I’m fadin’ fast.  Real fast.  Warp speed.  Sure,  I still play well against the moribund, the sclerotic and a few cachexic gomers, plus, if ya wanna know, I do extremely well against prepubertal girls who weigh less than 60 pounds.  But … I’m losin’ to some bums these days, chumps that I used to beat with my eyes closed.  In fact, I don’t call them “bums” and “chumps” anymore.  I call them gifted and accomplished players.  Hey, if they beat me, why not, because these bedwetters are killing me now.  (Ed. Now you duh bum! Your arrogance merits this rightful comeuppance. Yep, you’re the bum now, the chump … the bedwetter!)
     Yeah, so okay, I’m not sittin’ on a high horse these days.   It’s more like a miniature horse.  No more gloating with a photograph of me with my foot perched on a carcass after a kill.  Now I’m the vulnerable prey, and now I know what they mean by oh how the mighty have fallen. 
     I never really knew how inglorious and miserable it was to lose.  I do now:  it hurts.  So I want to apologize for all those years of of being what I suppose you’d call a bad winner.  To all those losers I taunted and made fun of as stupid or inept, I’m sorry.  Listen, now I have deep, heartfelt regrets about that.  I’m sorry to all of you out there that I killed, and for rubbing in the salt to the wounds afterward by saying that you were stupid or inept – or both - even if you were.  My humble apologies.  Lao Du
  
Editor:  That doesn’t sound like a sincere apology, and it doesn’t sound like our wonder boy has serious remorse. There’s certainly no humility wound up in this so-called apologetica.  It so happens that I played with Lao Du the other day, and this reinforced my feeling that Lao Du has not yet joined the righteous and virtuous despite this phony contrition of his.  Yes, he may no longer be a bad winner, as he put it but, unfortunately, he’s converted to being a sore loser.  I want you all to know that I beat the yutz three games to none, and then he threw a tantrum … AND his racket.  Oh, and he cried!  I’m also pretty sure he lied to his diary.

G
​      Someone asked me recently if she could come and join us at PPP in Pleasantville. Of course, I said, we welcome just about anyone – PwP and volunteers – all welcome to come to our sessions. There are only a few requirements for admission. Naturally, we require vaccinations for safety. We had also mandated mask-wearing for awhile, too, but relaxed that as pandemic conditions improved in our area. We were always consistent with another rule, however, the one that said that no one was allowed to bring any AR 15’s to PPP.  Otherwise, it was just bring yourself and a list of active checking and savings accounts that you have at banks and brokerages, as well as notarized info indicating your cash on hand.  You have to provide these documents, along with your credit card and social security numbers to Lao Du upon entering the door.  (We don’t know exactly what he does with all this collected personal data, but we have all observed an updated wardrobe and a new Corvette with which he’s been tooling around town.  It’s the Torch Red one in the parking lot at WTTC, in case you were wondering.)  
​
Conspiracy Theory Goin’ Around The Ping Pong Club:  George Soros is negotiating to buy the WTTC in order to convert it into a Yeshiva, and will begin busing students in from Munsey after the deal is consummated.  When asked if the students will be required to wear masks, Sorros replied:  “No, only yarmulkes”.   

