profkf's Blog

As I’m writing this, I keep hearing the Chambers Brothers playing in my head. I am now, officially, a Septuagenarian. I’ve made it further than my dad did by over a year, I am the oldest male in the family bloodline and with the happy exception of my Aunt Irene, simply the oldest.

Time is a funny thing, there is no control, it moves both quickly and slowly depending upon what is going on at THAT time. As I sit here to write, I am waiting for someone to come and do something at the house and the waiting is making time seem to drag incredibly slowly, yet the simple thought that I am about to reflect on 70 past years makes it seem like it was truly the “blink of an eye” speed.

I have been gifted with mentions, calls, visits and items over the past week each one with a very special tugging of my heartstrings and too numerous to detail. There was one, though, in particular, that really through gas on this reflection fire: A book of front pages from the NYTimes each August 14th for the past 70 years from two very dear friends:

The realization from simply scanning through the book (a deeper dive will be forthcoming), is how very little, if anything, has actually changed in these past 70 years. Progress that was seemingly made, changes that were made, seem to have been, at best, temporary, many of the changes that seemed to be positive have either disappeared into the ether, or worse, have regressed to being worse than before the changes were made.

The quest for power, to keep the masses under thumbs, to restrict access, to dictate thoughts, to “legislate” not freedoms, but restrictions. The proliferation of false information to rile up those who simply take the loudest voices to mean that “they know what they speak of” is no different in 2022, than it was in 1952. The scary part is that today, with access to platforms that have no balances, folks like Sen. McCarthy would likely be surging in popularity, ala Emperor DeSantis (are they really any different?) The even scarier part is that voices speaking the truth, loaded with verifiable facts are simply ignored. If Edward R. Murrow were around reporting today and was speaking about someone like DeSantis, as he did McCarthy, would he even be listened to? When Sen. Howard Baker asked, during the Watergate Hearings: “What did the President know, and when did he know it”, that created an upsurge in those, previously “loyal” to RM Nixon, to actually think about the problem and to take the right path. Today, when Liz Cheney asks essentially the same questions, she is shunned and ostracized by her very own compatriots.

But it’s not just political, it’s the feelings that have resurfaced, “you must believe in what I believe in, or your belief is simply wrong”, “you must love as I love because only I know what love means and how it looks”, “you cannot read items x, y and z because I’m worried you might actually think for yourself, instead of thinking they way I’m telling you to think” and on and on and on…

I have never been a big history buff, in high school, most of my history teachers (so old it was not called “social studies” back then, were also football coaches who were more interested in talking sports than actual history. During my undergrad years, the two history courses I was required to take were taught by gentlemen who hated teaching “required” courses and would simply read back to you what you had been assigned to read. However now, actually having a “history” I have become more interested in seeing what the one decent HS history teacher actually kept saying…”the only thing we learn from history is that we learn NOTHING from history”: Gabe Benisheck, Cardinal Spellman HS, 1969 [I know it’s a well worn phrase, but he was the first person I heard it from, along with another of his favorites…”I’m going to read to you from the NYTimes all the news that’s fit to tint” that should tell you something about HIS leanings….but he was free to express himself to us back then, all the while allowing and in fact, encouraging discussion with different viewpoints as long as we could back it up with facts, and I feel soooo lucky to have been educated by folks like that and in a system that allowed for that, even though it was a Catholic School…way different from the way they operate now in the same places as I grew up].

I now look back, not only on the past 70 years, but much, much further to see how the “elite” have always tried to keep the other 99% subjugated in one form or another. I spend more time shaking my head side to side than I do up and down.

I also have a legacy history now, kids and grandkids and would really like to think that I have done something to leave them in a better situation when the train rolls into the station “When all is said and done”….it’s upsetting that it seems to have regressed and not moved forward in so many ways…yet there is always hope and always the chance to keep working to make things better…

Time….Time…..Time….it’s what you make it I guess….

Wow…I have been off kilter for a while..no reason, just was, maybe still am a bit. However, I do have a lot to say about the past few weeks, so here goes.

