I love playing bridge at the McKinleyville Senior Center.  I now know lots of interesting people there, and my partner and I are steadily improving our game.
         During my childhood, Mom and Dad often had friends over for bridge.  They seemed to enter another world which--appallingly--wasn't focused on me.  I jealously swore "I'll never learn that dumb game."  When I finally did begin learning it in my late teens, I was quickly hooked, along with my brother and later my sister.  In the 23 years since, this game has always drawn my family together.  Playing endless bridge, we talk between the cards--about our lives, people, philosophies, the world.  When talk flows, the cards wait; when talk slows, the game moves on.  Bridge helps us easily enjoy being together--for hours, for days.  Though we live far apart, we've always planned times together, and have worn out many decks of cards.
         Investment wizard Warren Buffett said that "any young person who doesn't take up bridge is making a big mistake."  Perhaps an exaggeration, but it's hard to overestimate the endless fascination of this game, which involves a phenomenal blend of logic and deduction together with intuition, imagination, creative flair, and human communication.  However adept you become, there's always more to learn.  Many older people have perhaps warded off Alzheimer's disease by honing their brain cells with this challenging game.
         The biggest hindrance to playing bridge is that it's difficult to learn.  It is.  This reminds me of a scene from "The Simpsons," in which Bart decided to become a guitar hero.  He convinced his dad Homer to buy him an electric guitar, and began to learn.  A week later, the guitar was buried in a closet.  Homer wondered "Bart, why aren't you playing that guitar?"  "It's too hard, Dad," Bart replied.  "Son," the elder Simpson mused philosophically, "anything that hard can't be worth doing.  Let's go watch TV!"
         Bridge requires exactly four people, or multiples of four in a larger "duplicate" game.  In duplicate bridge, the four "hands" of a given deal are preserved in separate slots of a small "board," and are sent around to be played at other tables.  This removes the "luck of the deal" and enables players to sharpen their skills by later seeing how others fared with the same cards.  Whether or not bridge is played in "duplicate" style, the game always involves two opposing partnerships.  Good communication between partners is crucial, but "signalling" through winks, nods, or private understandings is illegal; communication must occur through specialized
"languages" of bidding and play of the cards.  Successful partners respect each other, broach criticisms constructively, and are patient, considerate, forgiving, unselfish, and encouraging.
         Invented early in the 20th century, bridge was derived from the older game "whist."  The new game captured the imagination of millions.  Top players devised competing "bidding systems," and tried to prove (by winning tournaments) that their methods were superior--in hopes they would thereby be enshrined as authorities and sell lots of books.  The American Contract Bridge League was instituted to promote the game, and established a system whereby ACBL members could accumulate "master points" won in local, regional, or national duplicate games--the ultimate goal being sufficient points to earn the title "life master."
         The master point system remains in place today and has probably stimulated sustained interest in bridge and pushed the game to higher levels, but some lust for points just as others do for dollars.  Whether or not points are involved, players anxious to win can sometimes become overly serious, rude, or even abusive of their partners in response to real or perceived mistakes.
         Thinking this seriousness has kept younger players away, the ACBL instituted a policy of "Zero Tolerance,"--not for drugs, but for rudeness:  a pair's score is immediately penalized if one or both are rude.  Things appear to me dramatically improved compared to 20 years ago.  I occasionally play in ACBL-sanctioned duplicate games in Eureka; the people are friendly and fun to play with, and I marvel at the skill of expert players who are light-years beyond my game.  I've won a few master points in the "novice" classification, but they'll soon expire if I don't pay dues to join the ACBL and "register" them.  I may never join, because I don't entirely trust I wouldn't become overly hungry for points myself.
         Along with increased friendliness, air quality is another dramatic improvement in the bridge club environment.  In the late 70s, my mother and I played in club games in Buena Park, near "Knott's Berry Farm" in Southern California.  Entry fees of a couple bucks per player paid the director and the rent on a mini-mall store front, where games were held every day.  Many players smoked like fiends; the walls and ceilings were coated with a dingy yellow nicotine film.  Thank God those particular good 'ol days are past; I can't imagine stepping into such a place today, much less sitting there an entire evening.  The minute I got home, reeking clothes would fly into the laundry basket and I into the shower.
         Bridge clubs and tournaments wouldn't exist if this weren't an amazing game able to stimulate a lifetime of discovery and fascination.  Ultimately, all you need is four people and a deck of cards; eight can play duplicate.  Lessons are available locally, and there are great books old and new showing how to get started.
         With a computer, you can play on-line with people all over the world.  You may run into Bill Gates or Warren Buffett in bridge cyberspace--the lure of on-line bridge is how Gates finally enticed his tech-shy billionaire buddy Buffett to get a computer.  I'm not currently interested in on-line bridge myself, because I thrive on sharing the game directly with others.
         Along with the relaxed games at the Senior Center, I love playing with my family whenever we can get together.  My wife is learning; I'm careful not to overwhelm her with information or pressure her to play.  She may be starting to get the bug.  We play with some couples and enjoy lots of laughs and great conversation in and around the cards.  The game helps make just being together a real pleasure.
         My parents taught me bridge with tremendous patience, humor, and clarity.  Despite my childish resolution to resist the "dumb game," in the end I was eager to learn.  I hope I'll be half as successful as Mom and Dad in using this game not just for its pure fun and fascination, but also to draw closer to others.  It may be a little hard to learn bridge, but it's worth it.
 
 
 

        Please see also my earlier article, Bridge at the Senior Center, which includes links to the ACBL website and a couple other bridge sites.