1948-1979 Catholic Upbringing

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Catholicism and me. Continue reading →

This is a painting of the Ursulines arrive in New Orleans in 1627. I can testify that heir fashions did not change a whit in the next 335 years.

I have been a Catholic or an ex-Catholic for all but a few days of my life. My parents arranged for me to be baptized as a Catholic as soon as it was possible. My mother and father were Catholics. Every single relative whom I met was Catholic. I attended Mass every Sunday and holy day of obligation for approximately three decades. I went to Catholic schools for twelve years; most of my teachers were Ursuline nuns or Jesuits. I was an altar boy in grade school, and a member of the Sodality in high school. I went to a state university, but I never missed Mass, even when I was out of town on vacation or a debate trip. I never missed Mass when I was in the army, working in Hartford, or living in Plymouth, MI, in the seventies. Catholicism formed me in many ways.

Catechism

Biblical stories were rare in Catholic schools.

Catholicism is fundamentally different from other Christian religions in at least three ways. Catholics are not educated using biblical stories, and they are not encouraged to read the Bible on their own. I never heard about Bible studies until I started associating with Protestants. Young Catholics are taught what to believe using the catechism, a thin book of fundamental questions and correct (or at least authorized) answers about God and humans. Catholic students—at least in those days—spent hours memorizing them and many more hours being drilled about them. The first two pairs in the version that we used were:

  • “Q: Who made you?” “A: God made me.”
  • “Q: Why did God make you?” “A: God made me to show forth his goodness and to make me happy with him in heaven.”

There were many more. I remember that Sr. Lucy’s second-grade class had an oral exam that covered eight or ten pages1 of these questions and answers. Before the test I was quite certain that I had all of the answers memorized, but I totally blanked on one of them. This failure totally crushed my spirit. I might have even cried. Sr.Lucy tried to comfort me, but at that point I was accustomed to academic success and just could not countenance my failure.

The catechism was comprehensive and coherent. It represented what Catholics believed. You could argue about other things, but contradicting anything in the catechism was, literally, heresy. For decades I assumed that other sects also had a fixed set of beliefs. When much later I participated in a group reading religious literature, I was shocked to find that the participants—al members of the same Protestant denomination—did not understand and agree upon the fundamental concepts of faith and hope. These people did not share the same religious beliefs. They just liked their minister and the other members of their flock.

To Catholics faith was agreement with the postulates of the catechism. Hope was confidence in God keeping up His/Her/Their side of the bargain. Love was respect for all of creation.

Seven Sacraments

The second identifying feature of the Catholic religion is its seven sacraments.

Other denominations baptize their members. A Catholic baptism has the primary purpose of providing absolution for “original sin”, a tarnish inherited from Adam and Eve that precludes salvation2. That explains why the ceremony is arranged by Catholic families almost immediately after birth, and why the infant has no say in the matter.

We were taught that if someone who had not been baptized—whether a solid citizen or a mass murderer—was about to die, it was your duty to baptize them. A priest was NOT required. The nuns taught us that there were several forms of baptism, some of which did not even require holy water. I remember kids arguing about whether water from the radiator of a car could be used in an emergency. The answer may have involved the percentage of antifreeze.

The sacrament that involves confessionals is called penance3. Few, if any, other denominations have meticulously prescribed methods for forgiveness of the myriad sins committed after baptism has wiped one’s slate (that is how I thought of it) clean. Some protestants (commonly called heathens by Church members) claimed that faith alone was enough, but that has always seemed transparently flawed to me. What’s faith got to do, got to do with it? You sinned; you died without absolution; you go to hell.

Cleansing the slate requires confessing one’s sins to an ordained priest. Catholic priests can withhold absolution if they are skeptical of either the penitent’s “heartfelt contrition” or the expression of a “firm purpose of amendment”. To me it made sense that the well-trained clerics were called on to make these important decisions.

Heathens often want to know what it is like to go to confession. For me the anticipation was worse than the event. No priest ever asked me to provide any sordid details, and certainly none ever withheld absolution. The “penance” prescribed could be anything, but in my experience it usually was a small number of Our Fathers and/or Hail Marys as well as “a good act of contrition”, in a prescribed format. After a few years of Catholic schools I (and everyone else whom I knew) could recite these prayers very rapidly. We used to hold races.

I never confessed any “mortal sins”, offenses that would be serious enough to merit eternal damnation. Should I have confessed my involvement with Sue while her first husband was still alive? I don’t think so. The Catholic Church did not recognize their marriage; why should I? Whether the Church would have condoned the forty years that elapsed before we were wed in a short civil wedding is a moot point. By that time I had fallen by the wayside.

Youngsters were allowed to receive the Eucharist when they reached “the age of reason”, usually in the second or third grade. That does not mean that they understand the concept of transubstantiation on which the sacrament is based. However, they were required to make a good confession before their first communion, and the two requisites for absolution demand the ability to distinguish right from wrong. By second or third grade most Catholic youngsters had a pretty good idea of what was “class participation” and what could get your knuckles rapped.

The Eucharist has always been part of the Mass. In my youth the priest lay the consecrated host on your tongue; he did not hand it to you. The priest drank a little wine, but he did not share it with the communicants.

Before receiving the consecrated host for the first time our class had a dry run. It felt like a piece of paper that wants to adhere to the tongue. It has neither of the taste nor the texture of food. I had a lot of difficulty swallowing the (unconsecrated) host the first time that a nun put one on my tongue. I don’t know why; I never experienced any subsequent difficulty.

You can tell he’s a bishop by his crook and his miter.

I never really understood how confirmation fit into the sacraments4. It was supposed to make you stronger. You were allowed to pick a name; I chose Peter. The archbishop came to town. We all lined up, and he went down the line and gave each person a gentle slap on the cheek.

Almost no one has ever received all seven sacraments. One would need to be ordained as a priest (holy orders) and married (matrimony). Since women have never been allowed to be priests, half of the population was immediately excluded. A few widowers have been ordained late in life. I never asked whether priests who disclaimed their vows could be married. A vow is a vow, but there may be some wiggle room that I don’t know about.

Father Brown whipped out his stole and ointment and performed extreme unction on lots of murder victims.

Up to the end of the sixties the seventh sacrament was called extreme unction. “Unction” meant anointing with oil; “extreme” meant that it was reserved for terminal cases. I considered this a great name, but it has undergone several rebrandings in the last few decades. It was called last rites for a while and then the sacrament of the sick. At some point it was renamed anointing the sick.

As I understood it, the oil lubricated the pathway to heaven for someone who was deathly ill. On television it was sometimes used even when the symptoms included the termination of all bodily functions. You can never be too careful. Maybe the living soul was stuck between two non-functioning organs. Why take a chance?

Popes

For most of my life only two popes who served since the eleventh century were canonized. John XXII and J2P2 recently doubled that.

The papacy is the other unique institution. One person, the Bishop of Rome, is given the lifetime occupation of administering the Church worldwide. It has worked pretty well for 2,000 years or so. In the twentieth century I was about as familiar with the popes as the average Catholic. The popes in the first fifty years of my lifetime—Pius XII, John XXIII, Paul VI, John Paul I, and John Paul II—were well respected by most Catholics. In general they did a good job directing the Church in all areas except one. The elephant in the room will be discussed below.

Several decades after I dropped out of Catholicism I conducted an incredibly detailed study of the papacy—the institution and the individuals. I discovered that the popes were quite diverse. Some were geniuses, some were greedy or vindictive, one was hen-pecked!. A fairly large number of them spent little or no time in Rome. The Holy Ghost, operating through the College of Cardinals (and a number of other diverse electorates), has demonstrated eclectic taste in pontiffs.

The illustrated book that I wrote about the popes is posted here. The story of how it came about is related in this blog entry.

The Calling

I never liked telephones.

The nuns and, to a lesser extent, the Jesuits talked about “the calling”. They uniformly insisted that at some point in their lives an event of some kind occurred that demonstrated to them that their God-ordained destiny was a religious career. None of them described the nature of that event, but each one indicated that anyone who received such a calling understood that God had definitely designated his intention for them.

While I was in grade school and high school I was a devout Catholic and, at the same time, extremely arrogant. I expected to receive the calling from God, probably just after I was an all-America wide receiver at Notre Dame. I listened intently for the call. In my senior year of high school I went on a retreat for several days with the members of the Sodality at Rockhurst. The priest conducting the event emphasized that everyone should listen carefully for his calling. I did, but I heard nothing. I was quite disappointed.

Years later I gave some thoughts as to what the events that so many of my teachers interpreted as a calling could have been. If it was not the usual hormonal firestorm occurring in an unusual setting, I could not hazard a guess. Here’s a clue, however: two of the nuns who were my teachers at Queen of the Holy Rosary were Sr. Ralph and Sr. Kevin. Where did they come up with those names? They are supposed to choose the name of a saint. The following was published by the Houston Chronicle in 2005:

There are two Saint Ralphs in the Catholic hagiography: Ralph of Bourges, a ninth-century French abbot, and Ralph Crockett, a 16th-century English martyr. Compared to Saints Peter and Aquinas, the Ralphs were theological underachievers. Crockett tried to convert England to Catholicism but was hanged, drawn and quartered. Ralph of Bourges’ principal accomplishment seems to be taking part in the Synod of Meaux. Ralph, it appears, is the patron saint of mediocrity.

St. Kevin lived (allegedly for 120 years!) as a hermit in a very small cave in Ireland. This was on Wikipedia:

One of the most widely known poems of the Nobel prizewinner Seamus Heaney, ‘St Kevin and the Blackbird’, relates the story of Kevin holding out his hand with trance-like stillness while a blackbird builds a nest in it, lays eggs, the eggs hatch and the chicks fledge.

No wonder I didn’t hear anything on that retreat.

“Falling Away”

My transition from ardent Catholic to complete skeptic was a fairly sudden one. The events involved were described in this blog entry.

I must emphasize that in the twelve years that I attended Catholic schools I did not witness or even hear any rumors of any kind of questionable conduct from any teachers or administrators. Furthermore, I did not hear of any inappropriate behavior at any parish that I lived in.

One slightly peculiar event occurred in the few months that I was stationed at Seneca Army Depot in 1972. I have described it in this blog entry.

My dad once told me a story that he heard from his brother Joe, the Benedictine priest (introduced here). Evidently, when he was still in Burlington, IA, he approached the prior or the abbot or some other Catholic bigwig to complain about abusive conduct by one of the other priests. The only result was that the offender was moved to another part of the country. My uncle may have made a minor stink about this and/or threatened to make a major stink. In any case he too was transferred. His destination was as remote as is imaginable, Kelly, KS4. Imagine a small country town with a pastor who was a Benedictine monk with a masters degree in economics from the University of Chicago.

I cannot register any surprise at the Church’s response to the flood of allegations of sexual abuse by Catholic clergy. I can only think of three explanations for such behavior by a clergyman:: mental illness, possession by the devil, or simple unwillingness to resist the temptation. In any case the perp was probably called to account for his deeds. He was undoubtedly asked if he was contrite and whether he would be able to prevent recurrences. He almost certainly answered “yes” to both questions. If the bishop felt that he was sincere, he would have no choice but to provide absolution. The man’s immortal soul was at stake. The actions may have been (usually were) criminal, but they did not put anyone’s soul in jeopardy.

If the bishop was not convinced, then he would be faced with the prospect of choosing between mandating mental health assistance, initiating an exorcism, or calling the cops. All of these options would be considered disastrous by any bishop. Keep in mind that the offender had received a calling to work for the Church. He and the other clergy were the tools that the bishop was asked to deploy in order to provide eternal salvation, In my day the number of vocations was critically low and decreasing. So, why not see if the situation could be salvaged?

I don’t think that it was an official policy. Nevertheless, the bishops made the same decision almost without exception: They quietly tramsferred the perps to a different location. This would solve the problem if the subject was actually willing and able to stop his crimes, or if the new location did not provide the same temptations. This may have occasionally worked, or it may have worked long enough for either the perp to die or become unable to commit the crimes or for the bishop to die or be replaced. The other solutions mentioned above would have certainly removed one of the clergy on whom the bishop depended and generated publicity that would likely reduce vocations in the future.

Altar Boy

One server was plenty at a high Mass.

I served as an altar boy for two or three years. At Queen there were two Masses every weekday. One was at 6am. The other, which was attended by all of the students. was held at 8:30. The 6 o’clock mass was always a low mass, which meant that only two candles on either side of the tabernacle had to be lit by the senior server, mostly because there was no music. These Masses were also much shorter and required only two servers. Actually one would suffice in a pinch, but two looked more balanced.

Sometimes the 8:30 Masses were high Masses. That required lighting six candle that were much higher on the altar. A device6 with a long wick at the end of a brass pole is used both to light and snuff the candles. This was the one thing that required a bit of skill. If a lit wick broke off and landed on the altar cloth, there would be heck to pay.

The Mass always proceeded in the same order. The only variation was for the epistle and gospel readings and the sermon. The first two were determined by the Church’s official calendar. The sermon was determined by the priest. At the daily Mass, low or high, it was generally omitted. It was hard enough to keep hundreds of squirmy youngsters under control even when the nuns required that each leave room for his/her guardian angel on one side.

The rest of the Mass was called the “ordinary”. While I was a server it was all in Latin. To become a server you had to memorize all of the responses. Some of these, like “amen” and “et cum spiritu tuo” were easy, but the ones in the beginning were somewhat challenging. The very first response was “ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meam.”7 Probably the reason for multiple servers at nearly all Masses was to make sure that at least one was able to say the proper response out loud.

