Keeping the options open
Just because you have a plan doesn’t mean it will happen. It’s best to stay flexible.
We planned to win the compact KO today, but lost the first match so the plans for the rest of the day went out the window. In a compact, the matches are only half of a session, so we still had one more utterly meaningless match to play, which we managed to win because the other team cared even less than we did.
Mike would have stayed and played in the evening loser Swiss if I had really wanted to, but it seemed silly to make him hang around for 3 1/2 hours just to play in an irrelevant side game when he could be spending the evening with the kids and grandkids here in Dallas, so I told him to get out there and enjoy himself. I left our teammates to find another pair or play pairs, and thought I would go visit the Nasher Sculpture Center. Good thing I checked it out online–they are closed on Monday. Another plan dashed.
Monday at a NABC is Goodwill day, so my next idea was to go to the Goodwill Reception. Maybe I could make dinner out of the appetizers they would serve. Getting there late, I missed out on the good food but was honored to be there to give a standing ovation to Kitty Gottfried, a woman who has been a faithful friend of the game for ages, always there to do what is needed. She is tiny, less than 5 feet tall, 87 years old and in very very frail health. Her son flew from Chicago to DC to pick her up and bring her to Dallas for the ceremony, where she was so overcome with emotion she couldn’t even face the adoring throng while she got her award. Being able to stand and give her the ovation she so richly deserves was an honor.
After the Goodwill meeting, I met up with Richard Meffley, a stalwart of the Fresno Unit who has been my friend since we were freshmen in the dormitories of UC Davis. We walked around downtown Dallas, noticing the huge First Baptist complex with buildings old and new covering an entire city block.
I had been talking with a friend at the Goodwill meeting, and she recommended a restaurant called The Woolworth right next to the giant eyeball, so we headed in that direction. In what had become a theme for the day, they were closed on Monday.
I’m getting pretty good at shifting gears by this time, so we decided to eat at Campisi’s, which has been providing Italian food around here since 1946. We got a great table outside, listened to the piped in Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennet and enjoyed a simple meal of salad and pasta–I had the angel hair with olive oil and garlic and a link of sausage, Richard had the lasagna.
Campisi’s solved the issues I’ve had at two other eateries this trip–the portions were generous and the prices were dirt cheap. My dinner came to $20 flat, and that included a decent tip–I felt sorry for the waiter, he can’t make much with food that cheap.
We didn’t have dessert because there is a gelato place right next door, where we planned (that word again) to get a cone to enjoy on the walk back. You guessed it–they closed while we were eating.
I gave up. No more planning. Back to the hotel, cower in my room and wait for the tomorrow to come.
Totally Unauthorized 