We woke up, ate breakfast and headed to the PGA National course just a few minutes from the hotel where we met some more teammates and got onto the Squire course- the weakest of the five courses on the property. I was paired with three other guys on the open team, every one of whom is a very strong player.
Mark, one of the players on the team from Chicago, has a brother Jon who graduated Tulane business same year as me (we even had a few classes together), a work colleague who went to Horace Mann, and a relative who is a member of Metropolis Country Club. The triple whammy!
After a shaky start where I doubled the second hole by chipping from greenside over the green and into the bunker and then blasting from just 12 feet from the pin to 35 feet on the green, I started to come around. I hit a 500 yard par 5 in two and birdied after a fairly prodigious 250 yard three wood. Nothing too exciting after that besides closing the round with 10 straight pars and shooting a 76. Overall, my drives and irons were much better today, but my chipping is still pretty poor and I need to improve quickly.
We finished up the round and hustled back to the hotel to shower, change, pack and get the heck out of there before they charged us for another night. At this task, we succeeded, and it was time to head towards the airport for our 11:20 flight. Needless to say we had a little time to kill. First stop was Outback Steakhouse where I made it a perfect 3/3 with respect to steak dinners in Florida.
Then we decided to take a pitstop in Boca Raton for the great though expensive tin of gold wrapped chocolate covered oreos meticulously laid on top little cardboard frizzlies. As we turned onto Camino Real and entered the roundabout the sends you toward the hotel, memories of family trips of old popped into my head, but sadly they didnt last.
We pulled the car up to the new guard station where an oh so very important looking security guard asked us our business. I said, "Evening good sir, we are trying to run into the gift shop for a few minutes to make a purchase or two before we continue our journey towards Miami." To this we were responded to: "sorry but if you do not have a reservation or an appointment, you cant pass. however, i am not asking you to leave the property right now, [hands me laminated card that says: for more information call this number] if you'd like to call the number on the card and make an appointment, i'll be glad to let you in." I picked my jaw up off of the floor, pulled a yooie, and headed toward the roundabout and down Camino Real towards the highway.
If my disappointment isn't apparent from the above, let me tell you- that interaction for sure disappointed me. Not that I don't believe in rules, or that rules should be followed and all that bull uh stuff, but again, what is the world coming to when one cant even approach a hotel to go to the gift shop without being told to make an appointment?? We decided that the hotel did not deserve our patronage that night, though I havent officially blacklisted it like the American Hotel in Sag Harbor. Apologies to my wonderful sister who was looking forward to these deliciousities.
So after this disappointment we continued south on 95 until we approached the airport. At this point the plan was to gas up, drop the car off and take the shuttle to the terminal. Wow was this a difficult plan to execute. We took a bunch of wrong turns and twice ended up on a dead end driving right towards a fence...nice. Finally we found a station, asked for directions and got to the right place.
Somehow in moving the bags from the rental car to the shuttle i touched or rubbed something with my left hand that did not agree. I looked down at my hand and found a few bumps...then a few more...then i was literally watching bumps appear on my left palm. These bumps are still there as I write this.
We met up with Gil Travel, got our paper tickets, waited on line, checked bags, brought the bags to security, went through personal security where Dad's nice green repair tools were almost though luckily not confiscated, and walked to the gate. Writing it now, it doesnt seem stressful, but until I sat down and played a few important tunes on my computer, my blood was boiling. Sometimes I really need to take a few deep breaths, count to ten, and just calm down.
I think readers can empathize with the turbo frustration that comes along with traveling, getting lost on dead end streets around an airport, your palm suddenly breaking out in hives, or whatever, but it is a special person methinky that can take a step back and realize the power we have over the way we feel. Frustration, anger, etc. are essentially chemical reactions. How about that- emotions are just chemicals mixing in your head? Kind of takes some of the humanity out of it doesnt it?, but looking at it in this way i think can have a positive effect- maybe reducing the time we experience the negative emotions and expanding and elongating the good ones.
Thanks for reading.
DS
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