We assumed that God liked Latin best.

At a high Mass the following were sung by the entire congregation: Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, and Agnus Dei. There were several sets of music for these. Some of them were quite elaborate. There were often hymns at other spots as well. All of these were in blue books that were available in the pews.

The servers were not asked to sing, but each had designated duties. The one on the right rang the bells to wake up parishioners that the important part was coming. The two in the middle handled the cruets that were used in the ablution section The one on the left was called “the dead end” because he (no girls!) had no special responsibilities. When they were not busy, the servers knelt8 at the foot of the altar. They got to sit during the epistle, gospel, and sermon. One of the nuns would always be on the lookout for squirming or poor posture.

The priest’s dressing room, called the sacristy was on the left (from the point of view of the congregants) of the altar. Priests wore (at a minimum) a white chasuble and cincture beneath the vestments, which varied in color depending on the type of Mass and the calendar. Green was the most common. The servers’ room was on the right. They wore white short-sleeve surplices over black cassocks. There were about ten of each to choose from, first come first serve. I like to get there early. In the eighth grade I was one of the tallest, and only two or three went down to my ankles. Both the priest and the servers were fully dressed before donning their religious attire.

It was considered an honor to be an altar boy. In retrospect I find it amazing that my mom was willing to drive me to the early service. She was supportive of almost anything that I wanted to undertake.

Mackerel Snappers

Those fish were not “wild caught” within 500 miles of Kansas City.

In the Wavada household meat was NEVER served on Friday. It was likewise absent from my grade and high schools. My recollection is that I had cereal for breakfast and cheese sandwiches for lunch. There was no fresh lobster in the Kansas City area. The only offerings for supper that I remember were spicy boiled shrimp, fried catfish, fish sticks, and tuna and noodle casserole. The last was by far my favorite of those four. However, I don’t think that I complained much. My mother was a very good cook.

Why did we (and nearly every other Catholic family) deliberately refrain from eating meat on Fridays? I don’t think that it was actually decreed by the Church in the way that attending Mass was. That was derived from one of the Ten Commandments. The fasting was just one example of the “offer it up” approach to life that was drummed into us. Whenever you were disappointed, upset, or frustrated, a nun or priest would tell you to offer the situation up to God. Friday was chosen in memory of Good Friday, on which Jesus suffered so much for the rest of us.

Catholics were also encouraged to give up something for Lent, the forty-day period before Easter. Most of the kids whom I knew gave up candy or nothing. Since I did not have a sweet tooth, that would not have been much of a sacrifice for me. I might have tried to do without Coke or potato chips, but I doubt that I had the willpower to endure forty days without them.

Prayers

Praying in the Catholic Church is largely a matter of rote. For example, saying the rosary consisted of saying 53 Hail Marys and a handful of Our Fathers and Glory Bes at a supersonic pace while cogitating about one of three sets of “mysteries”. My family recited the same prayer, which we called “Grace”, before every evening meal. At QHRS my vague recollection was that we all stood up at our desks and recited the same prayer right before lunch. My mother may have made me say it before breakfast. Here is what we said:

We never invoked “Baby Jesus”.

Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty through Christ, our Lord. Amen.

I never noticed before that there were two Lords in this prayer. One apparently owns the bounty; the other distributes it. If I had asked about this, I wonder what the nuns would have said.

Here is what I think about prayers with a specific purpose—asking for something, thanking for something, etc. If God is all-powerful, then He/She/They is also omniscient and therefore knows about the situation. Why would God care about whether someone debased himself to obtain something or express an emotion? Surely, if God is ever willing to tamper with nature, the decision would not be induced by nagging. Similarly, why would God care about whether someone was willing to forgo meat on Friday?

To me it is a lot easier to understand why the Church and its clergy would care about enforcing discipline than to think of a reason why an omniscient and omnipotent Being would be impressed by prayers or self-imposed suffering. I remember thinking how strange it was when both Argentina and Great Britain fought over the Falkland Islands. Both countries insisted that God was on their side in the conflict. I wonder if there were many conversions in Argentina from Catholicism to Anglicanism when the Brits prevailed.

Saints and Miracles

A few other religions have saints, dead people who are purportedly now in heaven. In the Roman and Greek Orthodox Churches they are a big deal. Cults that worship saints—especially Mary, Jesus’s mother—have developed over the years. “Queen of the Holy Rosary”, the name of our parish, was an example of the strange twists that the cults can take. Mary had nothing to do with the rosary. It was invented many years later. I don’t know if there is a singular “holy rosary” somewhere, but the only way that Mary is associated with the beads is the fact that the Hail Mary prayer is recited fifty-three times.

As far as I was concerned the popes decided—using a complicated legal process that involved the assessment of miracles and a “devil’s advocate”—who was a saint. Since the pope was infallible, that was it; they were in. Later I learned that during the first few hundred years of Christianity, lists of martyrs and other prominent Christians were created. At some point all of the people on the list were referred to as saints even though the process of getting on one of these lists was much less sophisticated than the rigorous process with which I was familiar.

The medals that I remember were pinned to the visor on the driver’s side.

In my day St. Christopher was one of the most popular of all saints. Many Catholics carried a medal of the saint. It supposedly provided protection against accidents. There were many contradictory stories about St. Christopher, but the evidence that he was a real person (as opposed to a fable or a composite of different people) was scant. In 1970, the year that I graduated from college, the Church removed him from the calendar, but he was still worshiped as a saint in some places. For that matter Charlemagne, who routinely executed thousands of people whom he captured, wass widely considered a saint and venerated as such. Although the emperor was never canonized, his statue was placed prominently in the narthex of St. Peter’s Basilica.

I think that my mom had a St. Christopher medal in her Oldsmobile 88. I could be wrong.

To be confirmed as a saint you had to have several miracles attributed to you. I firmly believed that there were thousands of documented miracles associated with these holy people. I took it as a “given”, not worth thinking about any more.

The nuns and priests that I encountered did not spend a lot of time discussing the saints. The one story that I remember vividly featured St. Dominic Savio and his biographer, Don Bosco. The saint died when he was only fifteen. Evidently he was extremely intelligent and absolutely devoted to becoming a saint. For a while I was inspired by his attitude, but eventually I reverted to my previous philosophy of doing whatever I could get away with.

The champion canonizer has himself been canonized by Pope Francis.

I am not sure which miracles Pope Pius XII (discussed in great detail here) attributed to little Dominic. By 1978, the beginning of the pontificate of Pope John Paul II, advancements in science had made obsolesced the standards of evidence previously used for verification of miracles. J2P2 canonized approximately 480 people, probably more than all of his predecessors combined. What process did he use? He just announced every so often that the list of saints was longer.

Much later I did a little research in the area of hagiography. I concluded that anyone who lived before the Renaissance and is considered a saint should be treated with suspicion. Some almost certainly were fabrications, others were probably composites of two or more stories, and some who were real people were rascals or worse..

Sacred Objects

The duomo in Milan is one of the most amazing plzdes that I have seen.

The Catholic Church has for a very long time made use of statues, paintings, and relics. The duomo in Milan has over 3,400 statues, including a very large number on its roof and a very famous one in the church of a flayed St. Bartholomew carrying his own skin. The altar in every church contains a blessed relic—usually a fragment of a bone alleged to be from a saint.

No holy cards for Mike.

I remember that my class had a raffle of a few such tokens one year. Kids bought raffle tickets. First prize was a statue of Jesus that was perhaps fifteen inches in height. The secondary prizes were far inferior, probably “holy cards” with a picture of a saint or a miracle and some explanatory text on the back. For some reason I really wanted that statue. My only source of income was my allowance, which, if memory serves, was twenty-five cents per week. However, I spent almost nothing. I bought quite a few baseball cards over the years, but otherwise I was miserly.

On the day of the auction I brought all of my money to school and purchased more than half of the total tickets. Sure enough, I won the statue, but I did not win any of the other prizes. In retrospect I should have bought no tickets. After the auction I could have made the winner an offer he/she could not refuse.

I don’t remember what happened to that statue. I don’t think that it survived the move from Prairie Village to Leawood. For the most part my family did not take part in the iconography that was prevalent in Catholic homes in the fifties and sixties. However, I do remember wearing one religious item for quite a few years, a Brown Scapular.

The scapular was composed of two cloth rectangular pieces connect by two straps. One piece went on the front and one on the back. It was inspired by the habit of the Carmelites, which was, or course, much larger. The ones that I saw were woolen. Evidently, that requirement was dropped at some point.

You can’t just buy scapulars. I don’t remember this happening, but at some point the older kids at QHRS must have been “enrolled”. Part of the admonition is “Wear it as a sign of her [i.e., Mary’s] protection and of belonging to the Family of Carmel.” Furthermore, “whoever receives the scapular becomes a member of the order and pledges him/herself to live according to its spirituality in accordance with the characteristics of his/her state in life.”

She only works on Saturdays.

Although it has never officially been part of the Church’s teaching, the Brown Scapular has for a very long time been linked with the “Sabbatine Privilege”, which promises that the wearer will be released by Our Lady of Mt. Carmel10 from Purgatory on the first Saturday after death. This was great! Purgatory was the place to which people were sent if they died with venial sins that were not absolved. Every “impure thought” was such a sin. Practically every adolescent who died would be forced to spend time—an hour, a year, a millennium?—roasting in purgatory. If, however, he had the Sabbatine Privilege, his time there would be less than a week. If he got in a car crash after partying hard on a Friday evening, he might go straight to heaven as long as he was still wearing his Brown Scapular. “So long, losers!”

My scapular had several pieces of cloth in each of the two sections. That is all that I remember of it. I don’t remember when I stopped wearing it. I certainly did not wear it in Ann Arbor.

There also was a version of the scapular that was a medal.

Big Events

The two big events on the Church’s calendar were, of course, Christmas and Easter. I remember being surprised that I was chosen for the boy’s choir as an eighth grader. We sang “Oh, Holy Night” at the midnight Mass.

For Easter I was chosen in the eighth grade to serve either at the high Mass on Maundy Thursday or Easter Sunday. I do not remember which.

1. This is almost certainly an exaggeration, but I remember quite clearly that this was a momentous event. Maybe it was preparation for First Communion or Confirmation. The most famous version is the Baltimore Catechism, which has been posted here.

2. In my day babies who died unbaptized supposedly went to a place called Limbo. In 2007 the Church waffled a bit on this and concluded that there is hope that God will do what humans were unable to do, namely baptize them himself. Don’t try to visualize this.

3. For some reason it seems to be called “Penance and Reconciliation” in 2024.

4. I wonder if it was added later to bring the list to seven. Most religious lists seem to have three or seven items. I might be on to something. The Encyclopedia Britannica The number of sacraments also varied in the early church, sometimes including as many as 10 or 12. In the sixteenth century the Council of Trent specified the list that we learned.

5. My experiences with Fr. Joe after he was sent to Kelly are posted here.

6. I expected to discover a Latin name for the pole, but it is merely called a candle lighter.

7. I discovered in my Latin class that some heathens might have been able to read this, but they would not have understood us when we said it. They had a markedly different way of pronouncing some letters. They rendered Caesar’s famous dictum “Veni; Vidi; Vici” as “WAY knee WEE dee WEE kee”.

8. What a wonderful thing it was to still have cartilage!

9.In my day the three sets were the Joyful Mysteries, the Sorrowful Mysteries, and the Glorious Mysteries. They told the story of Mary and Jesus in chronological order. Each had ten “decades”, one for each group of ten beads. I had never heard of the Luminous Mysteries, which are apparently prayed on Thursdays. All of these have been explained in detail on the Internet here.

10. I am 99 percent certain that “Our Lady of Mt. Carmel” is the same as Mary, the mother of Jesus. For some reason she has dozens of titles, each of which emphasizes something different about her. Incidentally, the Church has never officially preached that Mary shows up and checks for slightly charred scapulars every Saturday. However, it dies claim that Mary never died. She was “assumed” into heaven. If an archeologist ever makes a case that Mary’s tomb has been found, all Catholics must immediately denounce him/her/them as a heretic.

2020-? Streaming

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Lots of good shows. Continue reading →

I watched MST3K by myself.

Since 1972, when Sue and I first got together in Hartford, we had spent many evenings together watching television. I liked a few shows (including wrestling and Mystery Science Theater 3000) that were too silly for her. She liked a few shows (such as Grantchester, Gilmore Girls, and many old flicks on Turner Classic Movies) that were too schmaltzy for me. On the whole, however, our tastes were mostly compatible. During most of this period we watched whatever was on the major networks or we did something else like jigsaw puzzles or two-person games.

Not for me.

Two developments changed these habits: the ability to schedule broadcasted programs to be recorded easily and the ability to watch programs at will through streaming services on the Internet. Streaming, in this context, means watching over a rather short period of time all (or at least a large portion) of the episodes for a television series in order. In the twentieth century the characters on most television programs evolved very little over the life of the series. Basically the primary characters might change within an episode (or occasionally a few episodes), but eventually they returned to their basic original state. So, if a viewer had missed a few episodes, the plot of the current episode was easy to follow.

In the twenty-first century some series still followed that format, but many others deviated. In those shows plot lines might not be resolved within the episode, and characters might have life-changing experiences or even be seriously injured, contract a chronic illness or die. In any case it was much more enjoyable to watch these shows in order once that became practical.

