A game of Go…

My father’s father, with the bushy eyebrows, who lived (when he lived) in Union, New Jersey, used to beat the pants off me in chess. 

No letting the little kid win so as not to discourage him. 

Nor did it.

Thus did I learn chess and I love it to this day, though it’s been many years indeed since I last played a game.  Love at a distance then, though I by no means feel distant from it.

At Vicki’s prompting, we now have a functional 19×19 board and simple stones for the game of Go.  We played our first fumbling game in Santa Fe at that disastrous excuse for a B&B, Pueblo Bonito.  Stumbling in the dark, unsure as to the exact application of this or that rule, we covered the board in black and white and concluded, though again without surety, that I had won the first game.

From my lack of enthusiasm at this confused situation, Vicki concluded, incorrectly, that I wasn’t interested in pursuing the game.

But now we have one beginner’s book, picked up at Moby Dickens Books in Taos, and a reversible board with 13×13 on one side and 9×9 on the other.

The latter is best for learning and applying the basics, according to the book.  (I’ll amend this entry later, when I can find the book and identify it for you.)

And two additional books are on order.

Life is such a rich place to visit, with so many demands and enticements upon one’s time, it’s difficult to say how long our new fascination with this centuries-old game will last.

But continual lifelong learning is, as far as we’re concerned, the name of the "game," and I’m sure Grandpa Devereaux, wherever he resides in other realms, is flasing that wise smile of his across the board at me.

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