Father and son and a whole lot of questions

So Jenna and I were going through a lot of stuff when we moved our furniture onto our new floors. We came across a roll of film...undeveloped.

​She thought we should develop it right away.  I wasn't so sure.  Who knows how old the roll was? It could have been of anybody or anything.  To this point in my life I haven't been lacking without the contents of this roll. So I was...we'll say apprehensive.

Yesterday, common sense was overruled by curiousity. I dropped the roll off at Bedford.  The guy said it was really old and a type that hasn't been used in "forever."  He was scared the film wouldn't have survived but they'd give it a shot.

​It developed. The roll in itself isn't that interesting.  it was shot in black and white (?). It was a weekend Melissa, Dad, and Rosalyn were visiting.  I was (thankfully) dating Jenna.  It was at my old house on Oleander.  Dad and I were obviously on our way to play golf. I was drinking Michelob Light in a can.

Then it takes a turn for the surreal.  He and I are....signing golf balls?!?!?!? ​We are then posing in front of our golfbags...that are empty.  Then we strike poses...like superheroes.  

Truth is stranger than fiction.​

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In my defense

Ladies and gentleman of the jury. My wife has accused me of having an irrational love for the game of golf. Today I'd like to introduce a photo into evidence in my defense over the 9+ years of our relationship. My pursuit of golf comes from poor genetic coding not from a desire to spend time away from her. So I introduce this photo of my father yesterday.

I rest my case.

Golfed and beered out

This never happens to me  so I have say it when it happens.  I played with Mika at Fayetteville Country Club this weekend in their Member-Guest.  It was a lot of fun, a lot of sun, and yes...a lot of beer.  Heroic portions even.  Leading up to the tourney over the past 2 weeks I played 2 practice rounds and hit balls every single day.  A couple of days I found myself practicing twice.

Today was the culmination with our final round (which was much better than our first round) wrapping up at 5 PM.  I met the fam out to eat (Jared, Shauntel, Weldon, and Anne are all in town) and made my way home.  My skin is weathered and tired.  My legs are shot.  My head hurts and I really think my hamstrings are about to seize up at any moment.

A little bit ago, my phone buzzes.  Chuck has a tee time tomorrow afternoon and wants to know if I'm in.  I laughed for 5 minutes before texting him back, "Thanks but no thanks."

Noah's golf swing

I had to post Noah's golf swing this year.  It is so much more mature and consistent than last year.  As always I don't give him any instructions just hand him the club and tell him which way to hit it.

To tell you the truth- I just love the way he says, "Tell me when to Go Dad."

 

The X-Linked Bounce Out of Bed Phenomenon

A couple of weeks ago I went on my yearly guy's golf trip. The drive was 3 1/2 hours and we had to be there at nine. I was to pick up Scrumpy and be on the way. The alarm was to go off at 4:30 AM.

You know where this is going. How can I struggle to get out of bed at 645 each morning for work but I can bounce out of bed at 430 to drive 3+ hours for golf? Not only did I bounce out of bed but I was in the shower before the last note from the alarm had fully died.

What is it about the male genetic make up that makes the time or the amount of daylight outside irrelevant when faced with guy play. I think this peculiar behavior is isolated mainly to the male half of the population. I could be wrong but the women I grew up with and lived with throughout my life don't seem to have the same affliction. I was late for work almost everyday from age 24-27. In those same years I had a standing tee time in Bella Vista at 730 AM every Saturday. Not only was I up and on time after a 45 minute drive but the night before was often much later than anything I did on weeknights. I'm not a hunter, but it's an aversion to the cold not the early AM hours that I can't get on board with.

I love my wife dearly but I crawled out of the bed on our wedding day. If I had been on my way to go fishing instead of heading to the chapel I'd been 30 minutes down the road before my other self's Dr. Pepper had stopped fizzing. The thing is I was excited on my wedding day. More so than the 80th time I met Mika on the practice tee trying to kick the dew off my shoes. The phenomenon amazes me. Everyone I know experiences it either with themselves or with their spouse.

Well...I have a theory. It's not going to make my wife happy to read, but I believe it to be true. I don't think it has to do with testosterone. My thinking here is getting up to go fishing by yourself doesn't elicit the same mad dash out of bed. I think it has to do with the very nature of male bonding. Something in our DNA makes it impossible to think about letting our buddies down. I think most guys can live with getting caught lying to their wives occasionally. I mean as long as it isn't about a receipt for the 2-hour hotel room on a Tuesday afternoon. That's a tough lie to tell. I'm talking about the "Why are you 45 minutes late?" type of lie. Most guys that I know will lie to the spouse to avoid an argument but you would never lie to your buddy about this. One is there won't be a fight, but two I truly believe you don't want your buddy to think your a liar. Cheating is the same way. I don't mean fidelity type cheating. I can't imagine getting caught cheating at a sport, poker, or whatever by my buddies. The thought is enough to ensure I never do it. We had a guy abuse his commissioner privileges to post date his lineup in fantasy baseball one time. We're still talking about it 6 years later.

So I guess my main question in all this musing isn't about springing out of bed in the wee hours. It's what snaps inside a guys head to make him sprint to his car so his guy friend doesn't have to wait an extra 10 minutes before hitting the McDonald's drive through? Bizarre I know.