Catching Up - Misc.

As you can see here at Rm113 on May 30, 2006, the blog has not yet been pimped. I must confess, I'm looking forward to the new layout. Although I still don't see what's so terribly awful about the current black-grey-red. At least the text isn't bright white on a black background. That would certainly hurt the eyes much worse.

The other day, I mentioned golfing very badly. I've played golf once since my freshman year of high school until last week. I played a round at a course up in Celina, where the Warnock wedding was. 12 of us split into 3 foursomes and played a scramble. This was not exactly a St. Andrews type golf course, and I'm not a golf course aficionado, but I'd venture to describe this muni as some combination of Delhi Par 3 (not too long) and Miami Whitewater (wide open). It was darn near impossible to lose a ball. Nevertheless, none of the 3 groups managed to shoot par, even with the benefit of choosing the best shot on every stroke. My foursome was essentially a threesome, as we took approximately 4 of my shots all day. The second foursome was drunk. The third foursome included my dad (who was playing his first round since he got his new hip last year). We wasn't very good.

After 18 frustrating holes, Jeff (the groom) and I kept driving around the course until we found the other groups. We ended up playing 15 thru 18 a second time. Our golf etiquette was bad. We made entirely too much noise, made entirely too many divots beyond repair, we intentionally drove our carts into puddles that were big enough to fish in, and we did not leave the course in the same condition we found it in. Thankfully, we will probably never be back. We probably wouldn't be welcomed back. I'm glad we continued playing after 18, because it allows me to brag about...

...the official Shot of the Day! 16 was a 170 yard par 3. The pros would likely be taking a 7-iron, right? Naturally, I teed one up and fired away with my driver. (I don't know why I took a set of clubs... the only clubs I used in 22 holes were driver, 4-iron, 7-iron, and putter.) It felt good... solid contact... ball went straight... and I figured it was probably on the green. As we approached the green, sure enough, there was my ball, 3 feet from the hole. It was beautiful. And yet, this is why I don't play golf... because I suck. And even when I don't suck (for example when I set myself up for a 3 foot birdie putt), I still suck (for example, missing said 3 foot birdie putt).

Robyn and I are yet to formally celebrate the 3-year anniversary. It needs to happen. It needs to happen soon. And it needs to involve fondue. I swear, I'm a heterosexual, happily married man. We like to hit up The Melting Pot here in town. I was very uneasy about going there the first time, but it ended up being such a great evening that we've made it our tradition. Life gets so busy that entirely too many meals are either rushed or consumed alone and on the run. Every now and then, our fondue dinner forces us to take 2-3 hours because, well, that's how long it takes. Those hours are spent in a booth, forcing us to chill out, speak to each other, and relax. And the food is good, too. So, fellas, if you have a hectic schedule and a wife, I recommend this place. And don't bail on dessert... I'm yet to hear of a wife that doesn't approve of chocolate fondue.

My two 'Oester' fantasy league teams are living two entirely different fates right now. One is tearing up the GCL (Government Cheese League) while the other has suffered a severe fall from 1st to 6th place in a matter of 2 weeks.

Speaking of the GCL, I can happily report that Jeff called, from his honeymoon, to inquire about his team. Good job, Jeff. Way to have your mind on all the right things.