Hanging out with D in Arizona
Trip Start Nov 08, 2006
261Trip End Ongoing
So Derek and I hung out for a couple of days, then my dad came to visit. That was really cool - getting to have some guy time and play lots of golf. My dad loves golf. So does Derek, but probably not as much. I like it, but the least of the 3. That means that my dad wanted to play a round of golf every day, which we did, but he also wanted to chip and putt for another 6-7 hours every afternoon. My father hovers somewhere between ambitious and A.D.D. Sitting on the couch and talking is not a pastime. Talking is only acceptable as a supplementary activity when combined with painting a house, building a fence, digging a ditch, or filling the ditch back in when you're done. Why do Baby Boomers feel the compulsion to work so much? I think Truman put something in the water to inspire the nation's children to help with the war effort and it affected fetal development. My dad was born prematurely, according to him "because there was work to be done and he couldn't just lay around in a uterus all day." He's still trying to make up for those 7 months he wasted in the womb.
So we played 3 rounds of golf in 3 days. I played pretty well, which made me happy, because my dad and brother are both much better than I am and I hate getting my ass kicked. I shot a 91 on the second day, which is pretty impressive since I've only played twice since I came to Thailand. On the last day I played like an epileptic monkey and hit the ball everywhere but the fairway. Playing in the desert is hard. You can hit out of the woods, but teeing off from a cactus is prohibitively difficult. So I think I took in the neighborhood of 18 penalty strokes, which unless you're into S&M, is not a good thing. Plus my back hurt because 31 is apparently older than I realized and my spine has been misaligned by years of third-world buses and trains. So I had to start drinking on the back nine and would have thrown my clubs into a man-made lake if they had actually been my clubs, but they were Derek's so I played it cool. What was really fun to watch was my dad's steady regression from trying to coach me, to openly laughing at me, to shaking his head at me in shame, to pretending he didn't know me when the cart girl asked if it was my first time playing.
After the weekend o' golf and fun, my dad headed back to Texas and Derek and I took off to California. He had some work to do, and I had a friend to see.