I was sitting here with my wife, relaxing and an image of my dear grandfather flashed through my mind. During my formative years my mother and I lived in Virginia. We used to travel up to New York to visit family. I remember the days in which we would enjoy communion of family (a very loud family) and share the many wonderous stories of our lives. We would sit there and talk into the wee hours of the night. On many a night we would have a late dinnner at which time the talk'n started about who would suffer under the right hand of who. Granddad would make that half serious/half smirky face that told of his yearning to play. Cheryl would get the dominoes, the table cover and some sweetbread and the occasional cup of tea (with carnation milk) for Granddaddy. Without a moment's notice we would be engaged in a heated battle of wits and dominoe slamming. As kids I remember waiting for our turn to be invited to the table to play. This was a rite of passage, a ritual that we had in which one would watch the game until you were old enough to understand the game was not about matching tiles but about strategy and bragging rights. SOW was the word de jour and you were in trouble and the butt of the rousing for the evening if you got a six love. I remember those days like yesterday. I will always cherish them and miss them as it wil never be the same without Granddad's grandstanding ways.... Thanks for the memories!