DUMB! DUMB!

Following the disappointment of the U. S. finishes in the Beijing World Bridge Championships (especially in the Opens) plus the still-unsolved mystery of the Mental Telepathy issue in my previous blog, I thought we needed an uplifting change of pace — and hopefully this true story is the solution.

Being an inveterate saver is not all bad. Sifting through the ruins of my storage room has enabled me to recall countless bridge memories that have been stashed away for what seems like an eternity. In the weeks to come I will be sharing some of them with you, almost all of which occurred during my thirty-nine year marriage to the late Norman Kay. Most involved the legendary icons of the game – but I beg to make an exception here – at the risk of appearing stupid!

Part of being a full-fledged Philadelphian included summer weekend trips to Atlantic City.  The famed Boardwalk was a hangout for most single people and drew swarms of young men and women from adjoining states. On one of these outings my girlfriend Marleen and I had just reached the wooden planks when torrents of rain descended upon us. We headed for the nearest port – which happened to be The Ritz Hotel. It must have been fate – as we spotted a sign: Duplicate Bridge. We had taken many lessons at The Junto Night School in Philly and were delighted to find a dry haven — although we were unfamiliar with the word “Duplicate.” Venturing into the room, we meekly asked the man in charge if we could play. Little did we know what it involved because our only exposure was to ‘kitchen bridge’ with novice players of our own caliber who were fortified with bridge basics. Reflecting upon the experience, it was nothing like a National, Regional or Sectional and they didn’t have on line bridge in those days.   It was merely a chance to get our feet wet.  The gentleman asked us for one dollar each. As you will see, we had no idea just how far a buck would go in those days.

In which bridge publication the following story appeared, I am not sure. It was written by Bert Wilson, a popular Philadelphia columnist who retired to Clearwater, FL. The column was entitled The Funniest Thing and the subtitle was “Easy Money.” If you promise not to laugh, I will quote his version:

Two young women came into my duplicate club on Atlantic City’s Boardwalk on Saturday night in 1957. They asked about “this duplicate bridge thing” and were told the card fee was $1.

After the first round, one of them came up to me with two more dollars. “What’s this for?” I asked. “Isn’t it a dollar a table?” I assured her it wasn’t and gave her money back.

The young woman took the game seriously and met her husband through duplicate.  I was invited to the wedding. Their names: Judy and Norman Kay.