Thinking Out Loud

By Gerard Meister

The funny thing about achieving your 80th birthday (as I did this year) is that most people (perforce) believe that all the adventure has ebbed away from your life. That is simply not the case dear reader. While I will admit to no longer have the ability to climb mountains or to even dream of playing centerfield for the New York Yankees (in truth, I thought that after Mantle retired I had a shot). Still, the adventure is there, take this case in point: I had just finished a set of doubles and was toweling off when my partner asked if I had my cell phone with me?

“Sure,” I said. “You want to make a call?"

“Yes!” he said. “But I can’t find my phone in my bag and I’m sure that I took it so call me and I’ll be able to hear it,” he said as he rummaged through his tennis bag which was somewhat larger than a steamer trunk.

As luck would have it, I then remembered I had left my cell in the car (so I wouldn’t be bothered). “Gee, Bernie,” I said. “I forgot my phone in the car, ask Marvin.”

“Marv, you got your phone with you? I need you to call me, my cell is in my bag, but I can’t find it,” he said, as he filled the table and two chairs with all the memorabilia he had collected in forty-odd years of tennis.

“Sure,” Marvin said, and began exploring and emptying his bag of fifty-odd years of memorabilia, filling up the rest of the table and the remaining two chairs.

By this time, I was sure I had wandered into a Seinfeld skit and looked around for the camera, when Marv triumphantly held his cell phone above his head shouting, “I found it.”

“Great,” I exclaimed, now call Bernie!”

“Call him? He’s right here!”

“I know, Marv; I know. But it’s a long story; give me the phone for a minute. Okay?”

“Okay!”

“Okay, the phone is ringing Bernie, I can hear it.”

“You can hear it, Gerry?

“Yes!”

“I can’t!”

“Someone’s phone is ringing,” Marv said, awakening to the moment.

“Give me the bag for a minute, Bernie. I know it’s in there, let me look."

“Your wasting your time, it’s not there,” a now crestfallen Bernie said, “I must have lost it.”

“No!” I shouted, grabbing the bag from him and a second later holding up the elusive phone. “Here it is, who did you want to call?”

“Call?” Bernie inquired.

“Yes, call. That’s why we were looking for the phone in the first place, for God’s sake.”

“Oh, right, I wanted to call my wife. Thanks fellas.”