Bingo

At long last I awarded prizes for March Madness at the All Staff meeting. Recap of my remarks: I expressed my affection for Maureen with gentle ribbing, made veiled reference to erotic pasta, emphasized just how bad Nathalie and Alex’s picks must have been to come in last (they got basketball-shaped pasta for their troubles), celebrated Kelly’s well-deserved win (she took home a gift certificate to Ayza in addition to pasta), and honored Kurt, whose meteoric rise from the bottom of the barrel to second place truly was the Cinderella story of our times. His trophy (the whole WORLD) is displayed prominently at his desk. March felt like a more innocent time perhaps, and circa 5 pm on Tuesday at the staff meeting, my heart felt full.

Two Summer Anthems for the price of one: The Jackson 5: I want you back = what a bassline! Sometimes when I am tired and running, I just listen to this on repeat and can run a million billion miles. Hoping for a pleasant memorial day? Try Chad and Jeremy’s Summer Song. It’s just lovely. Also? Chad and Jeremy are having, in 2008, their busiest year since 1968. This come-back tour to lesser venues in lesser towns/myspace page may seem like a misguided attempt to return to relevance (which contemporaries might claim they never had in the first place) but they are actually still quite charming and their songs are really good and well-executed. You kids today could take a lesson.

You may not know this about me – like most of you, I have many hidden talents – and I don’t like to brag, but I am a really good caller at Bingo Night. I lead a team of volunteers at a senior home every other week, and when I stand there, spinning the bingo ball cage, picking out the next number, waiting for the players to lean forward ever so slightly in anticipation, projecting my voice and eliciting cheers in some and muttering in others, I feel gifted. Sometimes we make jokes: a call of B4 should be followed by “and after!”, I16 always makes me want to hum Sam Cooke’s tune “Only Sixteen” (gross!), and I can’t help but babble about the bingo numbers that are prime. But did you know that British people have codified jokes about the bingo numbers in a totally inscrutable way? Legs eleven! Read them here. Yes, I’m 90 years old.

Life’s great moments are small ones, usually. Have an awes long weekend!