After returning from Dave Sloan’s celebration of life we had about a month and change of not too much. I did play a pretty good round of golf three weeks back, first time since my trip to NC in March, played pretty well, but the bigger thing was I played alone and after the cataract surgery was able to see the flight of the ball for the first time in what seems like forever. Then the final planning for our trip back to CT this time, a vacation of sorts (I know, that’s tough to swallow when being retired is like being on a permanent vacation). We were loaded with events on the calendar and they all proved to be fun and tiring at the same time.

First off: We found the BEST pet/house sitter so that really was a relief after the less than satisfactory person we used back at Thanksgiving. Then the drive to Savannah Airport was laughably simple and quick, parking a few hundred feet from the terminal even easier and get this….10 days parking, a total of $47….yup that’s it…Both of us have TSA pre check so that was easy as well, then there is a small “club” we waited in out of the main flow. Avelo airlines, new, non stop, no frills but terribly efficient. We ran into none of the horrible delays that many are experiencing. The flight took off on time, less than 2 hours in the air, landing in New Haven, the Turo rental car seemlessly delivered to us, and off to Wilton

We arrived at Tori’s and shortly after set out for dinner at Luc’s in Ridgefield (another favorite that we miss). We were joined by Laura, Tracy, and Amy and it was as good as we could have hoped. The next day was spent relaxing, running some errands including something else we really, really miss down here…a fabulous pedicure…there are a million places here in Bluffton/HH but NONE come even close to our old favorite in Wilton, that was a very pleasant way to spend the afternoon. Leg massage/chair massage etc.. Then one of the big reasons for the trip..Tori’s 60th birthday celebration at Rowayton Seafood arranged by our “guy” Josh and up in the Crow’s Nest. The food, the company and the wine were wonderful and flowing…Same folks as at Luc’s with the addition of Jill, Nelle, Paul and Dan.

Wednesday after a morning of “recovery” (Nelle graciously went to Uncle Leo’s to get Bagels and BEC sandwiches for breakfast), we headed up to Jill’s house where she opened her fabulous pool along with Bloodies and laughs and music. That evening was punctuated with dinner at Bailey’s Backyard in Ridgefield another fabulous afternoon and evening. We then headed down to Silvermine where we checked into the Inn at Grey Barns for the remainder of our stay. They now have three “apartments” over the Mercantile that were perfect for us. Comfortable, well equipped, washer/dryer and convenient!

Thursday we both went for long walks enjoying the fact that while it is summer and it is hot in CT, it is NOT like being hit in the face with a soaked beach towel the way it is in SC at this time of year, that led to may great remembrances of why we liked CT…the incredible charm of the old homes, walking on roads that we carriage roads a few hundred years ago, rock walls that in some cases are even older than the roads and just a special feel. We were scheduled to have dinner that night with another couple at the Tavern at Grey Barns however, Covid did rear it’s ongoing ugly head and they were unable to attend due to one having tested positive, so Tori pinch hit and, yet another wonderful meal was enjoyed by all, along with their spectacular cocktails and wines.

Friday again began with another great neighborhood walk in Silvermine and then dinner at the Cottage in Wesport with Pat Rosen. More great food, more great wine, more great catching up…

Saturday…I had the great pleasure to spend a few hours with one of the best guys on the planet…WineBob and then as if it couldn’t get any better.Tori threw another party keeping the birthday vibe going at her house. More laughs, gin, tonic, wine, music, laughs, herbal items.

Sunday: A slow morning, some Fred and then off to NJ to spend the day with Drew, Vicki, their girls Maeve, Ryleigh, Ellie, and Kate, Jon and their daughter Mara. We spent the afternoon at Drew/Vicki’s swim club where Sue got to use the slide and the diving board, and were we found that Ellie (the youngest of the lot) , is so water infatuated that I think she should be on a surfboard NOW!!…fearless and full of wonder. Then it was off to a local brewery to wrap up the day with pizza and various beverages. Talk about sensory overload…I think my age did show up for the first time that day…while the rest of the gang was waiting on a long line for ice cream after dinner, I slid across the street to Starbucks for some coffee as I was still facing the drive back to CT and was dragging…(yup old…) Having young children is a young person’s game…glad I was young when I did it…It was a hoot!! (but exhausting)

