Hi,
You know, we used to have several places here in Murphysboro where we could go play Bingo once a week. Bingo is a good kind of recreation for all ages, especially for our older groups who like to get out once in a while and visit friends.
We played at the American Legion, V.F.W., K.C. Hall, and the Elks. Now, the only place we can go play Bingo is at the Elks Club. They have bingo every Monday night at 7 p.m., and if we want to play Bingo any other night we have to go to Carbondale on Tuesday, or to Herrin almost any night. We hope our clubs here in Murphysboro will find a way to keep Grandmas here in town, so they don't have to go out of town to play Bingo.
I'm an avid Bingo player, since I'm a Senior Citizen. I can't bowl or play ball anymore. I played on an open class ladies ball team until I was 52 years old, and I bowled in a Ladies League until I had to have two knee operations and the doctor told me, no more bowling because it was too hard on the knees. I was secretary/treasurer of the league. That's when I took part in Bingo, and I enjoyed it very much. In fact, I called Bingo years ago at the V.F.W. and American Legion. That was fun to get to watch the players faces as they got near to having a Bingo.
My gem... We need old friends to help us grow old, and new friends to help us stay young.
I met a very nice person while playing Bingo, the late Beavon Parsons. He was a composer of some great poems, and I'm enclosing one about Bingo. He gave me several of his poems, which I have used in my columns.
BINGO
I settle in a padless chair, the bottom, oh so hard.
And survey numbers with due care and hope I have THE card.
The caller perched on stool so high his words could bring me fame,
I have a deep and anxious sigh. He says, "Let's start the game."
With steady voice he opens play with, "Fourteen under B."
It's in the corner - Happy Day! He then calls, "Fifty G."
The next one is, "I Twenty-eight," and I feel very right.
Three in a row. I'm going great, this could be my BIG night!
He then calls, "O Sixty-nine," to give me my first wait.
That missing number would be fine. Will kindness come from fate?
N Forty-one, the missing link. Will set me all aglow.
And if it's called, without a blink, I'll shout a loud, "BINGO!"
He teases with, "N Forty three," and then, "N Forty-four."
He shocks me with near misses, so close I'm getting sore.
Then, "BINGO," shouts some happy gal, thrilled from head to toes.
As I wish that her lucky card was crammed half up her nose!
But now you find you're surely hooked on playing this darn game.
You come so close, and then get rooked, night after night, the same.
But friend, you really cannot quit and BINGOS you still seek.
So, on hard chairs you sit and sit - and come back every week!
So Bingo lovers, hear me good. The future could get worse!
You stare at cards in quiet prayer - and silently, you curse.
This love affair with Bingo lasts, till death breaks you apart.
Once in the Pearly Gates you ask, "What time does Bingo start?"
Mr. Parsons is gone, but his poems will live on forever. He was an avid Bingo player, and a friend to all who knew him. He gave me several of his witty poems, which I dearly treasure.
Murphysboro, Ill. —