During the year of isolation for the pandemic Sue and I developed a habit of watching a couple of hours of television together every evening. Sometimes we watched public television or a movie on Turner Classic Movies, but our mainstay was streaming. The research for this entry tuned up a surprisingly large number of shows. My comments about the ones listed below are almost all overwhelmingly positive. The reason for that is simple. If either Sue or I did not like a show, we stopped watching. So, the list includes only well-acted shows with interesting plots and characters and a minimum of violence and schmaltz.

Masterpiece/Mystery

For decades Sue and I had been watching the PBS programs shown under the titles of Masterpiece Theater and Mystery (later combined and labeled “Masterpiece”). Four or five times a year very good British shows were presented, one season1 at a time. The first one that I can remember watching was the version of Sherlock Holmes that starred Jeremy Britt in thirteen episodes that closely followed the plots of Doyle’s famous stories. We also enjoyed the first version of All Creatures Great and Small. These two shows appeared on PBS at about the same time in the second half of the eighties.

Here is a list of other Masterpiece shows that I can remember. They are roughly in chronological order.

  • The Poirot show in the mid-eighties that featured David Suchet was. in my opinion, far better than any of the movies based on the many Agatha Christie novels.
  • Lewis was the sequel to the wildly popular Inspector Morse series that I later watched on YouTube both on the television and on my laptop. My favorite characters were Laurence Fox as Hathaway and Clare Holman as Dr. Hobson.
  • Sherlock starring Benedict Cumberbatch was a spectacular updating of the Holmes stories. At times it got a little too spectacular. My favorite character was Una Stubbs as Mrs. Hudson, the landlady at 221B.
  • Endeavour was a clever prequel to the Morse stories set in the sixties and early seventies. The supporting cast was great, especially Roger Allam and Anton Lesser as Morse’s bosses.
  • Sue and I both really liked Baptiste with Tchéky Karyo, but it only had three seasons. This show was a continuation of a British series called The Missing that was never shown on Masterpiece.
  • We also really liked Press, which focused on the conflict between two of London’s newspapers. The BBC did not renew for a second season.
  • We struggled through a whole season of Broadchurch. It had its moments.
  • Unforgotten was a great series. The first episode after Nicola Walker’s departure was a little disappointing.
  • Guilt was a quirky show about two brothers in Scotland and their dealings with a crime family.
  • A new version of Around the World in Eighty Days appeared on Masterpiece in 2021. It was obviously shot before the Pandemic.
  • Anthony Horowitz’s Magpie Murders, which I consider the best detective novel since A Study in Scarlet, was magically transformed into a great television series on Masterpiece. AH’s comments at the end of each episode were a special treat. The sequel, Mayflower Murders, was somewhat disappointing, both in print and on the screen. At the end of the last episode Horowitz announced that there would be a third book, but he was noncommittal about a third television series.
  • The biggest disappointment was was Roadkill, which starred Hugh Laurie (the star of House and the British show Jeeves and Wooster), as an ambitious member of the British parliament.
  • A second version of All Things Great and Small on Masterpiece resumed the story just before World War II. The new Mrs. Hall, Anna Madly, was great. Tristan was disappointing.
  • Mr. Bates Versus the Post Office was an interesting documentary on Masterpiece about a British scandal. The legal ramifications were still ongoing when it was shown in 2024.
  • I liked Nicola Walker’s showpiece, Annika on Masterpiece, better than Sue did. It also starred Jamie Sives, who played a principal role in Guilt.
  • Maryland on Masterpiece was a fairly interesting portrayal of two sisters’ responses to the surprising news of their mother’s secret life and death on the Isle of Man.

YouTube

The quality of shows on YouTube has always been hit and miss. Most of the ones that I have seen were recorded uploaded one at a time by individuals, not the owners of the material.

The cast of Vera in season 13.
  • Inspector Morse was so popular on ITV in England that in 2008 it was named the greatest British crime drama of all time by readers of Radio Times. It also generated a long-running sequel and a very popular prequel. As far as I know, it has never been shown on free television in the U.S. Fortunately someone uploaded every episode to YouTube, and I watched them all.2 I liked both Lewis and Endeavour a little better.
  • If the poll were run again Vera, which started in 2011, might win. Brenda Blethyn’s performances were just outstanding. Many, but by no means all, of the shows have been uploaded to YouTube, probably illegally. I tried to read a book by Ann Cleeves, who wrote the Vera novels, but I hated it.
  • Sue really liked Rosemary & Thyme, which was about a pair of middle-aged women whose main business was consulting about gardening. People tend to get killed wherever they tended shrubbery, and they solved the crimes. Somehow it worked.

MHz Choice

I am not sure when or where I heard about Mhz Choice, the streaming service that provided (very well done) closed-captioned versions of European mysteries and other shows. It only cost $8.50 per month. The only drawback was that you could either watch on Cox or on a computer. If you wanted to do both, you had to buy two subscriptions. It was difficult to set up the computer to display on the television screen through Cox. In any case Sue didn’t enjoy depending on captions. So, I watched all of the below on my laptop in the basement while using the rowing machine.

The Montalbano series spent a lot of time on balconies of Sicilian restaurants.
  • I learned about the Detective Montalbano made-for-television movies (called “fiction” in Italy) while on our tour of Sicily (documented here). Every one of them (except the last) was outstanding. I tried reading a few of the books written by Andrea Camilleri, but the use of Sicilian dialect in the dialog was off-putting.
  • The prequel Young Montalbano was pretty good, too.
  • I watched the Norwegian drama Acquitted through all of the episodes. By the end I was quite tired of it.
  • Detective DeLuca was a slow-paced crime story about the Mussolini era.
  • I really enjoyed the quirky Swiss show called Allmen. It was about a down-on-his luck thief/con man and the butler who kept him out of jail. There were only four episodes, and they have been pulled from MHz Choice. I discovered that a fifth one was released in 2023, but I have no idea how to watch it.
  • In 2024 I have made it through several seasons of The Undertaker, a story about an undertaker who formerly was a cop. The premise holds up surprisingly well, although I had the impression that he solved more than 100 percent of the murders in the area.
  • BarLume, which means “glimmer” in Italian. was a comedy about an owner of a bar in which three old guys hang out. The two women in the show were fantastic. The premise sort of fell apart after the first season.
  • I absolutely loved Vanessa Scalera’s performance as the title character in Imma Tataranni: Deputy Prosecutor. I would watch her in anything. I also enjoyed the depiction of the amazing town of Matera, which Sue and I visited in October of 2011 (documented here). However, the basic story line went off the rails in the second season and never recovered.
  • I watched two seasons of The Bastards of Pizzofalcone. That was enough. Pizzofalcone is a neighborhood of Naples.
  • Beck was a well-made Swedish cop show. I have watched several seasons. Most of the shows were stolen by Mikael Persbrandt as Gunwald Larsson. I will probably watch more.
  • The only two French shows that I liked featured very quirky women, Corinne Masiero as the title character in Captain Marleau, and Isabelle Gélinas, who has appeared in ten episodes of Perfect Murders.
  • There were a great many German shows that I have not yet watched. Two that I really enjoyed are the Borowski part of the long-running Tatort franchise and Murders by the Lake. Both have very interesting settings that I would love to visit—the port city of Kiel and Lake Constance. Axel Milberg was outstanding as Klaus Borowski, and the show paired him with three intriguing female colleagues. Nora Waldstätten was stunning as Hannah in Lake. She also appeared in one of the Allmen episodes. Unfortunately, she left the show in the third season. I watched a few episodes, but the chemistry was gone.
  • The Bridge was a Swedish production about cooperation between Swedish and Danish authorities concerning serial killers who drive across the long bridge that connects the two countries. The best reason to watch was to see the performance of Sofia Helin as the Swedish inspector who is clearly pretty high on the autism spectrum.
  • I watched one season of the German version of Professor T. It had no magic. I was very disappointed. For some reason MHz Choice does not have the Belgian version.
  • The four seasons of the German period piece Babylon Berlin were mesmerizing. It was set in the Weimar Republic years that followed World War I. The production values were absolutely incredible. Evidently there will be one more season, probably in 2025.

Peacock

NBC’s streaming service was available for free on Cox Cable for over a year during the pandemic. Sue and I took advantage of this nearly every evening. We were disappointed when they started charging for the service, but by then we had watched most of the good series.

Jim, Freddie, and Lance in “Nice Guys Finish Dead.”
  • The Rockford Files, which was broadcast in the seventies, was my all-time favorite television series. The only bad episode was the pilot. James Garner was, of course, outstanding throughout. The two episodes that featured Tom Selleck as Lance White, and James Whitmore, Jr., as Freddie Beamer were truly outstanding.
  • Monk was a notch lower, but the humor surrounding Tony Shalhoub’s character was generally good. I especially enjoyed Monk’s second assistant, Traylor Howard as Natalie Teeger, and Monk’s brother Ambrose, played by John Turturro.
  • The best thing about Psych was the premise that most people can be deceived into believing in paranormal powers. The cast was good, too. The only really bad episode was the musical.
  • 30 Rock won an Emmy almost every year, and it richly deserved each one. The cast was exceptionally good from top to bottom. Nobody but Tina Fey could have played Liz. My favorite character was Dennis Duffy, the Beeper King, played by Dean Winters. Every episode was golden, and they were just as funny the second and third time.
  • Parks and Recreation was not quite as good, but Amy Poehler held it together with her spiral binders. Nick Offerman as Ron Swanson stole most shows. The last year or two were not up to par.
  • Leopard Skin was an extremely bizarre set of eight beautifully shot episodes. I enjoyed it; Sue missed an episode or two, and could not make sense of it after that. I would gladly watch it again, if only to see Gaite Jansen as Batty.
  • The Resort was almost as bizarre, but the plot held together fairly well to a very strange ending
  • The comedy Rutherford Falls started out pretty well, but the last few episodes were tiresome. The best characters were the Indians.
  • The Capture had an interesting premise about being able to doctor the transmission of surveillance videos. I was not that enamored by the principal characters.
  • Vigil was about a murder aboard a nuclear submarine. It was very well done. Shaun Evans (Endeavour) appeared as a navy officer with a beard.
  • Five Bedrooms was an Australian series about five single people living together. I found it very engaging, and Sue absolutely loved it. We saw season 1 and 2 on Peacock. Season 3 and 4 were supposed to be on Amazon Prime, but the only place that they seemed to be available in 2024 is on Apple TV+.
  • Intelligence was a silly low-budget British comedy about the worst intelligence agency imaginable. Parts were funny.
  • The first season of Hitmen, a British show about two female freelance assassins who are also lifelong best friends, was hilarious. I watched every episode twice. The second episode, filmed during the lockdown, was disappointing.
  • Code 404 was a moderately funny British comedy about a cop who died and then was resuscitated with an electronically augmented brain. Sue did not like it much.

AMC+

  • Sue and I watched several seasons of the extremely popular show, Mad Men. on FreeVee. Amazon pulled it from the lineup when we were in the penultimate season. We bought a monthly subscription to AMC+. Almost all of the shows were good, but it was clear that the wind was going out of the writers’ sails in the last few episodes.
  • Before we canceled the AMC+ subscription we also watched the first two seasons of Dark Winds. It was based on the the novels of Tony Hillerman that featured native American cops Joe Leaphorn, Jim Chee, and Bernadette Manuelito. The third season will reportedly be shown on AMC in 2025. I will look for it.

Freevee

I take back all of the bad things that I have ever said about Amazon. The Internet giant bought IMDB’s free streaming service (with commercial interruptions), added a great deal of content, and relabeled it as Freevee. Some of these shows were really outstanding, and the price was unbeatable.

Giovanni Ribisi was the central character.
  • Many shows and movies have been made about con men, but Sneaky Pete might be the best. Every member of the cast was really outstanding. Sue and I also enjoyed the fact that it was largely set in Connecticut. My idol, Ricky Jay, had a small role in the final season. Because he died during the filming, the last episode needed to be rewritten.
  • Sprung was a very funny show that was about one of the side effects of the pandemic—people being released from prison in order to reduce the spread of Covid. This show only had one season, and the ending precluded any chance of a second season.
  • Alpha House was a comedy created by Gary Trudeau, the cartoonist of Doonesbury. It centered around a house in Washington in which four Republican senators stayed. I found it fairly funny, but it only had two season. Trudeau’s wife, Jane Pauley, appeared in one show.
  • Bosch was a treasurer. It was probably the best cop show ever. It certainly was the best that I have ever seen. Titus Welliver was perfect. The rest of the cast was also outstanding. Crate and Barrel, two detectives whom everyone addressed by their nicknames, were hilarious. I read one of the books by Michael Connelly and was severely disappointed.
  • It was hard to believe that Bosch Legacy, the sequel that focused on Bosch’s daughter Maddie, would be nearly as good as the original. Sue and I kept asking how the producers could have known that Madison Lintz, who appeared on Bosch as a gangly teenager, would grow up to be believable as a female version of Bosch.
  • Jury Duty was a “reality” show that was played for laughs. The judge, bailiff, witnesses, and all but one juror were actors. It was fairly amusing.
  • Taboo was a bizarre British show about one man’s bizarre encounter with the British government and the East India Company in the early days of the United States. Tom Hardy was compelling as the main character, James Delaney. It only had one season.
  • Sue and I both liked Eric McCormack in Perception. He played a schizophrenic professor of neurology who solved crimes as a hobby when he wasn’t writing seven books, teaching postgraduate classes, or doing crosswords while listening to Mahler on his Walkman.
  • The Amazing Mrs. Maisel was probably the best home-grown Amazon show that was migrated to FreeVee. The entire cast was very impressive, and the writing was very sharp. It was set in the late fifties and early sixties. The title character was good friends with Lenny Bruce. Many Emmys were won by this show. We watched season 5 on Amazon Prime
  • We also both liked Mary McCormack and the rest of the cast of In Plain Sight, a show about the federal witness protection program. It was filmed in and around Albuquerque, which made it a little more interesting for me.
  • The premise of Person of Interest was that it would be possible for a genius to write a program that simultaneously monitored all forms of electronic data and analyzed it all person by person in order to recognize people who were a threat or being threatened. Plus, it was completely secure, and only one person knew how to use it. This was, of course, preposterous, but if you suspended disbelief, the writers and actors could get you interested in the plots. Michael Emerson was perfect as the genius.
  • The Mallorca Files was a British show about the police on the island of Mallorca. Ellen Rhys and Julian Looman were cops. She was English; he was a native of Munich who moved to Palma and has gone native. The tone was just right. The second season ended abruptly when production was stopped for Covid. However, a third season is in the can and will be shown on Amazon Prime.

