They came and they went at the First Chance and vice versa at the Last Chance, the two taverns in my hometown. Pickeled eggs were consumed liberally without cholesterol concerns and lager was quaffed in copious amounts.
In the corner sat the pinball machine that taught me that finesse took precedence over brute strength in some arenas of life. In fact, if there was two much shaking going on, everything shut down and the light flashed “TILT“.
Herr Brecht would say “To live means to finesse the processes to which one is subjugated.”
There were plenty of old sages in there along with that mechanical teacher, the pinball machine. Theyhad lived and had a thing or two to say about living and before I flew the coop and logged my 10 million frequent flyer miles, Ilistened and believe that the old Russianline is true, Eggs cannot teach a hen.
So I waited (not always patiently) and now I know that the First and Last Chance Saloons were as important to me as my alma mater. That’samazingly weird to me; those old paradoxical metaphoric haunts of mine.
Tommy Class of ’72