Monday the show kept moving…we went to Elm Street Oyster house in Greenwich for lunch and had a great time with Ashley and Dan and Krista who we also miss terribly…(yes, there were Bloodies involved)..then off to Greenwich Prime Meats for some Salad and Onions and shrimp for dinner and Laura and Tracy joined in and we sipped wine (notice the themes here..) and talked and laughed…

Tuesday was the wrap party so to speak…we went to lunch at Overton’s (another waterfront Norwalk institution) did laundry and got set up for the next day of travel. Then with Tori along, we went down to Port Chester, had a great dinner at a little Italian gem (TandJ’s ) a half block from the Capitol Theater where we were headed to see Counting Crows that night. What a fabulous show and an incredible wrap to an amazing trip…the opener, btw, Stephen Kellogg was incredible as well…no clue why I’ve never heard him before but I will certainly listen now. It was round midnight by the time we actually got to bed.

Wednesday morning…8/3…5 AM alarm….our 20th anniversary (talk about poor planning…)…off to Tweed New Haven airport…again a seamless trip…flight actually landed about 20 minutes early, was only 2/3 full, we had the row to ourselves, took less than 15 minutes to get our bags and then another hysterically simple drive back. Realizing we were in no shape to go out to dinner, we opted to pick up a steak on the way home (I grilled it and we barely stayed awake)…however I did open a very special bottle of wine…in their entire history, Silver Oak has only made the wine they call SIX 4 times, I was lucky enough to get a bottle the last time they did make it (a 2014 vintage), it made the journey from CT to SC safely and thought yesterday the appropriate day to open it…it was simply spectacular…and a wonderful way mark a very special anniversary…(yes, Mr. Clemmons…when life gave us a choice we drank the good wine).

So, some reflections on this trip…while we are incredibly grateful for what we have and what we have been able to do this past year, we both continue to realize that there are plenty of people/places/experiences/events we miss terribly…the original goal was to be able to live in two places going back and forth seasonally taking in the best of both, unfortunately the realities of life and careers as two teachers kinda put the kibosh on that. So we will continue to enjoy what we have and explore ways to visit and have visitors and spend as much time as we can making each moment special.

This is a big 12 month period….Sue: 60, me 70 in 10 days, Us 20 yesterday…damn, time flies…

Today, SCOTUS ruled 6-3 against gun safety…just let that sink in for a minute.

The incredible two faced statements (and yes, this brings in the likely overturn of Roe v. Wade) about states having the right to make critical decisions (and yes, we also know what “states rights” is a euphemism for) yet, in this case, what they did was the exact opposite of even that. The ruled that the NY STATE law placing restrictions on carrying handguns outside the home was NOT a choice NY could make.

THIS ruling, during a time where the majority of the nation is behind some sort of increased firearm safety is like the 6 of 9 flipping their collective middle fingers at the nation. Blood is still fresh from one of the most recent school massacres yet, these self important baboons have decided that NY does not have the state’s right to limit handgun carry. Explain that to me please.

Let’s recap here…highly trained and armed professional law enforcement officers in Uvalde, Texas took a long time to enter a building where ONE person in body armor had an assault rifle and was massacring elementary school children and teachers, yet, from on high, they rule it’s ok to allow more opportunity to carry weapons. Explain that to me please.

The NRA has bought and paid for enough legislators to prevent any substantial move forward toward safety to line their own pockets, basically 10-12 people are holding a nation of 329.5 MILLION people hostage on this. If we were even split 50-50 on this issue (and we are not….not by a long shot) that would mean those 12 people speak for .000008% of the population. For those who sat on the OJ jury where the DNA evidence numbers were similar in how small a probability there was that he didn’t do it, by any concept this number rounds to ZERO…think on that and Explain that to me please.

We live in a time where a coup was attempted and damn near succeeded, and those involved are still working like crazy to make sure it does happen again. We are closer to a Theocracy (looking at you here Amy C-B) than we are to a Democracy and yet, while anything resembling common sense and clarity and very, very exact pieces of evidence, written, video, verbal have been presented, those same bought and paid for folks are the diametric opposites of the representatives from the last similar run only 50 years ago. Folks who then put their nation and their democracy ahead of their own selfish motives. We don’t seem to be in that place any longer. Explain that to me please.