Tubi

Tubi was another free streaming service that was available on Cox. Its commercials were a little more annoying than FreeVee’s. The selection of programs were not as good, but we (or mostly I) found a few good ones.

Robert Carlisle played Hamish. He had two different dogs. Both were named Wee Josh.
  • We originally watched Hamish Macbeth, a show about the constable for a remote Scottish village, on the local PBS station. We recorded the episodes when they were shown late (for me) at night on Saturday and watched them together on Monday evenings. We saw the entire series again on Tubi. This series was very loosely based on a series of novels by Marion Chesney. I read one of the books and hated it.
  • The Prague Mysteries was a short but intriguing detective series set in Prague after the dissolution of the Austrian empire. I thought that it was pretty good.
  • The story line for Vexed was similar to that of The Mallorca Files. A straight-laced blonde female detective was paired with a wise-cracking lazy guy. It only lasted two seasons. The blonde in the first season was much better (and hotter) than the one in the second season. For some reason several of the shows in the second season were captioned in Portuguese.
  • Tubi has been my go-to site for Mystery Science Theater 3000. I did not realize that they had made so many of these shows. I also did not realize that there were so many really bad movies. I mean horrendously awful movies that someone presumably paid to watch. I liked the shows with Mike Nelson better than the ones with Joel Hodgson. The real stars were Joel’s robots, Tom Servo (voiced by Kevin Murphy) and Crow (Trace Beaulieu). I was impressed with Kevin’s singing ability, but Crow held a special place in my heart.

Amazon Prime

I subscribed to Amazon Prime just so that we could watch the second season of Mallorca Files. I intended to drop the subscription after we finished watching. However, we discovered quite a few series that we enjoyed quite a bit.

  • I watched Season 1 of Reacher on Freevee. I did not think that she would like it because it was so violent and she is not into body-building types. However, we both watched season 2 together and enjoyed it immensely.
  • In Plain Sight told the story of a small group of U.S. Marshals who managed members of the federal Witness Protection Program in Albuquerque. The writing was good. Mary McCormack and Fred Weller were both charismatic as the two stars. We watched all 61 episodes and liked them all.
  • We had watched an episode or two of Raising Hope on Freevee. It was created by Gregory Thomas Garcia, the brains behind the one-season wonder, Sprung. Two of the principal actors in Sprung had also appeared in RH. Sue and I liked RH, but Amazon wanted us to pay $3 per episode after the second one in the second season, and we demurred.
  • Mr. & Mrs. Smith won many awards in its first season. Donald Glover and Maya Erskine were exceptional. as was the writing.
  • I rewatched all of the episodes of Endeavour, some by myself and some with Sue. This time around I was greatly impressed by the writing of Russell Lewis, who wrote and “devised” every single complicated episode.
  • We both greatly enjoyed the first season of Deadloch, an Australian comedy/mystery about a serial killer in a beach town in Tasmanian that is dominated by lesbians.

Recorded

I had read Lonesome Dove, the truly epic novel by Larry McMurtry, twice before it was shown as a four-part made-for-television movie. It was the most entertaining book that I had ever read, and the movie was just as good. It was very true to the novel; only one character, Charles Goodnight, was left out. It won seven Emmy awards, but somehow Robert Duvall was denied one. We bought a tape of it and watched it a few more times. Prequels and sequels have also been made, but none was as good as the original.

Tom and John Barnaby hardly made a dent in the ongoing bloodbath in Midsomer.
  • Midsomer Murders has been on British television for over twenty years. It was set in an imaginary county called Midsomer that had only one town, Causton, which seemed to be surprisingly crime-free, and a large number of villages in which murder was as common as gossip. For the first decade of the series every single actor was white. Then the producer was changed, and subsequent every episode had one or more actor who was not white. Many of the murder weapons were outlandish. My favorite one was an episode in which two people were trampled to death by dairy cows in a barn.
  • Elementary was another Sherlock Holmes update. This one was set in New York City and featured a Dr. Joan Watson (Lucy Liu) and a suitably British Holmes (Jonny Lee Miller). This was a really good show that ran on CBS for seven years. The last few shows were weak. We recorded reruns on an off-brand network.
  • Sue and I discovered Resident Alien on Peacock. We watched the first season there and the second two on recordings of showings on the Syfy channel. Alan Tubyk played the title character, who came from another planet who took over the body of a doctor in a town in Colorado. Tubyk has been perfect throughout, and the rest of the cast has also been very good. It must have been difficult to come up with plausible scripts with this premise. The second and third seasons were, however, only slightly inferior to the first.
  • One of the first British shows that we watched on PBS was Father Brown, based on the mysteries written by G.K. Chesterton. The shows were set in a village in the Cotswolds. Mark Williams was perfect as the priest, and I especially liked Nancy Carroll as Lady Felicia.
  • Shakespeare and Hathaway was set in Stratford-Upon-Avon. The shows were mildly amusing, but the plots were never gripping, and—aside from haircuts—the characters never developed.
  • We watched two different versions of Wallander. The first season of the Swedish version was excellent, but it went swiftly downhill. I did not like the British version that starred Kenneth Brannagh. He even changed the pronunciation of the chief character’s name.
  • The Belgian version of Professor T. was weirdly delightful. Koen De Bouw played a criminology professor with extreme mental problems that included frequent interactions with hallucinations. The rest of the characters put up with him to varying levels. I missed some of the episodes. If I had a chance I would love to see them. Apparently it is available on PBS Passport.
  • Sue and I enjoyed the first season of Marie Antoinette, which focused on the teenager shipped from Vienna to live at Versailles. Evidently a second season has been filmed.

1. On the major networks a “season” once consisted of twenty-six or even more episodes. It was designed to run from the middle of fall to the end of spring. In the summer reruns or pilot productions were show. In other countries a season might consist of just a few episodes. Most of the Masterpiece and Mystery shows had only four or five episodes, but sometimes they exceeded the expected length of just under one hour.

2. I did not provide a link because when I looked on YouTube in 2024, I was unable to find the set of uploaded Morse episodes that I had watched.

3. I was astounded to discover that the screenplay antedated the novel. Many years earlier McMurtry tried to get it made as a feature film with John Wayne, James Stewart, and Henry Fonda. The project was scuttled when Wayne insisted on playing Gus McCrae.

2024 June: The Pro-Am in Nashua

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In “Pro-Am” events one player in each pair has a limited amount of experience, usually short of Life Master rank. Bob Bertoni ran such contests on Friday evenings at the sectionals sponsored by the Eastern Mass Bridge Association. As an … Continue reading →

In “Pro-Am” events one player in each pair has a limited amount of experience, usually short of Life Master rank. Bob Bertoni ran such contests on Friday evenings at the sectionals sponsored by the Eastern Mass Bridge Association. As an officer of District 25 he brought them to regional tournaments. The first one few were moderately successful. The last one before the pandemic, held in Nashua in June of 2018, was a huge success—21 tables! I attended the first Pro-Am, the last one, and all in between.

The last item discussed at the district’s Executive Committee meeting at the 2023 Gala in Marlborough, MA, was how to attract people to the evening games. At the last minute I, remembering that the Pro-Am had attracted so many players before the pandemic, suggested trying a Pro-Am pairs game. Susan Miguel, the district’s vice-president at the time, asked after the meeting if I would volunteer to “run it.” Thinking that she meant at the next tournament in February in Southbridge, I agreed.1

Well, the district’s February tournament was not held in Southbridge; it was in Mansfield, MA. Furthermore, it was not a real regional—it was limited regional with a simultaneous open sectional. So, there no Pro-Am was on its schedule.

There was a tournament in April in Southbridge, but Susan, who by this time was the president, wanted to have the Pro-Am at the June tournament, the Granite State Getaway, in Nashua, NH. I guess that I could have said no, but I did not want to go back on my word. She let me choose whether the event would be on Friday or Saturday. My wife Sue, who agreed to help with the project, and I selected Friday. I sent the first promotional mailing on Saturday, April 6. It is posted here.

While researching the 2016 event I discovered that one of the big attractions was the half-price entry fee. I emailed Sue Miguel to ask whether we could offer a similar incentive in 2024. Here was her incongruous reply.

This time we’ll charge the full amount BUT we’re going to make sure we have LOTS of things making it fun and are will be [sic]great to advertise.

For starters we’ll have special food. We can also offer raffles, prizes and a little trinket everyone can receive just for playing.

As soon as we wrap Southbridge, we’ll put our minds on it.

 Let’s see if we can find a theme to run with…

This sounded horrible to me. The atmosphere at a Pro-Am is less relaxed than the atmosphere in an Open Pairs game, but the theme is well established. Pros are there to give tips and confidence; Ams are there to get better. Both are there to get acquainted with someone from the other group.

That’s the theme!!!

I’ll make an ad but I need a couple of days to regroup and recover.

Directors in Hawaiian shirts, themed party food and gifts. Everyone gets a lai [sic] at the door.

Can’t wait….

Anyone for bridge?

I had to wonder if she had ever been to a luau. Most people who vacation in Hawaii for a few days attend one, but no one ever goes more than once. The hula dancing and the juggling of flaming torches are rather spectacular, but the food is secondary.

When I told my wife about this scheme, she had the same reaction that I did: “Are they going to make people eat poi?”

Anyway the only way that I could imagine to connect luaus to Pro-Am events was that professional hula dancers in grass skirts often tried to train unsuspecting (and usually intoxicated) amateur tourists in the art of hip swiveling. I doubted that we could persuade many people at a bridge tournament to participate in anything similar.

So, I decided to keep promoting it as an event with interesting bridge and painless learning without emphasizing the luau angle. Several people responded to my first email. Two volunteered as Pros. I was able to match Curtis Barton up with the only Am who responded, Daniel Sheinen. So, counting Sue and me, we now had one full table and one extra Pro.

On April 29 I received an email from Stuart Showalter, who had been appointed editor of a newsletter that Sue Miguel dreamed up.

Sue Miguel tells me you could write a short piece for the District 25 newsletter concerning the Pro-Am returning to Nashua. I think something about 250- 300 words would work well.  See the attached copy of our March issue. Your article could be along the lines of the “Bridge Fest Returns” article in that issue.

Thanks, and let me know if you have any questions.

I composed about 250 words and sent them to him with a bunch of photos. He thanked me, but I never saw a newsletter that contained any of them. Before writing this I looked on NEBridge.org for newsletters, but I found nothing.

On May 20 I sent an email to all of the non-Life Masters in the district with less than 750 masterpoints. It featured a photo of the hotel, some gold bricks that I found on the Internet, a full-width photo of the Pro-Am event in 2018, and a photo of a wahine throwing a shaka. I argued that Friday was the best day for a non-LM to attend the tournament. They could pick up some gold in the morning and afternoon at the Bracketed Open Pairs and get some tips from “pros” in a fun setting. It is posted here.

This email received quite a few responses. The one that I received from Sue Miguel was totally unexpected.

The countdown has begun to the Pro-Am. I can’t wait. Already have a date to play with Denise.

As much as we appreciate everything you’re doing to make the event a success, I have to remind you that the only person who is authorized to send out emails on behalf/for the District is Neil Montegue.

In addition, we added a new communications protocol to our governance routine…..ALL emails from EVERYONE (even me) need to be reviewed by Denise before they are sent. In this case, she would have pointed out you omitted Bridge FEST! from the list which is now going to create much confusion.  Also, we already had an email scheduled to go out today. We promised our members we wouldn’t be over sending emails and we need to adhere to what we promise.

Let me know if there is anything you need for the Pro-AM and keep us in the loop about the level of BUZZ you’re feeling.

Thanks again,

I immediately crafted this response:

I was unaware of any such “protocol”. I certainly never tried to edit or approve emails sent by authorized others when I was Communications  Manager. Nobody approved any emails that I sent.

The only BridgeFEST event on Friday is the bracketed pairs, which I definitely highlighted (although I did not use the term because I sent the email to all “Ams”, some of whom would presumably not be considered “New and Advancing Players”). It is difficult to promote a full-price red-points-only event held in the evening at a regional. I expect few (if any) players to participate who did not play on Friday. The only other event on Friday is an Open Swiss that is unlikely to appeal to many Ams. So, the focus of the email was on the unique bracketed pairs and the Pro-Am. I mentioned the Hawaiian theme, but I could not think of a way to tie it in to the Pro-Am, and the best Hawaiian foods are fresh fruits and freshly caught fish, neither of which are likely to be served in Nashua.

I hope to send out an email to Pros by the end of the weekend. I plan to emphasize three things: the bracketed pairs, the pleasure of playing with “advancing players” (unless you are married to one), and a wager that Sue and I have made as to whether more pros or ams will attend. I will send it to you and Denise for approval.

