We played a game of poker at the campsite, with him putting his beloved truck up, and me putting my wife up. My wife Justine always told me she had the hots for my friend Greg. It was her idea to play a game of poker, but we needed more serious stakes than the usual hundred bucks. It was her idea, again, that she be the stake. She reminded me what I always said - a weekend camping up there was like a time and place that doesn't exist in the real world. "He's just . . . " she paused, " . . . recreational." But now they go camping together all the time without me . . .