Go

I got good at a few things in my 65-plus years, but chess, Go and long distance running were not among them. Chess seems a little passé to me since the days of Deep Blue and Gary Kasparov. Marathon running is just a personal joke, in my case. But Go, now... I've always wanted to get good at Go. It's one of those deceptively easy-looking games, like fighting with straight razors — death comes swiftly. There are men and women of my acquintance who play at a level I barely comprehend, although I understand the result. It seems to be a knack for knowing the one right move out of, say, 40 billion, that will advance their position and undermine mine.

Go aesthetics are lots easier to appreciate. The equipment is beautiful. The silence is beautiful. Even the opponents, compared, say, to snarky dorks who laugh when you play a chess move, even the opponents are... copacetic. Speaking of which, there's an AGA-sanctioned Go tournament in Peoria, IL on October 30. I probably won't go (arthritis, can't drive that far), but I'll sure be wondering about it. They expect players from ten states.