​Editor: Staff News: We almost hired a new guy to help us run the program at PPP in Pleasantville.  I don’t like to put anyone down, but this guy had the cognitive resources of a roundworm, plus he held some unsubstantiated ideas, such as this conspiracy theory that some players using long pips and antispin at our club were satan-worshiping anarchists who were drinking blood that wasn’t their own.  He had dropped out of college after one semester and, to my knowledge, had never worked at a job for more than a few months. (His last employer had accused him of malfeasance, nonfeasance and  misfeasance – that’s a helluva lot of ‘feasance.’)  Even worse, he had inadequate ping pong skills.  His social skills were equally deficient, in addition to his having halitosis and a horrendous case of B.O.  In other words, he had what you’d call a thin resume … and he stunk.  Nevertheless, we almost hired him anyway, because the present limping, older gentleman - the dinosaur that we’ve got, our so-called ringmaster who’s older than 3 previous US presidents - is all but ready for Hospice Ping Pong.  (Some anecdotal evidence is proof. 1: The DMV is about to revoke his driver’s license. 2: Recently, he refused to follow his orthopedic doctor’s recommendation stating:  “I already have a frozen shoulder, why should I put ice on it?”) 
     It’s not only his knees and shoulders which are shot.  His pacemaker needs a new battery  and he can’t seem to find his racket or keys on most days (or nights).  Maybe worse than any of that, his ping pong rating is plummeting.  It’s just so embarrassing for all of us here at PPP to see him playing with that antique racket he uses, the one that he probably made in his garage in 1954.  I mean, lemme put it to you this way: This old codger shouldn’t be spending his declining years up here in Pleasantville.  The guy is ripe (overripe) and ready for a senior living situation down in Florida somewhere.
     When we had to tell him that we were thinking of putting him out to pasture - Thank you for your service, but we’re looking for some new blood - his only response was that  there was no need for that, because he’d get a transfusion.  Can you imagine that? Well, whadda ya gonna do!
   Thing is, we’re still stuck with him for now, but it’s costing us money – for the defibrillator, supplemental oxygen and commodes  that we have to have on hand just in case something fateful occurs.  We had an emergency Board meeting about him, but hiring a hitman was ruled out … on a close vote.  We’re thinking of taking his keys on Tuesdays so that he can’t make it here on our regularly scheduled sessions on Wednesdays.  Of course, we’d welcome new applicants to take over his duties and for some new ideas as to how to jettison this geezer, but if this doesn’t happen real soon we’ll have to consider hiring the guy with the halitosis or taking another vote for a hitman ( hey, they shoot horses, don’t they?).
     If you know someone who can occasionally hit the ball over the net – and who gargles Listerine - please contact us so that we can replace our old coot. 

 ​     The  Corona Virus should have taught us that life and death issues were the most important
things to consider in our lives.  Didn’t happen.  Our ping pong ratings are apparently more important.  And in furtherance or proof of that assertion, one guy at the club says he’s thinking of joining QAnon, The Proud Boys and The Oath Keepers.  Why, you may ask? Well, he said people will be so scared of him (“they’ll be shaking in their boots”) and won’t be able to hit a ball back over the net.  He says his rating will go up.
 Editor:  So, why wasn’t this guy with the bunch that rioted at the US Capitol on January 6th?
 Lao Du:   He said he decided not to go to the Insurrection Party with all those Q’s on January 6th, because most federal prisons do not have ping pong facilities. (Note: The Biden administration is currently trying to remedy this in the reconciliation bill they’re proposing. They have budgeted enough funds to pay for Double Fish Tables at all high security penitentiaries  across the country. This is of special importance to those of us playing in Pleasantville, because we could make the trip to Sing Sing in Ossining and barely lose a day of ping pong action after committing a felony.)
Editor: Do you think this guy would  consider joining in another insurrection?
Lao Du:  Oh, for sure.  With the new table tennis facilities available at your major high security prisons, that’s  the clincher for this QAnon wannabe.  He said he would like very much to visit the Capitol and to meet his representative and senators in person.  You know, shake their hands … take their iPads. 
 
     In a related story:
     Pope Francis, the Dalai Lama and some PPP members are not a part of the cabal that QAnon says are Satan-worshiping pedophiles.  How does one know this to be true?  Well, it’s obvious:  None of the aforementioned uses Long Pips! (But, in keeping with total transparency, it has to be acknowledged that the Pope does have a wicked serve.)    Lao Du

       They’ve converted our room into a Chamber of Horrors with that Japanese sword fighting stuff.  At first  I thought that Will had rented the place out to a coven of witches, ya know, a bunch of crazies  who mostly howled at the moon.  Ah, I figured that these people must have convinced him that theirs was a social support group, albeit engaged  in some innocuous mysterious rituals.   But last Tuesday, when I  heard frantic streams  coming from in there, I figured there were  animal sacrifices going on.   I needed to investigate and maybe do something about it, so I stuck my head in the window next to Table # 1 for a look-see.  To tell ya the truth, I couldn’t really see much; nobody even riding around on broom handles.  Instead, I saw people dressed in medieval black attire  holding swords.  Turns out, the ruckus was coming from a bunch of samurai wannabes trying to kill each other.  I mean they were chasing and whacking away pretty good.  Kinda barbaric, if ya catch my drift here. Probably a few of them were getting injured, but no animals were getting their jugulars cut, as far as I could make out, so it didn’t bother me too much. 
     Well, I will say this for those engaged in this brutish anachronistic form of fighting:  They were real good at cleaning up the gore.  When we showed up the next day on Wednesday for Ping Pong Parkinson, I didn’t seen any bone fragments or blood stains anywhere.  And, apparently,  no one was killed, either.  At least that’s what they said, and I  didn’t see any corpses.  But ... nobody checked the closets.  Frankly, I’m afraid to look.   Lao Du

  ​When I was close to my 60th year I held out my hands for my (late) husband to pull me up off the beach blanket. Not because I couldn’t get up on my own, but because I thought I’m almost 60 and this is how old ladies get up off the beach.
 