I had a few positive responses to the first email. One person asked if the pros could play for free. I matched up one pro with an am.

I did not mention that if she had told me that I would not be able to do my own marketing, I would never have agreed to manage this process in the first place. For the last couple of years I have submitted my emails for the Connecticut Bridge Association to the unit’s Communications Committee. The only negative comments were from Esther Watstein, and they always encourage more “WOW!”

The email that I proposed was ready to go on May 26. Denise, whom I hardly knew at all, kept it a few days and then sent it back to me with much of it rewritten. I was frankly insulted. Who did she think she was? I have written scores of emails promoting bridge. No one has ever tried to rewrite one. One of her complaints was that it was redundant. Nothing was internally redundant. Did she mean that it repeated information that was available elsewhere? It certainly did, but is that wrong? Of course not.

I replied as follows: “This is lifeless.”

She replied:

I am not sure what you are stating.  Most of your email has remained.  The lei insinuations have to be taken out. Some of our members would be offended.   Pls consider a happy medium and let me read another draft. I have offered to help. I am at the partnership desk every morning and during the break between games.  I would be happy to discuss this.

She left her phone number. The last thing that I wanted to do was to “discuss this” with her over the telephone. I would be trying to persuade her that I had much more experience and knowledge about how to persuade bridge players than she did. What do you think were the chances of being able to do that?

I wrote the following: “I am not going to argue about this. Send whatever you want, but leave my name off of the bottom.”

What they did send, a few days later was the following image with no text whatever:

Please note that it does not say anywhere where this will be held or the date. The email address on it was mine, but the reply-to address was not. Every inquiry that I received asked where and when it was. I had to apologize to them that that information had not been included.

I would never have sent an email that used the word “kahuna” to refer to a bridge event. Since the word has religious connotations, I probably would have avoided it entirely. Also, I noticed that the definitions of the three categories had changed from what Sue Miguel had told me previously. I had relayed the (suddenly erroneous) information to a few people who had asked about the event. All of this made me pretty angry because it made me look stupid or incompetent.

I decided to compose my own email and send it using my free MailChimp account. I made sure to make it clear that it was my personal requests, and I used my personal database and account. It did not violate the dictum: “the only person who is authorized to send out emails on behalf/for [sic] the District is Neil Montegue [sic].” On June 7 I sent it to all Life Masters in New England with more than 750 masterpoints. It is posted here.

910 people (68.3 percent of the addressees) opened this email, an astonishingly high number. I received many very positive responses. Some people volunteered to be Pros. Others said that they would have volunteered if they were going to be at the tournament on Friday.

On Monday June 10 I received an extremely disconcerting email from the ACBL. I scanned it and decided not to let it ruin my tournament. I postponed dealing with it when we returned from Nashua. The email and my response are discussed in the section below.

Sue and I divided the partnership task into two parts—making sure that everyone knew about the event and matching up “Pros” with “Ams”. Before the tournament we primarily used email to achieve the first goal. At the tournament we primarily relied on word-of-mouth. Sue also was asked to give an impromptu speech at one of the “”Fest” events.

I decided that we should use index cards to keep track of the people who wanted to play. There may be other ways of organizing a Pro-Am. If anyone had ever documented the process, I was unaware of it. I bought a pack of 100 at Target for the astounding price of $.80. According to the rules that Sue Miguel published, there would actually be three categories. Group 1 was composed of all non-Life Masters. Life Masters with over 750 masterpoints were in Group 3. Group 2 was the other Life Masters. In actual fact the only player in the middle category who contacted me was John Lloyd. He played with an Am.

We filled out a card for each player. I bought a Sharpie with a very wide nib. On each card we placed a very prominent P, A, or 2 to designate the category that the play was in. I waited until June 7 to do this so that I could use the most up-to-date rosters for the ranks and masterpoints.

If both a Pro and an Am contacted me, I sent an email to the Pro and asked him/her/them to contact the Am. Only one Pro told me that “it was not a good fit”. Every other Pro contracted the Am in question and both agreed to play. By the time that the tournament started we had matched up enough Pros with Ams that we were fairly certain of at least a four-table game. I used a paper clip to keep the matched-up pairs together.

I had also heard from several Pros who reportedly were not only coming but were actively working to increase attendance. I expected to discover a lot of activity concerning the event in Nashua. When we left on Tuesday afternoon I was projecting ten or so tables, a very respectable turnout that would mean that we could have a standard Mitchell movement.

Sue had a different idea about contacting people. She asked me to provide her with a database of Ams that she could manipulate on her ancient Hewlett-Packard laptop. She had somehow obtained a copy of Word and Excel, but she had almost no idea how to use them. I made a CSV file for her, put it on a flash drive, and gave it to her. I then showed her how to upload it into Excel. She spent several days working on this, and I had to be available for technical support for this entire period to teach her the control keys, how to select a large number of cells rapidly, and the vagaries of sorting.

She planned to contact people whom she knew personally, but she apparently ran out of time. As far as I know, she only talked with one or two people and received no commitments. Still, she invested a great deal of time, at least as much as I did.

This poster was attached to the mirror behind our table when I arrived on Thursday morning.

On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday mornings I arrived at a table in the information/partnership area of the hotel at 9am. I brought with me a resealable plastic bag that contained all of the index cards and the Sharpy. On all three mornings I got a cup of coffee and, except on the morning that Sue and I ate breakfast together, a bagel or roll from the concession area that was right across the hall from our table. No one ever approached the table to inquire about the Pro-Am game. It was a complete waste of time.

A better strategy would have been: 1) create handouts that explained the essence of the events and 2) wear something that identified me as the Pro-Am guy. I should then have gone out at 9:10 and 9:40, milled about with the players seated at the tables, distribute handouts, and inquire about interest and questions. This might have gotten a few more Ams interested in playing and would have made me feel less like an idiot for sitting idly at the table.

Meanwhile my wife never made it downstairs before the games started at 10. I was never sure what she did all day long while the rest of us were playing, but later discovered evidence that she had tried to put together her own list of who was going to play with whom on Friday evening.

Friday was different. By that time I had four or five unmatched Pros lined up and no Ams to pair them with. I abandoned the card system and instead kept two lists—one of unmatched Pros (memorized) and one of unmatched Ams (written). As soon as I learned of an Am, I chased down a Pro and tried to create a match. By Friday evening I still had a few matches to make. I was not too surprised when four or five pros came to the event unannounced. They were all friends of mine or friends of friends. I matched up as many as I could. In the end we had thirty-three pairs.

Even though someone allowed a pair of Pros to play together to avoid a sitout, I still had to send away a handful of unmatched Pros. The dismissal that bothered me the most was John Berry, a New Yorker who often attends events in New England. He had contacted me earlier in the week. I had given him a card with the name, email address, and phone number of an Am2 who had contracted me just before we left for Nashua. John tried both methods of communication, but he received no replies.

Three or four times I encountered an unmatched Am in the few minutes before the game I immediately sought out John Berry. On every occasion I could not find him in the chaos, and instead I placed them with the first unmatched Pro that I encountered. When I saw John on Saturday I apologized to him.

The Pro-Am game was a seventeen-table Mitchell. We played nine two-board rounds. Sue and I sat at table #2 North-South.

Every few rounds Sue Miguel interrupted play to present Hawaii-oriented door prizes to people. One went to the oldest player (99); one went to people who had been to Hawaii since the pandemic. I don’t remember the others.

The winning pair consisted of two guys from New Hampshire, Dan Maguire (one of the very first Pros to tell me that he would attend) and Graham Woerner. Note: When putting the finishing touches on this entry I tried to use the index page for the winners boards on NEBridge.org to find a photo of Dan. It had been deleted without warning.

I brought my camera, but I never felt like taking any photos. I didn’t feel like playing either, but I had committed to do so.

The “hospitality” consisted of two items. I tried the pizza that contained chunks of cheese and pineapple after the event when it was quite cold. I found it abominable. The other was chicken wings kept in a metallic semi-cylinder that clanged shut with a very large bang several times during the event. Neither Sue nor I tried the wings, but Sue noted that someone sitting South who had played the cards that she received must have. Her cards were sticky.

There was no coffee. I asked Sally Kirtley, the Tournament Manager, about this. She said that she thought that she had ordered it.

A renowned party-pooper, I found the interruptions and the theme-oriented food quite annoying. However, I must admit that everyone else seemed to be having a good time.

Here is the email that I received on June 10 from Gwynn Garthright, who identified herself as a “Marketing Specialist at the ACBL”:

Dear Mr. Wavada,

We have been informed of a recent communication you distributed to members of District 25 regarding an upcoming bridge event, which appears to have been sent on behalf of a club.

As stipulated in our Terms of Use, clubs are only permitted to use the personal contact information of members who have played at that specific club. We have received complaints from members who have not played at this club but nonetheless received your email.

Furthermore, while you are member of the District 25 Board of Directors, only district officers are authorized to use this list to promote a sanctioned bridge event. According to our records, you are listed as a teacher, and any communications you send to this list should be restricted to matters related to learning bridge.

Please remember that privacy laws regarding email marketing are very strict. When a member joins the ACBL, they only consent to what is outlined in the privacy policy and terms of use. Violations of these policies may result in disciplinary action by the ACBL, as per the ACBL’s Code of Disciplinary Regulations, and could potentially lead to civil lawsuits.

Note that merely having an unsubscribe option does not suffice. The policy explicitly prohibits contacting members who have not played at your club.

Any further violation of the ACBL’s Terms of Use may be reported to the ACBL’s Ethics Department.

Thank you for your attention in this matter.

I deliberately postponed researching an answer to this email until after the tournament. I did not want to spoil my concentration, and I did not want it to make me so angry that I was unable to enjoy anything about the experience.

I checked the “Terms of Use” that are currently posted on the “My ACBL” website that allowed me to download roster. Sure enough, the version dated September 2023 stipulated that only officers of districts and units could send out emails and that club owners/managers could only send emails to people who had already played at the club.

I sent this email in response:

It is hard for me to respond to this email since I do not know who you are. What does a Marketing Specialist do? I find it surprising that you would be involved in suppressing marketing.

Let me introduce myself. I have been a member of the ACBL for over twenty years. I belong to two clubs. I am on the Board of Trustees of the Hartford Bridge Club, which is the oldest in North America and the largest in New England. The other club is the Simsbury Bridge Club, an informal group that tries to scrape together a game on Wednesday evenings. I have been on the Board of Unit 126 for at least a decade. I am also on the Board of Delegates and the Executive Committee, the governing organizations for District 25, and have been so for several years. Prior to 2023 I spent ten years as the webmaster, database manager, communications chairman, and bulletin writer for the district. I also served as the email marketing director for the Summer NABC in Providence, RI. I have been on the ACBL’s Goodwill Committee for about a decade.

I apologize for the delay in responding to this email. For the last week  I have been in Nashua, NH, at the regional tournament. My wife and I organized and promoted the Friday evening Pro-Am game, which attracted seventeen tables.

Over the last decade I have sent well over one million emails promoting bridge events in New England on behalf of both clubs, the unit, and the district. I think that it is fair to say that I actually invented email marketing for bridge events. Before I began downloading rosters in 2013 I read the Terms of Use very carefully and consulted with the officers of the district and unit to make sure that what I was doing was within what was allowed. I have never made a penny on any of these projects. Incidentally I have received hundreds of complimentary comments about my email projects. NO ONE has ever complained to me about them except for two people who thought that I should not have mentioned the Lone Ranger’s faithful Indian companion, Tonto, in one of them.

I am not really a teacher. For two years I volunteered to teach bridge at two middle schools in Springfield, MA, with the late Bob Derrah. I received no pay, but they did honor us as the Volunteers of the year in the Springfield school district. I have mentored many newer bridge players over the decades officially as part of the HBC’s mentoring program and unofficially because I love the game. I am NOT a professional teacher, and I have never received a penny for my efforts in that area.

I have sent no emails for the unit in the last year or so. The only emails that I have sent for the district were to promote the Pro-Am game described above. I probably will never send another email for the district. It took over a year to find people who were willing and able to do what I had done for a decade, but they are now handling those areas. I sometimes advise them on technical matters, but they make the marketing decisions.

That leaves the clubs. I have promoted two events for the HBC. The first was a set of limited sectionals that were held at the club’s building. These one-day events were wildly successful, drawing 57, 35, and 50 tables of non-Life Masters. The other was to promote the beginner lessons that were conducted by one of the club’s teachers. I wrote to players within fifty miles of Hartford asking them if they knew anyone who would be interested in taking these lessons. Unfortunately, the response was less than we hoped to achieve.

So, I must assume that the complaint is about my emails to potential players at the Simsbury Bridge Club. I have no access to any list of players at the club, which struggles to attract more than three or four tables to its weekly games. So, I have sent invitations to players in the area. Does the ACBL really want me to stop doing this? I have received dozens of replies from people who received them. Nearly all expressed thanks. A few people asked me to take them off the list (which they could have done themselves with one click). I, of course, promptly complied in every case.

The SBC has only one game per week on Wednesday evenings. No club within driving distance conducts games at that time. No one could conceivably have been materially injured. Could you please provide me with the name of the coward who contacted you about this? In America people are allowed to confront their accusers. I can hardly believe that someone would take legal action about something as innocuous as inviting people to play bridge on Wednesday evenings. If he or she had contacted me in person–nearly all bridge players in the area know me–I am sure that I could have addressed their concerns. If they wanted help with their own marketing, I probably would have helped. I have done it several times.

