Why I Play Pickleball

It's Not Always for the Exercise

Today’s goal is snow prep, Pat tells me.

Pat lives in a concierge condo overlooking the Potomac River and I’m wondering what kind of snow prep she has to do. Will she have to dig her car out?

Do you have a protected spot where you can park?

I do, she tells me.

Now she has my attention.

Maybe she has to make a last minute run to the grocery store.

No, I did that yesterday, she tells me.

Of course she did. There’s nothing last minute about Pat. When you need an advance team, Pat’s your girl.

Turns out Pat’s snow prep involves new covers for her balcony furniture. (Pinch me if I ever own furniture covers.)

We are cut from different cloth, Pat and I, but she keeps me on my toes.

Pat has just come off the pickleball court, the exact one where we met about three years ago. While she was playing, I’ve been on the sidelines talking to Neville, an Englishman newly arrived in town. Tall, carrying a couple extra pounds and wearing a wedding ring, he asks me how long I’ve been playing. I don’t mention my knees. I play infrequently. Mostly because I sail a lot.

Do you own a yacht? he asks.

The mere use of the word yacht tells me he’s not from around here.

I sail other people’s yachts, I laugh. Turns out he’s sailed everything from tall ships to dinghies, made long passages, and raced, too.

Later I ask Neville what he does for a living.

Biometrics.

Excellent, because I have a burning question.

How soon will I be able to upload my Virginia driver’s license to my iPhone? I ask.

You can do it now—today, he tells me.

It pays to get out of the house sometimes.

The less I have to carry, the better. The fewer things that get misplaced. Turns out Neville is, correct, of course, but I’m disappointed to read that in the event of a traffic stop, a physical license is still required in the Commonwealth of Virginia.

No police officer has stopped me in decades, but if one does, I want to have my papers in order. When it comes to snowstorms, I might be steps behind the rest of the pack, but if there’s a chance of facing a fine or worse, I want to be prepared.

I might not be selling cookies these days, but part of me will always be a Girl Scout.

You?