A Call at 2:15 am, Oh No…Oh, Good News!

Finally it’s a spring morning that feels like, well, spring!  It’s been the usual cruel spring in New England, barely getting warm and with real sunshine only briefly popping up.  But it’s always like this, I should remember.  Last night we met in Northampton; the city was so busy at the intersection of Main and King, throngs of young people crossed the street.  It was the weekend of UMass and Smith College’s graduations, and so everyone was out on the town.

We ducked into the corner bar of Mama Iguana’s right next to three women who were cozied up with beers. A woman sat down at the bar with more than half of her ample bosom on display, and an older man with his hands all over her. Cindy gestured to me that I needed to look in another direction than the boobs, and I complied.  After some drinks and nosh, it was time to pay.  I reached for my walled and felt an unfamiliar void. Oops, what happened to my wallet?

I got out of paying due to this unforeseen event, and we went to Holyoke to retire for the night.  Then my phone rang at 2:15 am.  Whoa, when your phone rings at that time of the night, it’s never good. But it was my son-in-law Francisco, relaying a message from the Northampton police. They had my wallet. I could pick it up there tomorrow.  Boy that’s good news.  I love that the town where we play is populated with people who turn wallets over to the friendly local police, who call me and tell me such good news.