THE UPDATE ON MY FIRST DATE
At a nursing home gig, a resident told me she knew my late Aunt Bernice.
Another resident remembered me from my junior high days. Her daughter had played first-chair clarinet, to my second chair, in junior high band.
A third resident said he was the former dentist of Yiddishe Cup’s drummer. “What’s your drummer’s name again?” the dentist asked. [Don Friedman! The great Donny Friedman!]
I said, “I’ll give you the drummer’s name, but first I’m going to be clairvoyant!” I guessed the dentist’s name, his approximate age (90), and what he had done that morning — three hours prior to the gig.
I got everything right, but the dentist wasn’t impressed. He wanted the drummer’s name.
I guessed everything right about the dentist because 1. I had seen the dentist playing tennis at a nearby racquet club that morning. A 90-year-old guy playing tennis is hard to forget. 2. I knew his approximate age because he used to play tennis with my dad. 3. I knew his name because I had dated his daughter in high school.
The daughter and I had gone to see Cool Hand Luke at the Vogue, then out for shakes at Manner’s Big Boy, Van Aken. It was a fix-up by our parents. It was my one-and- only date in high school.
I asked the dentist, “What’s Barbara doing?” The daughter.
“She’s a piano teacher in Boston,” he said.
I just Googled her. She teaches classical and jazz. She used to be a radio DJ.
Did I make a major mistake not asking her out for a second date?