I get by with a little help from my friends

Sunday March 24th 7 pm , 34 degrees in Paradise Ut.

I promise not to drag things out too far but history brings some parameters to the story... suffer along with me.

To pick up where I left off, basketball was the game of choice for our crew ( motorcycles as well on my world) which proved to be a great social event, bonding amongst friends, kept some of us out of trouble- kinda, developed social skills in a round about way and introduced me to my gal of 40 years coming up in August. I never really thought of basketball as a blood sport until my exposure to some serious street ball, no blood... no foul.

A bit off the subject, how is it I can remember events over 40 years ago like it was yesterday yet trying to recall what this morning's breakfast looked like would be a failing grade if put to the test... odd. Some things just stick like Velcro in the minds eye, not all bad if it's a great memory, this being the case.

We had just tied up a coed game of roundball with about 5 of us sitting on a park bench under the shade of a tree discussing life's idiosyncrasies, Ann being there and me feeling like a hot mess on a shag carpet in her presence. Confidence was not high but at least I had my crew as a buffer until I noticed one by one they were exiting stage left... then there were three.