Today in My History
The Care and Feeding of Steve
a Beautiful Day
How Many Activity Points Do I Get for Coughing
Thar She Blows!
In Doubt, Cry Terror
Counting Down the Days
Cathy's Last Cousins' Day
Long Wait for the Mail
"5 Lesbians Eating a Quiche"
Books Read in 2015
Mirror Site for RSS
Letters from Michael &
from Lavenda, Brightone and Samuel
The Philosophy of Juice & Crackers
The story of Delicate Pooh
The story of the Pinata Group
Who IS this Gilbert person anyway?
mail to Walt
mail to Bev
BOTTLE CAP BINGO
10 October 2015
I came across this letter on my computer today. I
don't remember when I typed it from the handwritten original, but it was a
letter sent from David to Tom sometime in the 1990s. He talks about a
game the kids invented which they played with their grandmother. I
loved the letter not only because it shows what a good writer David was, but
because it comes from a time when he was alive and my mother had all her
Hey TQ, T-Cute,
Have you ever heard of the game, bottle cap bingo? It's a very challenging,
high wagering game. In case you don't know of it, let me give you some
There was this one day, I think it was Jeri's Birthday party at our parents'
house and folks were millin' around, drinkin' brews out of the bottle and
generally having a pleasant, socializing afternoon. Well, a coupla the gang,
I believe it was Dave Anderson, Joel Bass-loser and maybe a couple others,
were just absent-mindedly tossing bottle caps at the hole in the center of
the patio table in the back yard (you know, the hole where the umbrella is
supposed to go) while they yammered away, most likely about pooh and stupid
stuff like that. Well, gradually the scenario escalated into these dumb
musicians of the dumbest band on the planet taking careful aim and flicking
bottle caps at the hole in the center of the table. Well, you know what
happened next. Rules were developed, teams were formed, and wagers were
placed. The party then became nothing but a bottle cap bingo tournament and
it went on well into the evening.
Well, brother T., mother's day was a coupla days ago. The grandmas were
there, Norm was there, all the kids (except the lame San Louis one) were
there. Can you guess what happened? Oh what a wacky family. Here's the funny
thing--well there are lots of funny things, but here's part of it. It
started out with me, Jeri, Norm and the Big G. Rynders. Grams is babbling on
about how much she sucks and that she doesn't really want to play. Man, that
woman is aces! We're in one game and Grandma is my partner and we're down to
Norm and Jeri, like, four to eight (you play to nine to win, but if you go
over nine you go back down to six (there's a three point shot that can take
you over nine (kinda like tip-in, you know?))). Well, it's Grandma's turn
and she stealthily lines up her shot and then--bam, bam, bam, bam, bam.
Money machine, baby! And we're standin' up slappin' five across the table,
givin' our opponents the old "facial discracial" bit. She rules, man.
And then Grandma goes inside, and I need a new teammate, so we're trying to
convince Marta to play, but she just DOESN'T want to play. Says she's lame
and she won't have any fun. But we convince her and she hesitantly sits down
to a game. So we start taking our warm ups and she can't make any shots and
she's all pouting and looking like she just doesn't want to be playing. But
then she hits a three-pointer and she gets that little magic bottle cap
bingo sparkle behind her eyes. Slippery slope, man. The next thing, she's
out there for, like, an hour and half. I finally go inside and when I come
out again she's made up variations and is ready to wager her pugs on the
game, ya know?
So, what it comes down to, Tom, is that I think the game is some kind of
alien species, trying to take over the world. I mean, look at the history;
it developed out of nowhere, it eventually sucked everybody into it to the
point that the party was nearly forgotten, and now tournaments are being
scheduled, variations are being made, casinos are being planned, and listen
to how stupid I am. I think I'm just gonna stop talking because the further
I go on in this letter, the more I feel like a fool. Forgive me.