The headline for USA Today's story on Michelle's record-making ninth victory at Nationals was, "Same Old Story." Cute, isn't it? It seems to say that consistent excellence isn't news, it's just the status quo. I'm sure all of us would gladly trade the novelty of erstwhile failure for being predictably fabulous. As an armchair athlete, I'm bewildered that Michelle can still captivate me the same way she did 10 years ago.
Bingo tonight was so damn fun. I'm sure we (or just I) annoyed the geriatrics who consider Bingo their kingdom. One cantankerous old bag hissed, "Just what is so funny over there?" Bingo is serious, serious shit. Players are intense, from their good-luck multi-colored daubers to their elaborate dauber-caddies, from the total silence while numbers are solemnly called, to the "comfort breaks" where octogenarians get smokes and caffeine between Bingo rounds. The initial rounds were stressful for me -- so many numbers swirling around, chasing me like a bad Fantasia dream sequence. Trying to keep up as my friends snickered when I explained that I might be dyslexic. And the other patrons probably peering oddly at our personalized headgear -- Jose's vato bandana, my Pucci scarf, Peter's and Vicky's Disney hats. Proof that you don't have to be as old as the hills to enjoy Bingo.
I want to be as skinny as Terri on "Three's Company". Well, also as blonde, white, and leggy, but that would be altogether another issue.
posted by Lucy Sloan @ 2:30 AM
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