I don’t get it…and I’m afraid for this nation, for my children, for my grandchildren. It’s not too late but I don’t know how we get past this and survive. Explain THAT to me please.

There is no discussion, there is no sharing ideas and thoughtfully evaluating different opinions. What, exactly have we, as a nation, even as a planet, become?

There was a time, not that long ago, where GOP leaders came out against their President, and called for him to leave office due to the evidence, it was not based on party lines it was based on humanity and the willingness to do the right thing. Was it tough? I’m sure it was. Politically dangerous? Most certainly. But it was the thoughtful, correct move to try bring a rapidly dividing nation on the path to some semblance of unity.

Today, there is none of that, there is a quest for power, a need to control, no exchange of ideas, only exchanges of insults. Bodies are strewn about almost daily, much of it preventable. This latest murderer exhibited all the classic signs and they were ignored, yet, at 18, not old enough to buy beer, he was able to buy an assault weapon and devastate families in a small community, as well as many in the nation who simply watched the story unfold.

The reactions have been as suspected…outrage by those who have worked and continue to work to try to fix this. Entrenchment and “thoughts and prayers” from those who see this issue as a unilateral “right”, the same folks who would criminally charge women for making an individual choice will continue to allow, in fact encourage by their inaction, multiple murder scenarios over and over and over.

There are paths to solutions, but when the path is continually blocked, and as Steve Kerr so eloquently stated, we, as a nation, are being held hostage by 50 people…think about that….the entire population of this nation is being “ruled” not by one monarch but by 50 mini monarchs. Oh…and the same people who scream about the constitution seem to be totally willing to ignore the system of “checks and balances” among the branches buy loading the third branch, SCOTUS, with not a balanced group, but with the same power thirsty, life time position mini monarchs.

If even a little balance on both sides is not regained, I’m terribly afraid that my fading years will be spent observing the catastrophic collapse of what once was so ripe with promise.

A little over a year ago, my father in law, Dave, passed away. Due to the still prevalent pandemic, we had a small outdoor graveside service (it was really, really cold). The plan was to gather again for a celebration of his life when things eased up. Well, as much as good old Covid still seems to be hanging around, vaccines and perhaps the beginnings of herd immunity have put us in a position where we are moving ahead with it in about a month. While the “opener” will be a fairly formal church gathering, it will be followed by a more relaxed gathering over drinks and dinner. He and I shared many conversations over the years and almost all involved music and our shared love for reading about all kinds of things. Neither of us was much into formal religion (I have really become agnostic as any usual reader already knows, having shed the doctrines pounded into me by the largely hypocritical roman catholic church) but we both shared a belief in some sort of spiritual surroundings.

I have lots of great stories some of which I’ll be sharing during the celebratory gathering in the evening but the one thing that keeps surfacing is how very open he was to listening to and appreciating all things music and literature (yes, folks again you readers know, our political leanings were very different but never got in the way of our warmth and respect for each other). I know he’d appreciate the following tune from Warren Zevon, and would very much have loved the fact that Warren managed to kid about death, while including in a song references to movies, actors, and classic writers and poets.

Not coincidentally, Bruce, opened his show a few days after Warren passed with this particular song (again for those having followed along you know how Dave appreciated Bruce’s autobiography and asked to listen to some of his music because of it, even though he was more an opera guy). Here it is…hope you appreciate it as much as I do and know Dave would have if I had the chance to share it with him…Here’s hoping the ride was smooth and comfortable.

