We have become the “what?” generation. At a 2nd Woodstock, we could listen to the sounds of silence.
I felt it was significant that I heard the news first from Myrna—Myron’s long suffering wife. You’ve all met Myron before—idiot savant, math whizz, accounting superstar and wealthy beyond all reason, thanks to his ability to pick the winning ponies. Myrna told me what all of us had known for quite a while. Myron had been to see an audiologist and found out he couldn’t hear. I figured Myron, who hadn’t called, was suffering with the news that he needed a hearing aid. I met him down at his bridge club in Canarsie. He just started playing bridge and has already amassed some 5 or 6 hundred Masters points, or whatever they call it when you win. The other players are talking about taking up chess.
I asked if he was okay about needing hearing aids.
“Of course, I am you wuss” he said with his usual charm. “The hearing…
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