Shortly thereafter, I took up yoga and learned that if you don’t make the effort, you don’t get the grace. In short, I learned to kick my own butt and connect with my breath. I am younger in spirit and body now and grateful that I did not succumb to impending old age.  That's lesson one.
 
Ten years ago my husband got a prostate cancer diagnosis. We both spent so much emotional energy worrying and forecasting his coming illness and demise. Neither happened. He died healthy and doing what was his passion - scuba diving. This was a reminder that we don’t know what the future holds, so don’t spend energy thinking about it.  That's lesson two.
 
Now I am no longer in my early 60's, but in my early 70's. Now I have a Parkinson's diagnosis and I am applying those two lessons in my coping and dealing. I do not know how my disease (I like to call it a condition) will progress, but I am being proactive in my fight to stay well.  For example, I joined Ping Pong Parkinson. I LOVE ping pong! It is so much fun! The fact that it helps my brain build new neural pathways added to my cross referencing  with others affected by Parkinson’s at our sessions, is icing on the cake. I could have joined a support group and sat in a circle talking about how sad we are.  Instead I’m playing ping pong!
 
Swimming: I don’t understand the how or why of it, but in the water the stiffness that Parkinson's causes disappears. I use a snorkel to keep my head in the water and exist in a weightless realm where my limbs are fluid and beautifully at my command.
 
Yoga:  Provides a mind body connection and breath awareness.  Also aids in strength and balance. 
 
So in a funny way, Parkinson's is giving me my best self.  Even if my condition deteriorates I feel good in the moment.  And the moment is all we have. 
Diane Gershen

     The other day a young guy seated behind the curtains and waiting to play, asked me what my table tennis rating was.  I wasn’t sure, but I said "2021" anyway.  The guy cocked his head and looked at me skeptically.  And then, possibly swayed by my white hair, he said straight out that he thought maybe that I was either exaggerating or confusing the year with my rating.  I tried to hide the socially awkward situation I was in by chuckling defensively, and meekly admitted to a lower rating, one more consistent with Columbus’ arrival in the New World.     Well, so what was I to tell him, that my Alzheimer’s was kicking in?  C’mon, it’s a senior moment.  Sometimes I may not immediately recall my zip code, either.  Does that mean I’m senile or presenile?  No.  Emphatically no!  What about a phone number or a close friend or family member whose name that you suddenly can’t come up with?  Same thing.  What about keys that you can’t find, or words that are suddenly illusive or names of actors that are so familiar but yet beyond immediate identification?  Same.  Stuff happens like that, but it’s not really abnormal or an indication that you have dementia if you eventually remember all these things, albeit with some lag time.      None of us, those with Parkinson’s and so-called normal aging people, are as sharp as we were in our 20’s.  That’s the way it goes.  We’re slower and have to recognize and admit to it.  It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it can be.    
      Of course, some of us will inevitably decline and have memory problems leading to real intellectual deficits and a diagnosis of dementia (Alzheimer’s, vascular dementia, Lewy body dementia – to name a few).  Can we do anything to prevent this cognitive loss?  Maybe.  I’ve gone to an NIH (National Institute of Health) internet site to get an honest, researched answer to this question that confronts all of us when we get old.  Here is what they say (verbatim) at preventing our brains from deteriorating:

     “A recent review of research looked carefully at the evidence on ways to prevent or delay Alzheimer's dementia or age-related cognitive decline. Led by a committee of experts from the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine (NASEM), the review found "encouraging but inconclusive" evidence for three types of interventions:

• Increased physical activity
• Blood pressure control for people with high blood pressure (also called hypertension)
• Cognitive training

The evidence for other interventions, such as medications and diet, was not as strong. However, scientists are continuing to explore these and other possible preventions.”

     So, bottom line:  Stay active, live  a healthy lifestyle.  Have medical check-ups.  Challenge yourself (learn new things).   Play ping pong.  Lao Du