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Point of View: ‘Not Yet, Not Yet,’ He Said

Wed, 05/15/2024 - 18:39

I asked my publisher daughter and son-in-law if it were all right to wear warmup pants and a Bonac hoodie to the Press Club of Long Island’s Hall of Fame induction ceremony on June 13, but was told that the dress code was more formal. Okay, I would buy a pair of pants, then, lightweight ones, because the pants in the closet at home are heavy and ill-fitting.

My brother-in-law said I could get a pair through Land’s End, but a fellow tennis player, with whom I consulted at the North Main Street I.G.A., said, as she handed me an avocado that wasn’t as hard as a rock, “Go to the L.V.I.S. — you can get a pair for 10 bucks!”

That sounded good, because I know that often the L.V.I.S. is the beneficiary of entire tony wardrobes. “I don’t know why in the obits we don’t put people’s sizes in,” I said to Russell Bennett when I told him what I’d been advised. “You know, as in, ‘Jack Graves (35 waist, 31 inseam) died this week after a long battle with the Times crossword puzzle. . . .’ ”

“And you might add,” my son-in-law said, “that, ‘aside from his immediate survivors, Mr. Graves also leaves a spacious garage apartment. . . .’ ”

With innovations like these, The Star might well be selling like hotcakes again. We must stay relevant. That’s why I announced recently on social media that I had a vitamin D deficiency.

“Live long enough,” I’ve been saying to people who’ve congratulated me on my induction-to-be, and who nod knowingly and part before I get to add how deserving I am. After all, I’m probably the last local sportswriter who takes clay tablets and a stylus to the games he covers.

That fact must have proved persuasive when it came to the P.C.L.I. committee’s deliberations. “Now I can die in peace,” I said when Brendan O’Reilly called to inform me.

“Not yet, not yet,” he said.

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