Barb emailed a most interesting article from the Wall Street Journal the other day. It was about Maggy Simony, a 92 year-old Floridian who has been trying to bring bridge back to its early-to-middle 20th-century elegance.
She had enjoyed the game with her husband and friends for years. A bridge gathering in those days involved elaborate meals and hours of socializing. Tea sandwiches, canapes, Waldorf salad and chicken a la king were commonly served and gossip, er, news about the community was shared over homemade cream puffs. She laments the fading of that era beginning in the early 1970s. In fact, the article points out, bridge playing in general has declined over the years, with membership in the ACBL dwindling.
Well, I would like to lift Ms. Simony's spirits and tell her, we are trying to keep the tradition going. In the winter months, a group of us meets in each others' homes for bridge and while I've yet to see a tea sandwich, we've had lovely lunches complete with delightful desserts and "news" sharing.
Why, one afternoon our hostess even served up a little excitement with lunch when she left her pot holder in the oven with the chicken casserole. Smoke billowed out of the kitchen and we had to open all the downstairs windows to fan the fumes out. Coughing and hacking we were able to save the place before it all went up in flames!
So while we need to work a bit more on the "elegance", we are trying hard to retain the spirit of the golden age of bridge. Even if it kills us.
She had enjoyed the game with her husband and friends for years. A bridge gathering in those days involved elaborate meals and hours of socializing. Tea sandwiches, canapes, Waldorf salad and chicken a la king were commonly served and gossip, er, news about the community was shared over homemade cream puffs. She laments the fading of that era beginning in the early 1970s. In fact, the article points out, bridge playing in general has declined over the years, with membership in the ACBL dwindling.
Well, I would like to lift Ms. Simony's spirits and tell her, we are trying to keep the tradition going. In the winter months, a group of us meets in each others' homes for bridge and while I've yet to see a tea sandwich, we've had lovely lunches complete with delightful desserts and "news" sharing.
Why, one afternoon our hostess even served up a little excitement with lunch when she left her pot holder in the oven with the chicken casserole. Smoke billowed out of the kitchen and we had to open all the downstairs windows to fan the fumes out. Coughing and hacking we were able to save the place before it all went up in flames!
So while we need to work a bit more on the "elegance", we are trying hard to retain the spirit of the golden age of bridge. Even if it kills us.
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