Studly Doright came home from work this afternoon and dropped this packet into my lap. I’m calling this, “Instant Mood Lifter!”
Tag: golf
Close Encounters of the Arnold Palmer Kind
As I listened to one celebrity after another pay tribute to the recently deceased golfer, Arnold Palmer, yesterday afternoon, I recalled my own brief encounter with this legend of the links.
For Christmas one year I’d purchased club house passes for Studly Doright and my dad to Arnie’s Bay Hill tournament in Orlando, FL. We lived in Melbourne, FL, at the time, so we were only an hour away from the course. I have to confess that when I purchased the tickets a part of me was secretly hoping that I’d get to attend at least one day of the tournament. As it happened I ended up using the passes more than Studly and Daddy did.
Now, I’m not a golfer. I’m the furthest thing from a golfer anyone could possibly imagine. But I grew up watching the great golfers on television with my dad, and Arnold Palmer almost seemed like a member of the family. So much so that when he walked up beside me as I sat in the lower stands on the tenth hole at Bay Hill and took a banana from a bowl near the tee box that I just smiled and nodded and he smiled and winked back before teeing off.
It wasn’t until later that it hit me I’d been in the presence of greatness. In retrospect I wish I’d said something witty or golfy, but maybe, just maybe he thought to himself, “That was one cool chick. I should have offered her part of my banana.” We will never know.
Criminal Animation
On a typical Saturday morning one would usually find me wandering around Tallahassee or neighboring communities while Studly plays eighteen holes at Southwood Golf Club. I had planned to explore the annual LeMoyne Chain of Parks Art Festival this morning, but a bulging disc (not nearly as glamorous as it sounds) and the threat of rain have kept me homebound. Maybe tomorrow….
I’ve had a couple of cups of coffee enhanced with Irish cream, and a protein bar for breakfast. The forest in my backyard is bathed in that processed chrome lighting that accompanies cloudy days in the Florida panhandle. It looks as though a fae clan might emerge at any moment to dance around the toadstools growing beneath a magnolia tree. I keep watch, just in case.
I’m doing laundry and watching Saturday morning cartoons, and I have a complaint to lodge. Namely, whoever the hell is doing the animation for the cartoon Alvinnn!!! and the Chipmunks should be arrested posthaste and forced to serve a life sentence watching the original series. Maybe he/she/they would learn what Alvin and company should look like and draw them accordingly.
My years spent sitting enraptured by Saturday morning television surely qualify me as an expert in the field of cartoon esthetics, and what I’ve witnessed this morning is a disgrace. So, how do I report this travesty? The chipmunks look like sleazy rodents instead of clean cut, chubby cheeked faux-teenagers.
Flipping through the channels I find that few of my other cartoon favorites have fared any better. They’re either so heavily computer-generated that they look nothing like the originals or drawn so poorly that their original animators must be rolling over in their respective graves.
Today’s children, though, have been raised on this second-rate fare, plus, they have so many more choices than my brothers and I had with our three channels (ABC, NBC, CBS) that I suppose they don’t realize what they’re missing.
But I do, and it makes me sad.
Peace, people.
Apalachicola Art Walk
Saturday morning I had no idea I’d be sipping a beer at noon at a corner cafe in the small port town of Apalachicola. Having had the most luxurious night of sleep I’ve experienced in years, I lingered in bed feeling as if I’d been kissed by an angel.
Of course, it was probably only Studly Doright who’d pecked me on the brow on his way to the golf course. I guess his grey hair was halo-like in the semidarkness, but you never know.
Before showering I looked on Facebook and read a post about an art walk in Apalachicola. Knowing that Studly would be tied up with his favorite hobby well into the afternoon I made haste with my shower and got on the road.
I’ve written about Apalachicola before. The quaint fishing village on Florida’s forgotten coast is known for oysters and sponges and apparently, art.
I snapped a few photos as I walked about town:
I even purchased a photograph (below) by and directly from photojournalist Richard Bickel whose work has appeared in National Geographic Traveler, Conde Naste Traveler, Newsweek, and other publications of note. It makes me happy.
After a lunch of salmon and grapefruit salad (oddly wonderful) at Tamara’s Cafe, I drove across the bridge to Eastpoint and then crossed another bridge for my first taste of the beach this year on Saint George Island.
Studly Doright doesn’t understand my attraction to the ocean. I tell him I have a compulsion to be in the presence of sand and waves and water, but the only sand and water he acknowledges are on the golf courses he plays, and he does his best to avoid landing in either.
So I sent him this photo, and told him sand was a good thing. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t impressed.
I’m already planning my next beach day.
Peace, people.
Classic Car Dreaming
Studly Doright and I were out piddling Saturday afternoon. He’d played golf that morning, and I’d driven to Apalachicola to spend some of his money. All in all a win-win, I’d say. He made it back to Doright Manor ahead of me even after helping a friend move some items from one house to another.
When I pulled into the driveway, he was out working (playing) in his shop. I talked him into taking me out for dinner since I’d worked so hard at shopping and beach walking that morning, and couldn’t quite summon the energy to push the power button on the microwave. It’s a tough life, I know.
After dinner he subtly suggested we go grocery shopping, and I reluctantly agreed. If there’s food in the house I’ll eventually have to cook it or ignore it. Both require energy. I just am fresh out of energy lately–shall I blame it on the weather? Daylight Saving Time? Age? All of the above?
The Publix supermarket nearest our home is adjacent to a Sonic drive-in. As we pulled into the drive in we realized the first Saturday car show was in progress and the first car we saw belonged to one of Studly’s friends! Of course we pulled over to look, and for once I remembered to snap a few photos.
The car below was one of my personal favorites. I love the color scheme on this Bel Air. I want to say it’s a ’57 model, but I forgot to look.
