Six weeks ago, my blog was titled: Columbus Took a Chance, which concerned my venture to my ‘hood, dive bar. Far outside my comfort zone, but I did it. Many of you encouraged me to go back again for Tuesday Trivia Night. Some of you were gracious enough to express your interest in forming a trivia team.
Finally, folks’ schedules matched, and this week we met as a team. Cheap food, cheap drinks, and no entry fee. Just fun. Our team was comprised of Brittany’s father, Ken; Brittany, and her husband, Matt; my eldest, Annie; and me. Three, thirty somethings and two, well-seasoned adults. Given the beach decor of the bar, Matt and Brittany chose our team name as “Wilson.” I thought they were talking about Wilson sports equipment, but no. It was some character from a beach movie. Clueless Sue.
Thankfully, the disc jockey noted we were new to the game and explained in detail the rules. Three prizes would be awarded: $25, $15, and $5 in bar money. Since there were only four teams that night, we felt confident we would win a prize. Matt commandeered our team, kept our score tally, and pronounced, “We’re in it to win it.” OK, I thought. Doubtful. Whatever.
Unlike the first time I sat on the sidelines during Trivia Night and knew all the answers, I was a veritable, non-contributor. Rap and Country Western music, current movies, and pro sports are not in my brain bank. I was stunned by Ken’s absolute brilliance when he knew the Dallas Cowboys were a $4.3 billion franchise. Annie shone in Country Music, Brittany and Matt knew every movie, TV show, and Rap artist. I just sat, rooted them on, and paid the tab. The least I could do for my overt lack of knowledge.
The disc jockey totaled the scores, “And first place goes to Team Wilson! Twenty-five dollars in bar money.” WTF?
Matt tossed the bar bucks at me. “See, Sue. I told you we’d win. Brittany and I’ll see you next Tuesday. Team Wilson will buy!”
This is NOT a dive bar. It has immaculate restrooms, nice patrons, and an attentive wait staff. Unfortunately, Annie can’t be there next week. So if you’re a Country Western music expert, take a chance and join Team Wilson! We’re buying….
A few weeks ago, I shared the story of Bob, my current cabana boy. Bob and his burly dog, Max moved into my guest house over a year ago. For a year, Max only ventured outside when my dogs were in the house. If they happened to see him, they’d chase him back through his doggy door. They’d gnash their teeth if they spied him through the sliding glass door. I would go and visit Max; I felt sorry for him, for his dad was gone much of the time. He spent endless hours alone–unhealthy for a pack animal. Dogs want to belong.
The mantra of my maternal grandmother, probably my clone. She lived to be 99.5 years, had a great sense of humor, and was overtly willing to try most everything–even a second marriage at 80 years old.
While in my early 20’s, I took a graduate school course in educational philosophy and discovered I was an existentialist–make every decision as if it is your last decision. I embraced that idea, and thus, I never looked back with “would have, could have, or should have.” Further, I don’t suffer from “buyer’s remorse.” Once I make a reasoned decision, I don’t dwell on it. It’s the proverbial water over the dam, regardless of the outcome.
Dr. Suze Espouses 