child. This was the "big time."

My ignorance proved to be a disaster in the quickie game or when we had to try to fill up all our squares with dauber dye. I hit the back of my wife's left hand and wrist several times during the evening. I also ruined her faux Gucci watchband, and knocked over her Creme Soda and my Dr. Pepper.

Wait till they see all those green spots on the table under my paper thin cards.

I don't think we'll be invited back.