I must say that the rule that clubs can only contact people who have already played in their games is profoundly stupid. How in the world does the ACBL expect existing clubs to attract enough people to sustain the game if they cannot use direct marketing? Moreover, what if I wanted to start a new club? I have been asked to do so in my home town of Enfield, CT, many times. Are you telling me that I would not be able to use my email marketing skills and experience to promote it? If your specialty really is marketing, can you not realize how inane this is?

If the ACBL decides to take civil action against me, I should warn you that it will not be lucrative. I have never received any income whatever from any of my efforts.

Emails like yours infuriate volunteers like me and often impel us to wash our hands of the bureaucratic nonsense that has caused appreciation of our beautiful game to to deteriorate over time.

I copied Bronia Jenkins, the ACBL’s Executive Director, Regional Director Mark Aquino, Donna Feir, Sally Kirtley, and Peter Marcus3.

The only one who replied was Peter. His harangue included an accusation that I was hostile to Hawaiians because I made fun of poi.

In the end I told Gwynn that I would never do any marketing for the district and that I would only send emails to members of the clubs to which I belong. Only the second bothered me; I had no plans to volunteer for anything at the district level ever again. The restriction on club mailing will, in my opinion, probably lead to the demise of the Simsbury Bridge Club. It may also have a severe effect on the success of the HBC’s limited sectionals.

Nobody with whom I have talked thinks that the concern about privacy is a reasonable justification for the ACBL’s restrictions on direct marketing.

This whole affair left me depressed about the state of bridge. I had a hard time convincing myself to get out of bed in the morning.

1. This was a mistake. I should have remembered the admonition from my drill sergeant on the very first day of basic training: “Never volunteer for anything.” Of course, he amended that a few minutes later, as described here.

2. Suresh Subramanian, of Action, PA, attended the tournament and received .55 masterpoints. I do not understand why he did not return John’s calls and messages. I searched through the results to try to figure out what event(s) he played in, but I was unsuccessful.

3. At first I thought that this might have been about weekly emails that I sent for the Simsbury Bridge Club. However, Peter’s vituperative response made me think that it was actually prompted by my “personal” email about the Pro-Am. Sue Miguel probably talked with Peter about it and the emails that I sent out promoting the Hartford Bridge Club’s fantastically successful non-Life Master Sectionals (documented here). I could be wrong, but it now seems clear to me that she and Peter ratted me out to the ACBL. She was probably upset that I bypassed the “protocols” for emails that she invented, and he still felt enmity about the humiliation that resulted from the brouhaha about Tonto. They both were, in my opinion, bullies.

2024 April: More Water in the Basement

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Second flood. Continue reading →

As I had done on nearly every Saturday for quite a few years, I played bridge with Peter Katz at the Hartford Bridge Club on April 6, 2024. I thought that we both played pretty well, especially against the best players, but we did not get a very good score. Part of that was due to a few hands that were bid very strangely by the opponents. The one that stood out for me was hand #9.

Peter and I were sitting East-West against Xenia Coulter and Nancy Calderbank. Xenia opened 2♠. I can understand why she did. She surely wants to bid, and the hand does not meet the rule of 20. Hers might be the only conceivable hand that I would bid with only ten points and only one five-card suit. I would not bid 2♠. I can think of many hands that would deliver ten tricks that I would pass opposite that bid, which could be made with only five points.

Peter, playing East, could not find a bid. Nancy for some reason decided to bid 3♠. I can see passing, and I can see bidding 4♠ to force the opponents to enter the bid at the five-level. I would never have bid 3♠.

In fact, I probably would have bid 5♠, the bid that the LAW of total tricks prescribes in this situation, assuming that North’s bid showed six spades. This bid would force one the opponents either to double a not-vulnerable contract or bid a slam with no idea of the partner’s holding.

If Nancy had passed, I would certainly have bid 3♥, and we would probably have found the slam. As it was, I did not have the temerity to enter the auction at the four-level. I passed, as did Xenia. Peter took a long time before he, too, passed. If Nancy had bid 4♠ or 5♠, I am sure that he would have doubled or bid notrump to show two places to play. In any of those cases my response would have been in hearts.

We ended up winning a lousy fifty match points on a hand that we were cold for a grand slam in either clubs or hearts.

So, only the combination of a peculiar opening bid and an inexplicable response left us tongue-tied. I guess that it was my fault. An old bridge aphorism states that one never preempts a preempt. In this case, however, the fact that both opponents showed spade length and some weakness maybe should have prompted me to think that I could count on Peter for four tricks. It was that kind of day.

When I arrived home from bridge I told Sue about the hand. She was surprised that it was legal to open Xenia’s hand at the two-level. I don’t know what she would have done instead. A pass certainly would be sinful with a hand that had the AKQJ of spades and a fifth one.

With this and other hands still on my mind I descended to the basement to spend some time watching MHZ Choice while using my rowing machine. I immediately noticed that there was a little bit of water on the floor in that corner of the basement. It wasn’t enough to be overly concerned about, but I resolved to tell Sue about it.

I watched the fifth episode of season 2 of The Bridge, a fictional police drama about a detective in Sweden who works with a detective in Denmark1, on MHZ Choice on my laptop. The reception was less than optimal. Because of repetitive delays for buffering it took forty-five minutes to watch the first half hour. Then I quit and went upstairs.

When I told Sue about the water in the basement, she asked if we had any leftover kitty litter. She suggested that we use it to absorb the water. I said that I was pretty sure that we did. I went back downstairs to check. The litter box and the box of litter were in the new part of the basement. When I opened the door between the two parts of the basement, I was surprised to see about an inch of water covering the entire floor of the new part.

It was time for supper. I resolved that early on Sunday morning I would repeat the laborious process that I did for the aftermath of Hurricane Ida in September of 2021. That effort is documented here with a good deal of detail and photos.

I got out of bed at about 2:00 a.m., found the extension cord and my wet-shoes, and filled ten barrels of the Sears equivalent of the Shop-Vac. The amount of water that I removed made almost no visible impact. I then went back to sleep.

On Sunday I opened the hatchway door on the northern side of the new basement at about noon. Fortunately the weather was clear and seasonably mild. I also filled another eighteen barrels. This was far less than my plan, but being two and half years older is very meaningful when one is in his mid-seventies. I was exhausted after four barrels, and both my lower back and the sides of my legs were aching.

I went back down and was pleasantly surprised to see that the level of the water was lower than I had left it on Sunday evening. After I had filled seven more barrels, there were still two small puddles, but I hoped that by Tuesday morning the dehumidifier and natural evaporation would seriously reduce or eliminate them.

My plan did not work. I filled two barrels on Tuesday morning. That cleared a path to the door, but it filled back in before I could leave. I did a barrel and a half on Tuesday afternoon. Some progress was made, but the two remaining areas, near the north wall and about twenty feet south of there were obviously going to fill back in with water.

On Wednesday I sucked up one full barrel and another perhaps one-third full. Because the hatch door was closed, I could not gauge my progress near the door. Most of the remaining water is along the north wall. It took another three days before I was able to suck up enough water for it to dry out completely.

I suspected that the water came from the depression beneath the deck outside of Sue’s bedroom. When the water table was exceptionally high water must have seeped in through the north wall and flowed downhill after that.

I swore more often this time than in 2021. I did not want to contemplate the possibility that flooding had become a repetitive occurrence. The weather in Connecticut seemed to have become much more tropical than in the previous decades. I did not miss the snow, but I have become too old to deal with the flooding. Also, the fact that I was continually obstructed by the mountains of useless junk in the basement turned my attitude bitter. I longed for an apartment and a landlord.

1. The two countries are connected by the Øresund Bridge that is almost five miles long.

2024 Bridge: Sectional Tournaments

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Silver points games. Continue reading →

Johnston Sectional in March: In January of 2024 Abhi Dutta asked me to play with him at the Rhode Island sectional tournament scheduled for March 2-3. I could not play on Saturday because it was my wife Sue’s birthday, but I agreed to play in the Swiss on Sunday. Abhi was out of town for most of the month of February, but he contacted me late in the month to report that he had acquired teammates. In Johnston I learned that our teammates were the DiOrios, Lou and Megan. I had worked with Megan on the committee for the NABC event in Providence in 2022 (introduced here), and I had played on a team with Lou some time before that.

I was not sanguine about our chances. The partnership of Abhi and me had really recorded only one good result (described here), and that was nineteen months earlier. Our more recent games were not memorable. I also did not remember great successes recorded for either Lou or Megan. The fact that we drew #13 did not raise my hopes, although I always remind people that for Wilt Chamberlain that number was reportedly lucky 20,000 times.2

In the first round Abhi and I played against Al Votolato and someone whom I did not know. The very first hand was weird. Al’s partner opened 1♦ in the second seat; Abhi passed; Al responded 1♠; I passed, and so did Al’s partner! Abhi made the mistake of doubling, which gave Al a chance to bid 2♦, which was the final contract. I asked Al if they had an agreement that allowed his partner to pass his response. He said that he was as surprised as I was. His partner at first defended his pass, but when he understood the situation he said that he did not realize that he had passed.

In the end, even though they were an A team, and we were a B team, we defeated them 29-0, which was a “blitz” that converted to the maximum victory point score of 20. We scored at least one imp on six of the seven hands, and the seventh hand was a push.

In the second round we played another A team, Dan Jablonski and Cilla Borras. They were both very good players whom I had played against several times. I made a horrible mistake in playing a 5♣ contract that Abhi put me in. For some reason I thought that we had nine trumps, not eight. I was therefore quite confident of making the bid when I dropped Dan’s queen on the second round of trumps. A little later, however, I mistakenly led a low diamond from the board. Cilla, who was on my right, ruffed it, and I underruffed even though I had a diamond! I took the requisite eleven tricks, but I was penalized one trick for revoking. Abhi insisted that he warned me when I did it.1

This faux pas cost us 11 imps. We would have lost the match anyway, but our running total of victory points was four fewer—21 as opposed to 25. This was not all bad because we got to play a much weaker B team in the third round, and we beat them 31-0—another blitz.

In the last round before lunch we played a much better B team, Mike McDonald and Tom Floyd. We beat them by 12 imps. At the break we had amassed 56 out of a possible 80 victory points. That was good enough for second place.

I had ordered a salad for lunch. I ate about half of it as well as a bag of chips and a Diet Coke. I sat by myself. I don’t know where my teammates went.

In the fifth round we played the team that was in first place. It included Sheila Gabay and Alan Watson, who had won both sessions of the pairs game on Saturday. The foursome had blitzed both of their last two opponents. Abhi and I played against another very fine pair, Max Siline and Carrie Liu. On the first hand I made 3NT, and our Sheila and Alan had a misunderstanding in their bidding. That was enough for a ten-imp swing, but we would have won the match anyway. The final score was 30-13. Abhi and I had no negative scores at all. I was wondering if it were possible to lose with no negative scores (Yes!), and I was worried that I would find out. I had played against Sheila’s teams at least six or seven times, and I had never won before.

I thought that I played pretty well in the sixth round, but we lost by 16 points to a very good B team. It seemed to me that most of the problems were at the other table. I was most proud of the fact that two of our twelve imps came from when I passed in the fourth seat.

In the last round we played against people whom I did not know. I again passed in the fourth seat, and this time it was worth five imps. Since our margin of victory in this match was only nine imps, I was very surprised to learn that we had won the event by two victory points over both the Siline team and the team from the Hartford Bridge Club (HBC)—Tom Gerchman, Linda Starr, and Bob and Ann Hughes. I was still in a foul mood because at the very end of the last hand Abhi had trumped a trick that I would have won anyway. That mistake cost us six imps, which would have given us two additional victory points. Even so, we brought home 7.15 silver masterpoints.

I did not receive much satisfaction from this result. I had made one huge and embarrassing mistake, and Abhi had made several smaller ones. However, out teammates were very excited about winning. They even asked Tom Gerchman (of all people) to take a photo of the four of us with a cellphone. He had a great deal of difficulty with the assignment.

Was our victory a fluke? I thought so at the time, but after examine the results, I am more inclined to think that we were the best team that day with that set of cards in a fairly weak field. We played all but one of the top teams. We never played against a C team. We beat the top-seeded team decisively in our match with them. We could easily have had quite a few more victory points than we did.

I still had a ninety-minute drive ahead of me. The traffic was slow, and for the first half hour the sun was really brutal even though I had on sunglasses and pulled down the visor as low as I could get it. The high temperature that day was 67 degrees.

On the way home I stopped at Big Y in Stafford and bought a cake for Sue. I should have done it so she could have enjoyed a piece on her birthday, but this was much better than nothing.

St. Patrick’s Day Sectional in Orange, CT: Bill Segraves did a tremendous job of setting up and running this tournament, which occurred the weekend of March 15-17. I am glad that he took the job of president. I would not have had the energy to pull something like this off. The date was the best that could be arranged, but it conflicted with the first weekend of the NABC spring tournament in Louisville. So, undoubtedly some of the best players could be expected to be at that event. That date also meant that it might be difficult to find a director. Robert Neuhart from Troy, NY, was hired. I had no previous familiarity with him.

The design and promotion of this tournament was much better than what was done for the previous ones. I thought that the St. Patrick’s Day theme, which I in fact suggested, was a little overdone, but people seemed to be having fun with it. I planned on wearing on Sunday my bright green sweater that my dad bought in Ireland. Before play started Bill paraded around in a hooded green jumpsuit and a green mask. To goose the Sunday attendance the games on Sunday were designated to support the Grass Roots fund.