Next is our friend, Pete’s car. It’s a ’55 Chevy Nomad station wagon, hardly stock. Pete’s been working on the build for three years, and it’s a beaut. He isn’t finished with the project–work on the interior is still in progress. This was the car’s first foray into the limelight.
Other cool cars from our evening:
Look at the Jaguar featured in these next photos. I’d never seen this model before in person. I love the way both the hood/bonnet and trunk/boot open.
We eventually made it to the grocery store, but Studly’s enthusiasm for food shopping had been replaced by visions of engines and headers and carburetors, so I got off easy. Hurrah for horsepower!
Entertaining at Doright Manor
We have company coming from Indiana this weekend, and I’m beyond excited. The men will play golf Saturday and Sunday mornings, while we ladies hang out in and around Tallahassee.
I don’t often get to interact with adults other than Studly, so I’ve been practicing my small talk. The cats are my audience. They aren’t very good at providing feedback, though.
Me: So what do you want to do today?
Cat: Meow.
Me: The Tallahassee Museum is supposed to be nice. I’ve never been there….”
Cat: Meow. (I detect a small variation in this meow, but I’m not sure what that indicates.)
Me: And I thought we’d have lunch at Kool Beanz. It’s outstanding and I don’t think I’ve ever taken you there.”
Cat: Yawn.
Me: Well if you’re going to be that way we’ll just stay in all day. Here. Have some tuna.
That didn’t go well at all. I’ve got until Friday to get my patter down. Wish me luck!
Peace, people!
Bad Combination?
I’m sitting outside on this gorgeous north Florida fall morning watching over a friend’s garage sale. The friend, Bachelor Dave, is Studly Doright’s best golf buddy. He’s an all-around good guy, so I offered to take on the garage sale duty so he and Studly could pair up for 18 holes. Great idea!
Bachelor Dave has some pretty cool stuff in the sale: Artwork, lamps, golf clubs, flooring, easels and tripods. His cast offs are nicer than my every day stuff. So far, sales have been steady, and I’m having fun.
I failed to mention that the garage sale is a community event in the Southwood development where Dave H. resides, so there are sales going on all up and down the streets in this normally laid back Tallahassee neighborhood. Some folks are out walking from sale to sale, but shoppers from outside the neighborhood are driving.
Now, I also failed to mention that another big event is taking place simultaneously in Southwood: A 5k run!
Talk about a bad combination. If you’ve ever witnessed drivers intent on finding a garage sale bargain you’ll understand the problem. Near misses, close calls, and extended middle fingers seem to be the order of the day. This could make Thunderdome seem like a polite tennis match. It’s certainly made for an interesting morning.
Peace, people!
A post
The man I love, aka Studly Doright, is playing in a two day golf tournament. He had to rise at 6 a.m., drive across Tallahassee, and play a stupid game for four hours.
I spent my day sleeping in until 9:45 a.m. and then walking through the Super Target where I purchased enough Tylenol Severe Sinus medication to last me at least a month.
At this exact moment I am enjoying a tasty Momo’s personal flatbread pizza and a pint of their exquisite Oktoberfest brew. I’d say that I win. I haven’t broken a sweat and I have a beer in my hand.
Peace, people!
Spring Break in Kohler
This seems to be the year that places we’ve visited have shown up on the Golf Network. First the British Open was played at St. Andrews and now the PGA Championship is being held at Whistling Straits in Kohler, Wisconsin.
Four years ago Studly Doright and I decided to celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary over spring break rather than wait until late July. During the summer months he’s always wrapped up in his company’s budget process and a vacation scheduled around July 30 (our actual anniversary) would take him away from the office when he most needed to be there.
We lived in central Illinois at the time near Champaign. Studly brought home some brochures on tropical locations, but for some reason I got the idea that we should drive up to Kohler, Wisconsin, about an hour north of Milwaukee. He was thrilled that we wouldn’t have to fly to our destination and told me to make plans.
Kohler is the home of the Kohler Co., an American manufacturer of faucets, toilets, shower heads, sinks, tubs, and much more. There are two hotels owned by subsidiaries of Kohler: The American Inn and The Inn on Woodlake. Both are part of the Kohler family and are outfitted with the most elegant and state of the art bathroom fixtures.
But what interested me most was the Kohler Waters Spa. As soon as Studly gave me the go ahead for the Kohler trip I arranged for us to spend a day enjoying the spa.
It was by far the highlight of my trip. I even talked Studly into a couple’s massage. That’s something I’ll never do again! Throughout the whole massage I felt certain his massage therapist was doing a better job than mine. Talk about stressful! In spite of that our day at Kohler Waters Spa was a hit.
There’s not much to do in Kohler in early March. We did tour the Kohler Design Center to look at the amazing array of faucets and such, but the golf courses weren’t open, so we spent a lot of time watching movies on the television in our really lovely room.
Then, as luck would have it, the weather turned very cold, snow began to fall, and before long we were in the middle of a full blown blizzard. Right–it’s Wisconsin. I should’ve expected winter weather. Those tropical destinations began to look pretty good. What had I been thinking?
After three days we decided to cut our vacation short and head south. We did stop and spend a day wandering in Milwaukee. We toured the beautiful Harley Davidson museum there and then found a nice hotel for the night. Not American Inn nice, but nice all the same.
At least in Kohler we didn’t have to worry about hordes of spring breakers partying ’til all hours and running around in skimpy bikinis; although, there might have been a couple of guys parading around without their knit hats and gloves. That’s what I call living on the edge.
Peace, people!
Even Par
Studly Doright shot even par today. Apparently that’s a big deal.
I took two naps today, surely that trumps anything that happened on the golf course.
Peace, people.
Praying for Eyebrowz 