The host of the potluck poker game brought out this relic from his youth.
I almost needed it during the game, distracted as I was, by the TV.
By luck, I went home with three dollars more in my pocket than I came with.
Sitting around a table full of strikingly handsome, intelligent and fun-loving men — filling the air with fragrant cigar and pipe smoke was a major highlight.
"It's a friendly game" I was told, and that was true. I was met with patience trying to recall poker with my dad decades ago. We never played for money back then, but forcing yourself to stay focused with a few dimes makes it all the more interesting.
If there's one thing I'd like to bring home to Cincinnati from this trip, it would be this afternoon. Now I just need to find some folks that are game within spittin' distance.