Big Jay and Gloria say hello

Will, Lynne, Bill, Jim, Big J, Ian, Edgar, Steve, Jeanette, Gloria, Ray and Rollo (in the Rollomobile). Guest appearances by Javier.

Hot outside and even hotter inside. The burning question of the evening was why Javier gave Ian an extra big dollop of cream on his desperately wanted ice-cream. More of that later.
Bill is busy, so the responsibility of recording the proceedings has gone, temporarily, to a reluctant Lynne. The last time she did something like this was when she was a cub reporter trying to make council minutes sound interesting. At least she now has exciting subject matter, very exciting, especially tonight (Thank you Ian).
Gloria arrived in a pretty top and a green pork pie shaped hat with a dusty pink rim. She was without her blue-tooth ear piece, but she was wearing a gold pin which said AKA 100. This, she explained, was not a reference to a birthday but a sorority pin. “We had our centenary last year.”
Bill told everyone that Lynne had knobbly knees. She gave the table a flash and Jeanette reassured her that her knees were nice. She simply had big dimples. Jeanette should know. In her career as a nurse she has seen thousands of naked knees.
Hearing the words knobbly knees got Ian talking to Bill about exotic British seaside knobbly knee contests. Strangely the non-Brits did not ask any questions.
Big Jay is just back from another European tour. In east Germany he performed at free afternoon concerts. He and Gloria, easily the oldest among us, sat side by side. Big Jay, who clutching his sax throws himself about the stage with wild abandon, and the vivacious Gloria (who enthusiastically embarks on lengthy road trips) talked about …aging bodies letting them down.
“Have you ever imagined yourself in an 80 –year-old body? asked a sun-kissed Jeanette later. She was the only one who had. Or who admitted it.
Will, weary from the drive from the annual Bronco Billy silent film festival in Niles, left early without paying his bill. Soon after he rang Bill from his car (Hope you pulled over Will) asking him to pick up the tab. This was only fair ’cos Will had picked up Bill’s tab recently when Bill exited the historic Hollywood Studio Bar and Grill in debt.
Will recommended the festival at which, he told us, Bob Birchard had been honored. Congratulations Bob.
Ray, who arrived last, said he had just seen Bob, our resident film historian, on Turner Classic Movies. Ray was in a saucy mood and on hearing that mail boxes were called pillar boxes in Britain inquired what female boxes were called.
Jim Dawson brought in copies of Sh-Boom which he used to edit. “I was the only white guy on staff and we made it as Street as possible,” he recalled. Inside was a picture of a bearded Jim looking like Edgar’s older brother. Even Edgar acknowledged the likeness. Is there something we should be told? Lots of undercurrents tonight.
Inside it is cold, then hot, then very cold. Lynne cannot grumble as usual about the air conditioning with Barbara, who along with Bobb is away. What a night to miss.
Lynne and Steve were on the same side of the health debate, volubly. Ian, in between them, covered his ears. He is pleased with the latest print of his new book but does not understand talk about dpi (dots per inch). He is not alone.
Ian now has a You Tube critic who calls him a wanker, and worse. But Ian also has a fan who likes his bottom. So it evens up.
Ian was not himself. But then that is Ian. He was still smarting at the way he always has to ask for his ice-cream when “it is part of my meal that I have paid for". And where was the drink he had ordered (white wine because it was cheaper than red)? Another table (“Christians,” said Ian dismissively) had already received their drinks even though they ordered later.
Javier and Ian locked antlers, full of retorts and hisses. Ian left. Never to return, he said. Fifteen minutes later he was back. He and Javier made up out of sight of the rest of us and he sat down to relish his specially topped-up ice-cream, plunging his spoon in deep. Rollo, who makes friends wherever he goes including tonight in the parking lot, had been left at home before the touching reunion. Too emotional for him, Ian had decided.
“I had to come back,” said Ian. Unable to go to sleep on a quarrel?

CAUGHT ON THE BREEZE
It was the first time I had to put on my driving glasses to pass my driving test.
I am tired of everyone in Southern California being so charitable.
You mean Republicans go to heaven?
If your head appears big it means your body is small.
It’s five past 12, we have to go soon. Oh I got that wrong it’s 10 past nine.
As we give welfare to disabled, maybe we should give money to Republicans.
Jimmy Ruffin needs a comeback song