Michigan or Florida?

The golf course reunion was followed by a poker game back near Lake LeAnn. I’m the last original player from a group that started in 1978. We had seven guys back then. They lived on Lake LeAnn or Lake Somerset. At thirty-one, I was one of the youngest players. Maybe the youngest.

Over the years new players have come and gone. At least four of the original members have died but not while a part of the group. The current group has been playing for a dozen or more years. When we bought our condo, Ruth insisted that I drive down to the game every two weeks. When I’m in Michigan I do.

One of my David friends (I have several named David) was the last to drop out, but we still see or speak to each other from time to time. We call him Bammer, and he spent several winters in The Villages near Ruth and me.

When I head down now, I stay with another Dave or Craig and Judy. Craig’s dad, Ed, started playing with us when he was ninety. He’ll be a hundred and seven in November. He’s in an assisted living facility now and hasn’t played for about a year. He hopes to get back to the table. I hope he does too.

This is a group of really good friends. We don’t have to see each other all the time, but when we do, it’s like we’ve never been apart. We keep changing physically but not spiritually.

I spent the night with one of my David friends. He taught fifth grade for me when I went to Addison. His older brother, Dennis, was my fraternity brother at Western. A few years into my tenure in Addison, Dave became my assistant principal. We promoted him because he was everything I wasn’t. I was the idea guy. He was the detail guy. He was highly organized. While I had piles, he had files. We were a perfect match.

Dave’s promotion opened a teaching spot. We had several teachers that were laid off due to financial constraints. A second of the poker boys, Bruce, had a wife, Carole, who was first to be called back. During one of our poker games Bruce offered me $3,000 to get Carole called back. He may have had more than one drink that night. After her return I asked Bruce about the payment. It’s never come. At five-percent compounding interest, he owes me $22,075.25. I’ll never see it, but it’s fun to talk about. Bruce is the nicest man I know and he’s a great friend.

I met Cal in another poker group. He was a teacher in Hillsdale and his daughters were students of mine. He’s a former math teacher, attorney, auctioneer, union representative and farrier. He’s one of the smartest men I know and knows the odds of drawing a single card in a poker game. He tells us all the time.

Cal brought Greg to the game about twenty years ago. We nicknamed him The Kid because he’s thirty years our junior. In his mid-forties, he’s still The Kid and one of the better players at the table. I wrote a blog about him a couple of years ago. He was single when we met, but he’s married now, and his son is getting close to entering high school

Craig is another good friend. He and his wife, Judy, opened their home to me last year. I stayed with them several times after our poker games. I’d arrive early enough to drop off my clothes and have a Manhattan. He’s a connoisseur of bourbon and has an extensive collection.

We’ve played golf together for several years. We were equals at one time, but as my knees and shoulder have deteriorated, he’s better than me. He beats me on the links, but I get him at the poker table. More important than the games we play, he introduced us all to his dad, Ed, almost seventeen years ago.

Tom is the newest member of the current group. He became a regular about a dozen years ago. He’s a former teacher and high school principal. He worked for my son, David, when he was Superintendent of Michigan Center. Tom was also a high school wrestling coach and was inducted into the Michigan Hall of Fame a couple of years ago for his wrestling achievements.

As last week’s game was drawing to a close, I asked Dave what we were having for breakfast. He didn’t answer right away so I made a tongue in cheek request for raspberry stuffed French toast. It became a discussion point at the table. I’m not sure if any of the guys have eaten such a delicacy. In any case, it was meant as a joke. The next morning, Dave did indeed make French toast with raspberries. He didn’t stuff the toast, but it was delicious just the same.

When I stay with Dave we talk about our new lives. He lost his wife, Cindy, to cancer about seventeen years ago. He waited a dozen years to open himself to another relationship. He met Sue online and they’ve been a couple for about five years. He’s very happy and I’m happy for him.

On my way back north, I stopped to see Ed. He’s slowed a bit, but we had a nice visit. He’s adjusting to his new digs, and he’s made several new friends. That’s a good thing.

While I was visiting Ed, I received a call from Bammer. He left a voicemail message for me. He told me that he received “my call” but couldn’t understand the message I’d left. It was “garbled”. He followed that with “Give me a call when you’re available.” The thing is I never called him so I couldn’t leave a message. I’m very sure he got one, but I didn’t make it. I think it’s another sign that Ruth is still involved in all of our lives. Nothing else seems logical.

The series of events that unfolded last week have caused me to rethink the idea of selling my Michigan condo. I don’t need to sell, and I have more to come back for than I realized. My Tullymore friends are expanding, my college and teaching friends are still around, and the Lake LeAnn guys would miss my smiling face if I gave up on them.

My son, David, and his family are here. My two sisters live in Michigan, so I still have family nearby. And then there’s Ruth’s proclamation she prefers Michigan to Florida. So, I’m probably staying put for now.

We’ll see.