A decision was made to increase the masterpoint limit for the Friday and Saturday limited pairs games to 750 masterpoints, but only non-Life Masters were allowed to play. This turned out to be a good decision. The limited games, which had been a problem, were pretty well attended throughout.

I decided to play all three days. Eric Vogel agreed to play with me in the pairs games on Friday and Saturday. I had difficulty finding a suitable partner and teammates for the Sunday Swiss. I sent out a solicitation to my usual list of potential partners, but the only responses that I received were from Buz Kohn, Joan Brault, and Terry Lubman. Terry said that she was still in Florida. Buz was the first to respond positively, but he backed out shortly thereafter. So, I agreed to play with Joan. No one expressed any interest in teaming up with us. So, I sent a request to the email address for partnerships that was on the flyer. Bill replied with an email that indicated that he would find someone. He eventually assigned us to play with Ivan Smirnov from Staten Island and Joe Lanzel from Foxborough, MA. I told Ivan that I would be wearing a bright green sweater with “Ireland” on the chest.

I commuted all three days by myself. Each trip to Orange took a little over an hour, but that included my usual stop at the McDonald’s in Cromwell to purchase a sausage biscuit with egg sandwich. The price at the McD at the end of the ramp for Exit 21 charged a dime less than the one in Hartford. However, the man taking the order on Sunday entered it as “sausage biscuit, add folded egg.” The cost was almost $1 less.

I left each day at about 8:25 and arrived at 9:30. The traffic was heavier on Friday, but it did not really slow me down. A strange thing happened with my car in the mornings. I was accustomed to turning on the front window defogger on cold days. This heated up the car on Saturday, but on Sunday it blew nothing but cold air.4

The return trips were as uneventful as the morning drives, except for the Sunday evening drive. The line of cars backed up on the parkway at the exit that led to I-91 north was more than a mile long. It took me more than ninety minutes to complete that trip.

I decided to wear a mask throughout the tournament. Almost no one except Bill and Frank Blachowski wore one.

Since I arrived on Friday morning before Eric did, I got in line to buy our entry fee. For some reason the director did not allow purchasing of both sessions. I charged the first session. Eric later bought the afternoon session. There was no problem with the transactions on Friday and Saturday. However, the computer connection with the card reading device did not work on Sunday. and so everyone had to pay in cash. I was the customer for whom the malfunction first was discovered. I don’t know if the problem was ever fixed.

The first thing that I noticed about the pairs games on Friday was that Peter Marcus was in attendance and was actually playing with Bill Segraves to fill out the movement. I had seen him at many tournaments, but I had only seen him play bridge once, and that was at the HBC.

The second peculiarity was that there were no clocks to keep track of the time remaining in each round. I cannot remember ever playing in a tournament in which there were no clocks. I never heard why this was the case in Orange. Perhaps the unit has depended on the directors to bring them.

Once play began it was pretty evident that, although the attendance was good (seventeen tables), the field was not as strong as it usually was. That was definitely reflected in the results. Eric and I were in first place after six rounds, but in the last round we were passed by a C team from the HBC, John Lloyd and Donna Simpson. We still won 5.84 points. I did not think that we played particularly well.

Eric and I had two egregious bidding mistakes in the morning session, but only one of them hurt us. Eric had apparently not reviewed our card thoroughly enough.

On one hand we were on defense after I had opened 1♠. I led the ace and then the queen. Eric ruffed it. After the hand I explained that when I led ace and then queen of a suit that I had bid, it meant that I also had the king. He asked why I didn’t just lead the king after the ace. I said that if I did, he would not know that I also had the queen.

Our level of play did not diminish in the afternoon, but our results dropped off a lot. I did not circle a single hand on the scorecard. We finished above 50 percent, but we did not make the overalls, and so we did not get any points.

We actually played better on Saturday. We earned over 9.37 masterpoints over the course of two days. That was not close to Rich DeMartino’s total. He won all three pairs games in which he participated.

We might have gone over the ten-point mark if Eric had not made an uncharacteristic blunder near the end. Acting as declarer, he intended to set up a cross-ruff for the last three tricks, but he discarded the wrong card from his hand. That left him with a heart and two trumps in both hands.

A strange situation occurred on Saturday. The opponent on my right was about to declare a hand. His partner was in the act of setting down the dummy when he accidentally dropped most of his cards on the floor. I did not look, but he said that some were face-up. He said that he was not able to get down on his knees to pick them up, and therefore he called the director, who was also not very spry. I volunteered to put my lead on the table and gather together the cards, but the director insisted on doing it himself.

Eric and I bid a slam in spades after he had opened 2♣. He had hearts and spades. We decided to change our response to the 2♠ follow-up so that the relay to 2NT could be broken if responder had spade support. This eliminated the ambiguity of the sequence 2♣-22♦-2♠-2NT-32♥-4♠. Previously it could have meant signing off in spades or Kickback for hearts.

Ordering lunch was embarrassing. I only wrote the six letters of my last name, but on both occasions the result was almost unreadable.

By the way, both lunches were good. The only problem with Friday’s salad with lots of meat and cheese on Friday was that the only beverage available was a small bottle of water. The sandwich on Saturday was even meatier. This caterer also brought cans of soft drinks. There were only two Diet Cokes, but I managed to claim one. The pizza on Sunday was OK, but the pairs game was still in process when the ninety-six people playing in the Swiss went to lunch. Usually there is enough pizza for seconds, but by the time that the pairs players ate, the teams were back in combat.

Our first round was against Debbie Prince’s team. We won by seven. In the second round we were blasted by 26 imps by a very good team. Joan and I thought that we had more or less held our own, but no hands showed positive results. Our teammates failed to set a 4♠ contract that I could see no way to make. They also bid an impossible slam that got doubled. We won the third round by 13 imps over a C team.

After lunch we played Mike Heider’s team. The results on two 3NT contracts startled me. On one I went down, and they made it at the other table. On the other they made it at our table with two overtricks, but our teammates did not even make the bid. In the fifth round we faced the team from the HBC that had done well in Johnston. Joan and I played against Ann and Bob Hughes. We thought that we had done pretty well, but we were worried about one hand on which we bid 3♠ but made 4. In reality, that hand was our only positive result in an extremely painful 17-imp loss.

Halfway through the sixth round against a team that obviously was over its head I lost interest and started playing badly. Nevertheless, we won the last two matches by 21 and 5 points to finish with four wins and 70 victory points—exactly average.

Our worst hand all day was the last one. We were playing Cappelletti, the only notrump defense that Joan will play. Cindy Lyall, sitting West, opened 1NT, and Joan doubled for penalty. I had a flat hand with only one honor, a queen. Cindy ended up making 3NT for 380 points. It would have been better for them to bid and make 3NT, but at the other table Joe went down in 1NT. Since I did nothing except follow suit and discard the four spot cards in hearts that I was dealt, I have no way to know whether Joan’s defense or Joe’s declarer play was more to blame for this fiasco.

Shekhar and Shashank won the afternoon session of the 0-750 pairs! They won almost three silver points in their first day at a tournament.

The attendance at the tournament was good through the entire weekend. That proved to me that good planning, good marketing, and a good schedule are still the keys to successful attendance in the world of tournament bridge.

Summer on the Sound Sectional in Stamford, CT: The tournament was held at the Annunciation Greek Orthodox Church on August 9-11. No one asked me to play, and it is a very long drive for me. So, I did not attend. The attendance was good: 57 tables on Friday, 50.5 on Saturday, and 52.5 on Sunday.

I heard from Mike Heider that they ordered far too many pizzas on Sunday. He said that at least a dozen boxes of them were being given away at the end of the tournament.

Western Mass Championships in Great Barrington, MA; The annual tournament in Great Barrington, MA, began on my 76th birthday. I had played with Abhi Dutta in this event in both 2022 and 2023. Our teammates in the Sunday Swiss in those events were Mike Heider and Jim Osofsky. They also agreed to team up in 2024.

The weather forecast was for some rain on Saturday night and Sunday because of Hurricane Ernesto, which was in the Atlantic Ocean heading northeast. It was not expected to land, but locations near the ocean had really been deluged.

On Saturday morning the weather was clear. I took the Mass Pike to Lee and then drove south to GB. I stopped at the McDonald’s near the Berkshire South Regional Community Center that hosted the tournament every year. The event was being held in the gymnasium. I remembered from previous years that it was somewhat cold in there at times, and so I brought my nylon windbreaker, even though it has picked up a few bullet holes over the years.

Tables and chairs replaced the exercise equipment.

When I arrived in the gym I found a table near the back of the building and ate my sandwich while wearing my jacket. The director, Tim Hill, began selling entries a little after I arrived. By the time that I finished the sandwich the line for purchasing entries was pretty long. I had nothing better to do, and so I got in line. The entries cost $15 per session, and the credit card reader was working. I bought both entries for Saturday and let Abhi buy the Sunday entry. We started as E-W at table V5, which happened to be the same table at which I ate breakfast.

I accidentally sat in the East chair. I almost never play East. Perhaps I should have switched as soon as I noticed it.

Before the event started Mike Ramella conducted some sort of raffle. The acoustics in the gym were deplorable, and very few people were able to understand anything that he said. A woman also gave a presentation promoting some kind of show. She carried a poster about it. I couldn’t understand what she said either.

In the morning there were two sections in the open pairs and one five-table Howell in the 299er pairs. There were 21.5 pairs in the open.

The morning session was chaotic. Somehow the BridgeMates got fouled up, and the results (and player numbers) for the first few rounds were lost.

For some reason Abhi and I made games when we bid partials and slams when we bid games. Our opponents made mistake, but they always seemed to end in the right spot.

Abhi failed to take advantage of a once-in-a lifetime situation on hand #6: I opened a strong 1NT, and he had a hand with seven hearts and only four losers. After trying Stayman (because he also had four good spades), Abhi jumped to 4♥, which I passed after mulling over what in the world had possessed him. He easily made 6♥.

I could not immediately concoct a “scientific” bidding sequence that could find the slam. On Sunday morning I wrote up a better sequence that had him start with a transfer and then used cue bidding. At the end he would jump to 5♦ or 5♥ and leave the final decision to me. Because I had prime values, I would have certainly bid the slam.

I did not even check the results for the first round. I was sure that we were in the forties, which would be a miserable score. We had correctly been placed in the A strat. Most of the players in attendance had much less experience than I did.

I only enjoyed two moments. The first was when we had time after the against Debbie Prince and Janice Bazzini, whom I knew from the HBC. Debbie remarked that she could not come to the Simsbury Bridge Club games because her book club met on Wednesday evenings. I asked her if she had ever heard of John Banville. She said that she had not, but she wrote down his name. On Sunday I brought two of his books to loan her, but the two ladies did not play on Sunday.

The other good moment was also at the end of a round. Elizabeth Gompels, who lived in Cambridge, whom Abhi knew much better than I did, thanked me for all that I had done for bridge in New England. I told her that I no long did the emails or website. I also told her that all my pages on the website had been deleted. She was duly sympathetic to my frustration.

The sandwiches at lunch were tiny but tasty. I had tuna. They also provided chips, soda, and dessert. The previous lunches that I had had at this tournament were not to my liking, and I do not have high standards.

The afternoon session was much better. The only embarrassment was when Abhi forgot what defense we were playing against a weak 1NT opening. The opponents, Al Votolato and Grace Charron, asked what Abhi’s double meant. I said that he had a strong hand with at least fourteen points. Actually, he had a long suit and a mediocre hand.

The 299er pairs game had too few participants. Those people had to play in the open pairs, which had 24 tables in two sections. We placed fourth in our section, which earned us .84 masterpoints.

The drive back to Enfield was uneventful. Sue heated up some leftover pork chops. We watched Person of Interest and Raising Hope together.

Patty Tucker and Robert Minter have published books on Kickback.

The weather was still dry when I left on Sunday morning. I arrived at the gym and almost immediately saw Judy Hyde, with whom I planned to play in the regional tournament in Warwick a few weeks later. We sat together for a few minutes. I briefly explained the Minorwood, Redwood, and Kickback5 versions of Roman Key Card Blackwood to her. She then had to rush off to talk with her partner for that day, Philippe Galaski.

When Abhi arrived, I went over Hand #6 (above) with him as well as two somewhat obscure variations on the Stayman convention.

In the first round we faced Mike Ramella’s team. I thought that we had won easily, but I did not realize that Abhi had been conservative with an eight-card club suit, which caused us to miss another game. In addition, our teammates had a serious bidding misunderstanding. We ended up losing by four IMPs. We then defeated two C-strat teams, but only by nine IMPs and 1 IMP respectively.

The lunch was rather strange. They only allowed people to take one piece of pizza, and they only offered two choices—vegetarian and pepperoni. Chips, soda, and home-made desserts were available. I ordinarily avoided dessert, but on this occasion I ate two cookies because of the limit on pizza.

Our team ate together. One of the topics of conversation was obsession with results. Jim related how one of his previous teammates, Bunny Kliman, used to run (I doubt that!) around announcing how many matchpoints the team had won by multiplying the number of victories times the match award. I insisted that I did not even want to know the value of the match award because it distracted from the actual goal, which was always to finish high in the overall results.

Jim and Abhi went somewhere, which provided me with a chance to chat with Mike. He was wearing his famous tee shirt, which was emblazoned with a drawing of a dog and the words “In dog years I’m dead.” He had worn this to every Sunday Swiss event for many years, but the lettering was not very faded. When I asked him if the one he was wearing was the original, he said it was the second one. I then inquired if he washed it. He answered in the affirmative, and then quickly corrected his answer to “My wife washes it.”