I was staying at the Marriott
With Jesus and John Wayne
I was waiting for a chariot
They were waiting for a train

The sky was full of carrion
“I’ll take the mazuma”
Said Jesus to Marion
“That’s the 3:10 to Yuma
My ride’s here…”

The Houston sky was changeless
We galloped through bluebonnets
I was wrestling with an angel
You were working on a sonnet

You said, “I believe the seraphim
Will gather up my pinto
And carry us away, Jim
Across the San Jacinto
My ride’s here…”

Shelley and Keats were out in the street
And even Lord Byron was leaving for Greece
While back at the Hilton, last but not least
Milton was holding his sides

Saying, “You bravos had better be ready to fight
Or we’ll never get out of East Texas tonight
The trail is long and the river is wide
And my ride’s here”

I was staying at the Westin
I was playing to a draw
When in walked Charlton Heston
With the Tablets of the Law

He said, “It’s still the Greatest Story”
I said, “Man I’d like to stay
But I’m bound for glory
I’m on my way
My ride’s here…”

This morning, I was watching, as I most always do, the 7am Sportscenter (I record it since it’s laden with commercials). Just as I was about to forward through one set I saw the beginnings of a commercial for a new version of Gatorade, talk about taking me back…bear with me as I take a trip in time:

It was the summer of 1969 and we had a bungalow on Beach 40th St. in Far Rockaway. It was our second year on that street and while bodysurfing one day I met a guy from one street over (Beach 39th)…Frank Heller, we hit it off pretty quickly over our love of all things ocean. He introduced me to a friend of his a few days later, Greg Gallagher who had just bought what was brand new at the time, at least on the east coast…it was called a “belly board”…today everyone and his sibling has them, they are now mostly made of foam and are pretty cheap..back then they were made like mini surfboards with double fins and were pretty pricey..The three of us spent that summer mostly wet all the time.

During that summer we spent a LOT of time at Greg’s bungalow, his mom was home all the time, most other parents were working (Far Rock was affectionately nicknamed “the workingman’s riviera”) and was always offering lunch and snacks. We swam, we surfed, we played cards, we listened to music with a cadre of other folks all usually gathering on Greg’s porch (every house had one, it was a gathering place) or on the occasional bad weather day, in the small “living room”. I also met his father, Charlie, a larger than life character, with a booming voice, a fabulous handshake and a smile that lit up the room.

Charlie was one of the preeminent labor mediators of his time and was frequently away working on one negotiation or another. However, when he was “home” he would always be part of the group. He loved tennis (something, at that age, this Bronx boy son of a bus driver and a secretary, knew nothing about) and asked if we wanted to play. Frank and I were a bit suspect as we didn’t want to leave the water even for a short while, but Greg encouraged us, so one sunny day when Charlie asked we said “sure” (he was ALWAYS Charlie, never “Mr. Gallagher…on the very first introduction he said that while he appreciated the sign of “respect” we were never to use a title with him, as respect was something earned, not a function of age, position or birth, his name was Charlie and that would be fine, I think that might be why, to this day, I hate being referred to as Mr. Fitzpatrick).

He took his tennis seriously, and he reserved some time on some of clay courts that were then in Far Rockaway as he said they were far more fun than the badly kept cement courts that were also around. He also told us we needed to dress properly (that time was still “tennis whites” required on those clay courts) and we needed proper tennis shoes for safety. Well, neither Frank nor I had any of that (denim cutoffs and converse were the “athletic” attire of the day) so Charlie took us to an upscale sport shop and had us outfitted properly. When my dad, saw me going off to play one weekend later, and asked where I had managed to get that “attire” I told him, he walked over to Charlie’s house that evening and wanted to pay him, Charlie just chuckled, told him it was his pleasure, not to worry about it and they sat and shared some beers while we went off to sit on the boardwalk, listen to the waves and watch the sunset [with a few beers of our own that Greg had managed to scoop up on the sly, lest you get all crazy we were 17, the “legal age” was 18 and no one was driving anywhere…no one had a license since 18 was the age in NYC to even get a permit.]

That brings me back to what spurred this long winded memory…The first time we played (we played doubles with each one of us alternating as Charlie’s partner as he patiently taught Frank and I the rules and how to keep score), he went into the clubhouse and came out with a new sports drink…Gatorade…the only one that existed then…the classic green…it was cold and tasted fabulous and really did work on keeping us hydrated and energized. On the was back from the courts he told us the story of how it came to be. That’s another thing I remember about him..he never talked to us like “kids” always conversationally as if we were his contemporaries, all the time educating us while listening to anything we had to say.

The following summer Greg’s mom didn’t look quite the same, she seemed tired a lot, I found out that fall, (we stayed in touch over the other 10 months of the year) that she had passed quickly from a very virulent cancer.

