Discrimination

So it was in the news that 5 black women in Penn. were asked to leave a golf course because they were playing too slow. That was on the second hole. What?
Granted they were playing a fivesome (with permission) and that could slow someone down, but on the second hole. 2 stopped playing after 9 because they were too shook up, but 3 planned on continue playing.
They were told they took too much time between nines and had to Leave. LEAVE? Really. police were called.

I am sadden. But not surprised.
Lets face it Golf is a white man's sport. Few blacks or Women for that matter, play.
I always said that if I was single I would hang out at a golf course, because the ratio of men to women is like 20 to 1.

I experienced the same thing, but dummy that I am, I had no idea what was going on.

Mike, Me, Sharen, Bobby (RIP)

This was our foresome for a lot of golf.
We played many area courses. It was at Cary Country Club in 1992 that we ran into discrimination. We had the ranger tell us we were playing too slow. Ok, maybe, it wasn't the first time we were told that.
We stopped for lunch (which was included) which was handed to us in Styrofoam containers (not like the other groups) and we were told we had to eat while playing.
The ranger seemed to be following us and once told us we were parked to close to the green. WTF, we have played a lot of golf and know how to play.

When we finished we always stopped in for  a beer. Bobby suggested we go into town to the Cary Pub.
We get there and order and tell her we just got done playing golf at the CCC. She looked at Bobby and said very surprised. "You Too!?"
She chuckled and  told us our first pitcher was on her.

Then it dawned on us (Meaning me and Sharen). They treated us that way because of Bobby. Sharen and I wanted to go back and raise holy hell, but Bobby talked us down. It wasn't his first time being treated that way at a golf course and sadly wasn't his last.
I have never gone back to that place. There are plenty of area courses to play besides them. It's a shame too - I really like the course.

Child Abduction

My daughter-in-law, Mary's father died.
Lloyd was a funny, all around good guy. He had some health issues that slowed him down but never seemed to bring him down.
I never knew the healthy Lloyd, but I heard some humdinger of stories about him.
Mike and I traveled down to St. Louis for the wake and funeral to help out in anyway we were needed. Figuring we would be called on to help with at least one of the boys.
They got through the wake playing with their Murphey cousins.
It didn't take Owen long to get antsy during the funeral and Bryan turns around and asks me to take him outside.
I got him outside kicking and screaming.
He was screaming for his Daddy and flailing around - crying.
I tried to take him over to the playground and set him down. He took off running to the church. I grabbed him and carried him to the other playground a little further away. Still screaming and kicking. LOUD!
That playground had a class from the school on it. I spot picnic tables a little further away and head on over there.
I finally get him calmed down some - using pictures on my phone.
I look up and in pulls a police car.
The cop gets out and asks if everything is ok. I honestly thought he was asking if Owen was ok.
Mike is with us by then. We both look at each other and tell the cop that everything is fine. We were just at the church for a funeral and Owen was acting up so we brought him outside. Not thinking anything of it.
He ask Owen his name and what my name is.
Thank the Lord Owen tells him.
Turns out one of the teachers saw me struggling with Owen and called the police.
If I think about it - It could very well look like an abduction. He was that upset.
He calls it in and tells them everything was ok.
He let Owen sit in the police car and turn the lights on and off.
He ask him again who I was and Owen says - "She's my best friend." Whew!
The cop gives him a high five and a fist bump. Tells us "Sorry for your Loss".
and drives off.

Lloyd would of loved this story.

Missing a Piece

Bryan had some water get into their basement. No real damage just the puzzles that were left laying around got wet.
Mary gathered them up, threw out the wet ones and put the remaining pieces in a storage bin to be dealt with later.
I offered to bring them home and sort them out.

more puzzles than I thought

I thought that I could just sort the pieces in piles and go from there.
Ha, not so!
I pulled out all the "baby" puzzles. You know the ones with wood frames and knobs on the pieces.
I found 8 full ones and 7 missing pieces. Done.
I finally just dug in and started fixing as I go.

42 puzzles! I am fixing 42 puzzles at once. Granted some are just 9 or 12 pieces. Most are 24.
The majority of them are missing pieces - I have 14 finished all complete and I have run out of pieces.
I will be going to leave them all laid out for now. I am heading into the city tomorrow to play with Owen so maybe we can play huckle-buckle looking for the rest.

Those of you who do not know how to play Huckle-buckle: It's a game we played as kids. ALOT.
You search for something hidden and when you find it you shout out Huckle-Buckle. If there is a reason it's called that I do not know what it is, it's just what we said.
As an adult when I can't find my keys or scissors or checkbook or phone or anything, lately - I still think Huckle-Buckle when I find it.

Getting Old

The way I measure how old I am is not by the date on my birth certificate or drivers license. It's not on my Medicare card. It's not even on the tax forms I just finished filing.
I am as only as old as I feel. Right?
Then why do I get these reminders every time one of my grandkids have a birthday.
Our Grandson Logan turned 16 yesterday. 16! That makes 2 that are driving now.
If he's getting old then I must be too. Damn....

birthday celebration

 Stacy snapped this picture of us at the celebration dinner last night at Texas Roadhouse.
Happy 16th Birthday, Logan.