The fifth seat:

[pinto]

Texas was a great place to be a kid. In our day, we took off our shoes the last day of school and, except for Sunday Mass, or dinners at my Grandmother's, didn't put them back on 'till fall.

My mom and dad went out once a month, out to a roadhouse beyond the city limits. He got slicked up, a tie and Old Spice, while my mom wore earrings, perfume, nylons - not nurse white - and heels. They had such a good time, as did we kids... Neighbors babysat on those nights, which meant horror movies till the last possible second - headlights in the driveway were a general alarm to duck and cover.

The adults played bridge twice a month. My mom, my dad and a couple we kids called the Frenchies (they were actually Mr. and Mrs. French, my folks' best friends) held a regular game around our dining room table.

I was pretty nerdy, even then, and was allowed to sit behind a player and watch the bridge game progress. Though ne'er a word was spoken, players showed me their hands, there was the occasional wink and once or twice a little shoe tap when a particularly well played card was tabled. I loved the back and forth, the finesses and the competition. Learned a little bit of bridge, but more importantly, I learned something after each hand about adult behavior. When the contract was made or defeated and all the cards were on the table, the four adults talked about the deal. "I would have done this, I thought you meant that, was that a legit call?..."

I realized, at five or six, that the competition was one thing, and *hotly contested* it was - scores were kept, checked and rechecked - but their interest was as much about the discussion of the play as who won or lost.

It was just a game, of course, but I was fascinated at this little slice of life. It was a good lesson. I've never forgotten that picture.