Page 545 - WhyAsInY

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related to the change in circumstances. I managed to get along with the boys, who had consistently advocated for the union (sometimes, as I said, loudly and in unison, in the back of the car), desiring, I assume, to assure that their mom would be protected and happy. I even got along with Francis and Moussika, the two cats, mother and son, who didn’t really get along with each other. There were also two hamsters, Maver- ick and Gotham (where those names came from, I don’t know), but I paid about as much attention to them as I did to the turtles when I was a kid. Finally, Kathy’s treasured housekeeper, Marijana, no marshmal- low, apparently approved of me.
There was, though, the time when what I take to be my sense of humor did not seem so funny to Daniel. His soccer coach, the dad of one of his contemporaries, had called, presumably to tell Dan of a change in practice time or something else that came within his responsibility. I answered the phone, and I don’t know what possessed me:
“Hello.”
“Hello. Mr. Meyer?”
“It’s Doctor Meyer.”
“Dr. Meyer?”
“No.”
Dan was seriously pissed (as I guess he was entitled to be), but he
did make practice, and all’s well that ends well. At least, I thought so. (I should point out, before Dan does, that I had a second coach-related incident when we were living in Scarsdale and Dan was on the high school’s baseball team. Apparently, according to Dan, when his coach called to tell him something, I had pointed out that in the future it would be better if he called before 10:00. And the coach told Dan about it and not by way of an apology. I hasten to add that Dan thinks that it was 9:00, not 10:00, which is my normal “get annoyed” time, but, hey, this is my book.)
The other memorable event involved David, but this time the joke was on me (and Kathy). It was October 17 and just before 8:00 p.m., as Kathy and I were settling in upstairs to watch the third game of the San Francisco Giants–Oakland A’s World Series. (You can tell that Kathy
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