It had been forty-five years since expulsion from AZA. Enough was enough. As such, when in March Stuart noted he’d be north for an April wedding, our conclave was scheduled. What followed was no less than predicable.
The meeting was set for yesterday, 11AM, Corky’s. Fred was notified, as were Treinish and Raisin. Bob asked me to reserve the back booth –evidently his fingers had forgotten how to dial—but, sensing low attendance, he emailed Friday to cancel the booth. (Since I’d yet to act on the first request, his second came easy).
Arriving early, I sat down facing out. Stu came next and, thin as ever, glided inside—to the middle of the booth. How was it, I wondered, that his stomach never once touched the table? Smiling, gloating, he brandished an envelope.
“Here it is, B: the Lodge Directory.”
(Thumbing through it, I heard him speak again).
“B, why do you think I’m listed in Florida and not here?”
(I hadn’t a clue).
“Out-of-state dues!” he noted. “Much cheaper.”
By then Bobby’d begun his one man parade through the restaurant. Moving to the south of the table, I acceded the power seat to Snydo not so much of duty but from a sense that it takes so little to make him happy. Sitting in the point he is, if but momentarily, bubbling over, once again behind the wheel of his ’66 Mustang convertible. (How could I deny him?)
It was time to begin:
MINUTES OF THE MEETING OF SHILOH AZA, 4/2/11
The meeting was called to order at 11:15 by Aleph Godol Bob S. There were 3 members in attendance. Stuart reported that Fred might stop by later; Bruce said that Arthur was working ‘til noon but that Treinish opted out. Bobby announced that Randy was too busy taking his wife and his pet to doctors. After a general discussion the consensus was that Kraut was excused but that Alan has no interest in his Rowland buddies. (I disagreed for the record, but my heart wasn’t in it).
There was no reading of the minutes of the last meeting. Thank God no one asked. Last I saw of the file it was in an oversized cardboard box stored in Lomaz’s Bolingbrook garage. (Have seen neither the file nor Lomaz’s friendship since).
Committee Reports: None.
Old Business: Bob reported that Randy was still recovering from his tragic loss. It was noted that we’ve all reached out to him and that his timetable is his timetable. Our thoughts, clearly, remain with the Rais.
New Business: Discussion was had about a 2011 reunion. The group is considering Stuart’s Florida compound as a cost-efficient new venue offering collegial atmosphere. Bob expressed concern that everyone has a bed while Stuart assured that he would gladly open his home but under no circumstances would he relinquish his bedroom. Bruce assuaged the issue, reminding all that at the behest of his then-wife and kids, he once slept in a bathtub in Buckhorn, Pennsylvania.
The thought was that Mark might come from Columbus (and see his kids along the way), and Arthur that would complain, but show. (I agreed with the former, but reminded the guys that Art prioritizes fishing excursions these days and was even hesitating on his fall Vegas trip). Stu and Bob felt that Alan would come from Portland; I thought not. My life in the minority was underscored as I offered to call Myers. You could hear the silence.
Good And Welfare: The waitress had a tattoo on her wrist. Bob said he recently considered getting one, but passed. Stuart surprised us, remarking that they could be “sexy.” Immediately we replayed the old commercial: “This is not your father’s Oldsmobile!” Stuart? Stuart Fenton? Bruce related a distaste for “tats,” even though Wieder had some. (Silently it occurred to him that giving Alan a pass on tattoos was but history repeating itself. Had Bruce’s dad, who adored Alan, not overlooked Wieder’s shoulder-length hair?)
“B,” Fenton asked, “What do you suppose Al Bogart would say if his waitress had a tattoo?”
Snyder laughed as Stuart continued:
“He’d say ‘Let’s find another place to eat.’”
There was a general discussion about Marvin. The contents will not be reflected in these minutes as we’ve all been taught that if there’s nothing nice to say, say nothing.
Shortly before the meeting closed, Brother Fred arrived. Always a welcome sight, he was tanned, trim, and (as usual), looked ten years younger than the rest of us. His face showed little evidence of time travelled since he first he was dubbed “Chico Santa Anna Guadlahari Gomez, Jr.’, or “Macro Cephallic,” or the other adolescent nicknames. He remains in constant contact with Randy and, more significantly, with those of our friends of yesteryear that gladly leave us in their pasts. Freddy shared pictures Dnnis, Ricky’s A & H and Joel, all taken at Herman’s kid’s wedding. Most importantly, Fred showed a picture of his mother. It was the perfect way to close the meeting.
Respectfully submitted,
Bruce Bogart, Aleph Mazkir
Next meeting or reunion of the guys, I’m there! Wouldn’t miss it, even if its on Stuart’s side of the state of Florida.
I remember when Bruce was a Cub Scout. His mother was a “den mother”. I wanted to join in the fun. The boys called me a cougar.
Do AZA’s have “den mothers”? If so, can I attend your next meeting?