Diary of a Bridge Pro #40

​  Springfield, October 20

  I've been trying to tap into ethereal dimensions lately and like many other endeavors (think skiing, or visiting Yosemite National Park) risks arise, typically where you don't expect them.

  The bridge pro in me wants to make these blogs instructive as well as entertaining - though some readers simply want more stories - systems wonk may crave details on second - round transfers after Stayman - others may want tales from the trenches, bridge deals from BBO or the regional circuit. What's a writer to do?

  *****

  This writer has to plan his trip to California which begins in a few days - Ventura regional, the WBS Crew has a major assignment - follow our progress here - several team members will be blogging on the experience, we hope - who knows what will happen? Here's hoping that hijinks and mayhem ensue.

  Enter 
Snuffleupagus

  My DBP blog has been taking the turns kind of wide lately - could be because we're launching for a wider audience shortly - who knows why things happen?

  A trusted reader asserts that I'm a light-spreader - listen to your (possibly deceased) ancestors, she suggests - I try and key into my father, Phillip Roth, Alvin Roth, Edgar Kaplan, Eddie Kantar - that leads me to Justin Lall - I decide to go with it - Justin (my fictitious rendering of his ghost I mean) visits me at Venice Beach, by Kantar's old hang-out - he says he came to this terrestrial plain so I might help his sister in her quest to become mayor of LA - he's got some other requests too - like I don't have enough going on.

  *****

  But I agree to consider it - take it under advisement, right? Swiftly I realize that I may need Justin as much (or more) than he needs me - whatever his other requests, his sister will either become mayor of LA or she won't - whether I take an interest or not.

  But either way, I could use Justin - a sounding board for ideas, a potential target audience of one for me to write for, a chance to heal some of the despair we are suffering, collectively, as a society - stop me before I make a complete fool of myself - ("You are, but continue, please - A. Konisberg to this writer, late 2019) 

  *****

  So Justin, I accept - you just sit over there by the shoreline, or on this bench over here, and I'll consult you as we go along, call on you as a consultant as required. We can discuss your sister's mayoral campaign, and your other wish list as well. Agreed?

  "Absolutely," Justin replies. "Say, did I I show you the hand I used to get this trip to LA? Let me know when you have a minute, it's one of those second-round bidding problems you really like...."

  *****

  What a rich bridge scene Los Angeles enjoyed! Justin, I've got you as a captive audience. I walk along the boardwalk, mount my parked bike - this early in the AM you can ride bikes here, so I head off, southbound, with a vague promise to Justin to return before long.

  "Take as long as you like," Justin laughs, "It's not like I've got where to go." 

  Three years deceased, one of the truly elite bridge players of the early 21st century undoes his shoelaces and rolls up his trousers, preparatory to an early-morning romp in the SoCal sand.

  *****

  I decide to head north instead, that's the natural direction - keep going up the coast and you hit the Bay Area - decades ago they told me that Northern California and Southern California were like two different countries, if I didn't know that already - I'm pleased with the prospect of telling my stories to Justin - not so much because he's deceased and imaginary, I'd be similarly stoked about the prospect if he was extant and animated - whatever his mood, or internal level of despair - and obviously you are carrying a high level of despair, I'll suggest, if you leave a duplicate game and take the Lexington Avenue 4 train downtown to City Hall Station - but no matter what his level of despair, and certainly that anomie remained in the decade he was with us, after his jump from the bridge - but oddly, he was pretty much always great company - no, there were no "off-days" for Justin Lall - he was great company, the life of the party, pretty much every time I saw him.

  *****

  Neal Cassady had that quality, they say. Dean Moriarty in On The Road - 

​ *****

  I make it maybe a quarter mile south, to the Steel Pier and the first of the Salt Water Taffy stands before I decide to head north instead - no, I"m not likely to head north to the Bay Area - probably I'll go two or three miles up the boardwalk, max - but even as an east coast guy I understood California mostly as a coastal metropolis, bracketed to the north by Berkeley and North Beach, and to the South by Hollywood and Venice.

  So for now, I'm trying to stay in my lanes.

  As I pass by again, Justin is standing by his bench, his rucksack open to receive his Mango - brand loafers. "Hey, let me give you that bidding problem,". he calls to me. "You can think about it while you're riding."

  With only the tiniest bit of resentment for the delay, I pull over to listen. "Ace-fourth, King-ten-third, Jack doub, Jack fourth," Justin recites, punching the air to punctuate each suit in turn as he presents the hand.

  "Your partner opens One Diamond, you respond One Spade, your partner bids Two Clubs, and it's up to you, Opponents silent."

  A Mod Japanese fashion photographer roars past on a Vespa, his Ray-bans sparkling off the broken glass on the boardwalk.

  "It's a two part problem, you can tell me what you bid on this round when you come back," JSL tells me.

  "What if I pass Two Clubs?" I ask him.

  "Then it's a one part problem. You got a thought for the day?" Justin asks me. "I'll file it for you if you don't get back by deadline."

  "I do, actually," I tell him.

  "Shoot," he says. He laughs his JSL laugh and adds, "Using the term loosely."

  A fallen girl from the Valley, former fast food worker, former hair stylist, shuffles past us on the boardwalk, her expression vacant and her prospects poor.

  ""Always try to see the divinity within the squalor," I tell him. "Thanks, bro," he replies, and I head off north along the boardwalk.