BINGO!

I spent eleven years in a Catholic grade school and high school. I've lived in New York City, D.C., San Francisco, Chicago, and a few other choice locations. Most of the time I've been an active member of a parish. I've cooked soup in pots too heavy to carry for soup suppers; joined discussion groups about women's issues, theology, the bible, prayer, and events in Southeast Asia; sold raffle tickets, baked goods, and bazaar items; participated in liturgies .... Might as well stop with the word "participated." I have participated, participated in everything except Bingo! Never, never once in all my Catholic years did I ever play Bingo! Why, that's almost heretical, but now I'm saved. Bingo! is central to life in Senior Housing, ranked right up there in importance with elevators and the mail. Bingo! gets us old baguettes and crusty trolls out of our apartments. Our playing is competitive, wholehearted. We complain. "That Mary always wins." "Why isn't everyone quiet, so we can hear?" We're loud. We chortle noisily and have a grand time. There are many variations of Bingo! Picnic table, layer cake, bow tie, railroad.... How easy it is to forget the game of the moment, so we ask, "What are we playing?" Our minds wander. "What number did she just call?" Without the comments, Bingo! would be boring, but with the comments it is a source of hilarity. Chortling is, I believe, good for the soul. At game's end, we old baguettes and crusty trolls go back to our apartments and rest.

And ....

Thanks, Carol A., for your comment. I do know who you are. The sandwich ingredients, not the name, gave you away.