Greg and Charlie did come back to Far Rockaway the summer after, but something was not quite the same in either of them. Greg was a bit sullen, Charlie’s smile had less of a twinkle…We did surf and play tennis but Greg, Frank and I also spent time in the evening, listening to the Woodstock Album that had come out and enjoying some herbal therapy while we listened.

That following fall, Greg reached out to tell us that Charlie had met a wonderful woman who Greg was also fond of and that we should expect an invite to the wedding scheduled for NYC that spring.

About two weeks later (give or take some time, it was, after all 50 odd years ago ) He called and said simply “he’s gone”….after the first question I asked “who’s gone”, the next was “what happened”. He slowly, and with occasional breaks, told the story..

Charlie had gone to the doctor for his annual physical, was given a clean bill of health and a pat on the back from his long time Doctor wishing him well on the upcoming wedding, he told him to get dressed and he’d see him in his office to chat a bit. Some time went by, the doctor was taking some calls while waiting and he didn’t, at first, realize how much time had passed. He asked his nurse if Charlie has simply left and she said she’d not seen him..[small office, it was the last appt of the day]. The doctor went back to the exam room and found Charlie lying on the floor, he had passed away…..

To this day I don’t know if it was a heart attack, stroke or aneurysm or something else, it really doesn’t matter. Greg never came back to Far Rockaway after that, he was well taken care of financially we were now in our early 20’s, and were just finishing college. We did stay in touch, increasingly less, but the occasional phone call (no email or texts back then), and he talked about getting together at his place in the city, but life got in the way for all of us and we never did….

To this day, the taste of cold, classic Gatorade immediately brings back those same memories..it was a very special time over a few years filled with friendship, love, joy, laughs and being around many adults who gave us guidance but also gave us an incredible amount of support and freedom to grow up.

Charlie Gallagher lives in a special place in my heard along side my dad and Uncle Dom..I’m so lucky to have been around them…

I am now at an age where it is increasingly frequent that folks I know and hold dear for many different reasons are starting to “fade”…what won’t fade are the memories and the warmth that being around them even for a short while still provide. This house agnostic can only hope that one day, when his ashes are scattered on the beach to be swept into the ocean that somewhere such memories and warmth will continue on.

Sometime in the next few months I will complete my 70th trip around the sun. I remember huddling under my desk at St. Brendan School during the nuclear drills, I remember praying in class during the Cuban Missile Crisis, long before I became the house agnostic after a full indoctrination and years and years of examining the irony of my “raised religion” that allowed decades of abuse both financial and yes, physical (pedophile priests anyone??) I remember the draft lottery during the Vietnam war (and going on a 3 day bender when my number was birthday was picked at #309…meaning I had zero chance of being drafted and sent over). I remember the riots in NYC, I remember Son of Sam and how terrified we all were during that “event”. All of that does not compare to the dangers of today, not even close. I’m not even talking about the current climate of war in Eastern Europe or the still lingering and hovering cloud of Covid (though for my money, the vax has taken quite a chunk out of that worry).

I’m talking about the storms brewing and surfacing in Texas and other states regarding trashing Roe v. Wade. I’m most especially talking about Pharaoh DeSantis in Florida and his new plan to ban books…

Let that sink in Book Banning…including his latest opus…math text books…

What’s at stake here is thinking, and learning, and learning to be critical and open to taking in reliable, factual information and being allowed, never mind encouraged, to think for oneself. I have run into, and worked with, many educators who I fundamentally did not agree with, but in every case there was the ability to discuss and exchange ideas. This is what is at risk, the powerful have taken the founding concept of democratic ideas and sublimated them to the point where we are headed head long, toward despotism. Where only the powerful will have a say, where they will do all to protect their thrones and to where they will appeal to fear and hate that has never been removed since the founding of this nation on the backs of slaves and other put upon workers. To where a tax law change allows for full deductions for private aircraft, but caps deductions for legit taxes paid by the workers who most need it.