I responded, “You really mean that she tells you that she washes it. She probably just throws it in the dryer, folds it, and gives it to you.”

That led to a discussion of getting old. I told him about my baseball cap with the text “It’s weird being the same age as old people.” I then told him that my favorite saying was “Women my age are very old.”

A big smile appeared on his face as he said, “It’s true.” I had not seen that smile for some time. He had been experiencing health problems. They definitely affected his walking and his balance, and I suspected that they also affected his bridge game. I was very glad to see him smile.

In the first round after lunch we lost by thirteen IMPs to a B team that Abhi and I did not think was very good. The scores that Mike and Jim produced were discouragingly bad. At that point we were in tenth place overall, which was terrible for an A team. Jim said to me privately “Remember what you said about the match awards.”

As it turned out, losing that round was a blessing in disguise. The all-star team captained by Judy Hyde had been mowing down every opponent. The team that we lost to in the fourth round was one of their victims in the afternoon. Our low standing meant never had to play them. At the end Judy’s team had the remarkable total of 122 victory points out of a possible 140.

The back side of our scoresheet showed us scoring a six-IMP victory over an A team followed by a resounding twenty-five point win over a B team. That gave us a total of 70 victory points after six rounds, which tied us with the team from the Hartford Bridge Club—Tom Gerchman, Ben Levine, and Ken and Lori Leopold. We played them in the final round. Abhi and I played against Tom and Ben.

As luck would have it, the match came down to the last hand. Ben opened the bidding with 2♠, a preemptive bid that showed a relatively weak hand with six spades. After Abhi passed, Tm made the unusual bid of 4♥. I passed. Ben thought for a while and then bid 4♠. After Abhi passed, Tom bid 5♥, and that was the final contract.

When I led the ♣Q, Tom scoffed and said to Ben, “I know that you are void; that is why I jumped to 4♥ to show you I had a self sufficient hand.” He was obviously disgusted that he was now forced to take eleven tricks. It was generally considered a good idea for a person who made a preemptive bid to refrain from bidding thereafter.

In fact, Ben had two hearts, six spades headed by the AKQ, two diamonds, and three clubs. Tom called for a low club. Abhi and Tom also played low clubs. So, I surprisingly won the trick. I wondered why both Abhi and Tom let me win it. Abhi’s was the ♣6. I could see every club lower than the 6. We were playing standard carding. His signal clearly indicated that he did NOT want me to lead another club. Unfortunately, I could not figure out what he did want me to lead. I settled for a trump. I was afraid that a switch to diamonds would finesse give declarer a free trick.

I learned later that Abhi had both the ace and king of clubs, but his only other club was the 6. He was quite upset with me for not continuing clubs. He asked, “What possible reason could there be for not continuing clubs?” I reminded him that he clearly signaled that he did not want me to continue, and at trick one in such a weird auction I did not know what to do. I did not mention it, but he obviously should have overtaken my queen, and led clubs himself. Evidently this never occurred to him.

So, long story short. Tom took his eleven tricks. Abhi was beside himself.

Short story a little longer: At the other table the bidding was the same, except that Mike passed 4♥, and Ken doubled. Lori, holding my hand, was on lead. She led a spade. This allowed Jim to take twelve tricks. We won eight IMPs on that hand and won the match by six.

This vaulted us into third place overall, which was precisely the same result, earned in an eerily similar fashion, as what occurred the previous year (described here).

The weather both days featured pleasant temperatures, but the sun was never visible because of clouds and particulates that had been generated by forest fires in Canada.

The drive home after winning the last round of a Swiss is almost always pleasant. This was no exception. However, just before I reached Westfield, MA, the traffic in both lanes slowed down to only 35 mph, which is less than half the usual pace. As I got closer to I-91, the traffic thinned a little, but it began raining. By the time that I reached Springfield, it had reached the level of a downpour. The last twenty minutes of the trip was not pleasant. It was well before sunset, but the sky was dark enough, and the rain was heavy enough to make it somewhat dangerous.

Oxford received a once-in-a-thousand-years rainfall.

Sue had spent the day at the Davis family reunion. She heated up some leftovers for both of us. I ate mine while watching Reacher and Endeavour. She made a plate for herself, but she was so tired that she fell asleep in her chair without touching her food.

I later learned that southern Connecticut had experienced severe storms all day long on Sunday. Oxford received more than sixteen inches of rain in one day!

Fall Sectional in Johnston, RI: At some point in August Abhi asked me too play with him at the sectional tournament in Johnston, RI, scheduled for September 21-22. He was looking for a partner for Saturday and for teammates on Sunday. Knowing that I would be missing on two consecutive occasions my standing game with Peter Katz at the HBC, I declined the invitation for Saturday. I asked a new partner, John Lloyd (introduced here), to play with me on Sunday. We worked out a convention card and arranged to meet at 8am at the Park & Ride at Exit 70 on I-84. He would be coming from Avon, CT. I would drive down Route 32 from Stafford.

John had recently purchased a white Audi that he was quite proud of. So, he drove from the parking lot to Johnston. As expected on a Sunday morning, the drive was quite uneventful. Since the rising sun was obscured by clouds, we were not bothered by the usual blinding rays on the predominantly eastbound journey. We talked about a few things with which John had little experience, such as defending against weak 1NT bidding and strong club systems.

Vipin Mayar.

When we arrived at the Johnston Senior Center at a little before 9am, I was surprised to see relatively few cars in the parking lot. In fact, only a dozen teams participated in the event. That was 20 percent fewer than the number in the March sectional described above.

Abhi arrived a little after we did. He introduced us to his partner, Vipin Mayar, who had about 170 masterpoints. So, I had more masterpoints than the rest of the team combined. We were in the B stratum, which contained five teams.

We played eight rounds of six boards each. I would have preferred to play six rounds of eight boards. It probably would have gone a little faster and minimized the number of mismatches in the late rounds.

We narrowly lost our first match to another B team from Rhode Island. We then won a close match against a team of HBC players, the Leopolds, Rob Stillman, and Ronit Shoham. It would not have been close except for the fact that Abhi somehow went down three in a 5♥ contract whereas John and I defeated Ken by only one trick in 6♥. We then won two close matches against a B team and a C team. So, at lunch we were 3-1 with 42 victory points.

I can’t comment on the lunches that they sold. John and I both brought sandwiches.

We won our fifth match against the first A team that we had faced. John and I played against Sheila Gabay and Alan Watson. After we compared scores, I found it incredible that Abhi and I had defeated Sheila in both matches in 2024. I had played against her many times in Swiss matches in the previous fifteen years with absolutely no success.

In the last three rounds we were beaten badly by two other A teams, and we defeated a C team. We won five matches, but our total of only 73 victory points kept us out of the overalls. I found the afternoon session to be very tedious. I played one partial against Sheila’s team, no hands in round 6 and 8, the two rounds that we lost badly. I called such situations in which you feel powerless “playing D&D”—defense and dummy.

The drive home was not bad. My navigating instructions were basically all “Keep to the right.” I enjoyed being with John. He is serious about bridge, and he was a pretty good partner. He forgot a couple of conventions, which caused a few embarrassing moments. He asked me later for advice on how he could improve his ability to spot the situations in which they might occur. This is what I wrote to him:

One key to remembering might be to do it earlier. When you put down a pass card, and your partner has not bid yet, try to categorize your hand as garbage, possibly supporting, or invitational. Then look at your major suits and make a plan as to how you might support. Since one new convention, Drury, is part of that support process, this will allow you to put it into your memory process more often.

When you open a minor you would prefer to end up in NT or a suit. Plan ahead. If partner bids a major he is showing four pieces. If you have four, you are set. However, if you have three pieces you should immediately think about the two tools for finding a 5-3 fit. You can tell partner about your three with a support double or redouble. Partner can tell you about his five with new minor forcing. If partner does not bid a major, then you need to determine whether you should end up in NT or a minor. These require a different set of tools.

Memory improves with repetition, but the repetition need not come under fire. If you plan ahead for potential fits, you activate the right memories without necessarily deploying them.

I used Bridge Baron to learn new conventions. It provided a large number of samples or nearly every convention imaginable. Sometimes the convention was appropriate. Sometimes it wasn’t. Unfortunately, my copy disappeared at some point.

October Sectional in Orange: The CBA’s final sectional of the year was held in Orange on the weekend of October 25-27. Eric agreed to play with me in the Open Pairs, but I was unable to find a partner for the Swiss on Sunday even though two different pairs wanted to team up with me.

The tournament was very well organized and very well attended. Bill Segraves, Cornelia Guest, and others did a very good job.

I was in a terrible mood. I had received a very strange email from Bill on the previous Saturday:

I just stumbled upon your blog and write to express my concern about two aspects of this:

1) It would have been my thinking that CBA board members engaging in communication while acting in that capacity have a reasonable expectation that their communication is not all for public display and consumption. If that is not something you can accept and act on, then I need to bring it up to the board for discussion right away.

2) In your blog, you are presenting a particular viewpoint on various things, but it is not the only viewpoint. I don’t think you even meant to have caused hurt by some of your comments and omissions, but you have.

Of course, I did not agree that people had such an expectation, particularly when they used “reply all”. I certainly did not intend to “cause hurt”. I replied as follows:

I have never purposely done anything hurtful to anyone in my adult life. Prior to Covid there was practically no communication on the Internet among members of the CBA. If there are boundaries about this, I am unaware of them.

Let me know what you want removed. I will tend to it. I know of no one who reads my blogs regularly. I have a hard time believing that people do not want me to express my opinions. I have written over one million words in blog entries. Someone is bound to take issue with some of them.

I am very unhappy with life. I have no family or pets. The only things that I have left are bridge and writing. I already concluded that people were actively trying to take the former away from me. I am very reluctant to accept censorship about the latter.

He wanted to talk on the telephone about it. It was very strange conversation. He refused to provide details. He only said that he would “censor myself” in future communications with me. This has been my practice for thirty years; it surprised me that he would only start at that point.

On Tuesday I learned that Peter Marcus had sent a “scathing” email to Donna Feir complaining about the HBC’s supposed supporting of me. She offered to let me see it, but I did not want to. She did show it to Eric, who was surprised, to say the least.

I inferred that he was “hurt” by my blog entry on the ridiculous Tonto scandal. I took down the entry. I was tired of fighting. I have never been combative. When I told Bill on Friday that I had done this, he asked me if I had taken care of the “phone numbers”. I had no idea to what he was referring. He said that some of the photos of the “partnerships” had phone numbers on them. I should have asked for more details, but he was quite busy.

On that same day I received an email from Carolyn Weiser, the Secretary of the New England Bridge Conference, asking me to remove phone numbers and “addresses” in my blog entries. I went to several of the entries concerning my partnerships, but I could find no way to display addresses or phone numbers.

On Saturday Bill specified that the photos were in the entry concerning the Pro-Am game (posted here) in Nashua. Two 300-pixel photos contained quite small phone numbers and email addresses on index cards or Sue’s notes. I could not make out any of them when I looked at the screen, but perhaps someone could have blown the image up and enhanced the contrast. I deleted the photos and slightly modified the text. I sent an email to Carolyn saying that I had done so.

The bridge was not memorable. It seemed as if our opponents were making mistakes, but Eric and I failed to bid games when we should have. We were a little below 50 percent in all four sessions. It was an extreme embarrassment.

My only strong memory is of the first round of the second day. On two consecutive hands I had no aces and no face-cards. On the third one I had only one king.

As I said, the attendance was good. The open games on Friday drew 33.5 tables. The limited games had 15.5. The numbers on Saturday were 36 and 21.5. The two-session Swiss on Sunday had 23 tables, and the limited game in the morning had four.

1. Abhi said that he warned me, and I have no reason to doubt that he did. However, if I were the dummy, and my partner did what I did, I would have announced, “Wait a minute. Are you sure that you did not have any diamonds? You underruffed!” I take great pride the fact that none of my partners has revoked in more than fifteen years.

2. In his 1991 book, A View From Above Wilt claimed to have slept with 20,000 different women during his life.

3. In the period after the pandemic I have had trouble getting teammates from the HBC. Perhaps the problem is the timing. Some arrangements are made many months in advance; many are made at the very last minute. My efforts seem to fall in the middle.

4. I brought the car into Lia, my dealership, on Friday, March 22. They gave me a lift home in their shuttle. I had only been there a minute when they called to tell me that the heater was working perfectly. I had tried it on Tuesday and Wednesday without success. There must be more to this story.

5. Roman Key Card Blackwood asks for the number of aces plus the king of trump. The bid that starts the convention is always 4NT. Redwood and Minorwood change the first bid if the trump suit is a minor. Minorwood uses four of the trump suit, Redwood uses one suit higher. Kickback uses one suit higher than the trump suit for all trump suits.

6. Vipin’s LinkedIn page can be found here.

7. The fall sectional was traditionally held at various sites in the Hartford area. Since Covid-19 no appropriate site seemed to be available there. In 2072 Carole Amaio contacted the Portuguese Club in Newington. They were supposedly remodeling their facility. However, they stopped returning her telephone calls.

8. I was disabused in the the early nineties of the notion that my electronic communications were in any way private when dealing with Sheree Marlow Wicklund during the early days of the installation of the AdDept system (chronicled here). Sheree was our liaison, which I thought that she would act to help us keep the users happy. Instead, she forwarded all of my communications to all of the managers of areas that would be using the system. Some of my replies criticized some manager’s responses as out of bounds. This did not go over well.