I just spent three days in a land locked town, visiting my twenty year old granddaughter. This morning we ventured into one of the local hang outs, THE POOL HALL. It was early, and we had the place to ourselves. All I had to do was open the door and euphoric recall, called my name. Every cell in my body was transformed.
This was the third time in two and half decades, that I have gone into such an establishment. The man behind the counter asked, “Is this your first time in a pool hall?” And like a dummy, I said, “OH, no…..” Now back in the day, I would have feigned a time or two at attempting to play.
Growing up, we had a Brunswick Billiard table in our garage. I played night and day, for years. My brother, who was my unaware guide in life, is a good player. I can remember being his partner, once or twice. It was as if God had asked me to come and sit at his right hand.
Looking back, I can’t believe I spent that much time on a game. Such is youth.
It’s four in the morning and my mind is filled with memories.
I would like for my head, to be able, to easily unhinge, and shake it out.
The days that I get to spend with my granddaughter are special to me. Her life is different than mine was. The same as her mother, who is approaching forty. We are twenty, forty and sixty, more or less.
I asked her if she thought that twenty years was a long time. Her answer was yes.
Her viewpoint and mine are forty years apart.
A chasm of time.
Writing this post, has been the wringing that my brain needed. But, on the last squeeze, a butterfly flew out.
Uh oh, I’m at the Mono Congo.