I don’t have solutions, or ever suggestions, even our most powerful tool of change, the ballot box, is under siege. Harder to vote, claiming a fully examined, fair result is a “steal”. All I can do is put it out there….knowledge is, in fact, powerful. Read, examine, listen to all sides, and most importantly, check the facts then check them again.

Bottom line is pretty simple….really treat everyone the way you would want to be treated…there’s nothing more powerfully good than that.

My playing “at” golf goes back to the summer of 1966. One hot summer afternoon in the Bronx, a friend and 8th grade classmate, Jimmy Paturas, asked if I wanted to try it out. We walked to a small course not too far from his house, Mosholu a 9 hole course that I found out much later over a century ago, had opened as one of the first public golf courses in the United States. I played terribly (had never held a club before) but I was hooked…I started to play more frequently and when I got my car and license expanded my horizons and went to many of the NYC and surrounding area courses. There was one summer in college in the early 70’s where I played 6 days a week and actually improved to a respectable level. It’s funny that the fewer shots you hit, the more enjoyable the game becomes.

Adulthood, kids, life and lots of other things took precedence and for many years golf either was pushed to the side or went away completely. During the late 70’s in grad school, at Colgate, I met and played some golf with John, someone who, unbeknownst at that moment, I would end up teaching with for many years at both Greenwich and Weston. Summers, at the beginning of my time in Greenwich, were spent teaching summer school, also with John and at least twice a week we’d head to the course after the morning classes and play.

As I got older and gained more and more and more weight, and my hips were getting worse and worse, I pretty much stopped playing….then in 2015 I had my sleeve surgery after my hip replacements, and was invited to play in a fund raising tournament at the little catholic middle school I had landed at after retiring from full time teaching in 2012 and was again hooked…

John and I started playing the occasional round together again, and made it a point to take a trip up to Seven Oaks at Colgate each summer to play two or three rounds over a day or two. Then, he invited me along on a trip to Pinehurst to play 4 rounds over 3 days in the summer of 2018. It was John, myself and his friend Brian. I played terribly but had a great time with the two of them and began to take my game more seriously. Upon returning I consulted a club fitter, bought some new clubs and started to play at least a couple of times a week during the relatively short CT golf season. One of the things I am looking forward to now in SC is the ability to play year round. I managed to get my game to the point where I was consistently scoring in the mid-low 90’s with the occasional high 80 thrown in.

So…when John contacted me late winter and said they had a major trip coming up to Pinehurst I jumped on it and signed on for the 9 rounds in 7 days component. I had not played much since moving but was still excited about the courses and the opportunity.

Off I went a week ago with my car packed to the hilt as if I was headed on a round the world trip. My play was to be kind “inconsistent”….some actually embarrassingly terrible…not one round came in under 104 and as it turned out I only ended up playing 4 of the 9 rounds…

Why only 4 you ask?? Well here’s why…during the round on Tuesday (the third round we played) going from the first green to the second tee, my spikeless golf shoes had collected some sand and when I put my left foot into the cart it slid across causing my right leg to slam into the cart just a above my inside right ankle. It hurt but I thought nothing of it. Then about 3 holes later I noticed I had quite the bruise and it was starting to swell. I did manage to get some ice from the 1/2 way house but by then the damage had been done. I finished the round but was kinda hurting a lot. That night I woke up at 12:30 am and was unable to get back to sleep…I opted to not play the two rounds back to back on Wednesday with the hope that taking the one day off would help. Thursday morning it felt a bit better but not great, still swollen (and my foot swelling as well), but I did play as the course for that day, Tobacco Road, was THE main reason I wanted to go on the trip. Again, inconsistent, but also a lot of fun, the course is very much like Bethpage Black, visually intimidating but a stunning lay out. I actually had two very solid pars on two par 3 holes and hit my last shot from the fairway onto the green at 18 over some blind mounds and had a shot at a closing par (nope missed the 25 foot putt). However, the amount of walking that day really had undermined all the rest from the day before and I made the decision to to leave for home the following morning.

Some things I learned while on the trip: First…I really like to play golf, but I really don’t like to play in an intensely competitive “tournament” style trip…and let me tell you it was totally intense. Second: I like my own living space…I guess I’m just too long in the tooth to engage in sharing accommodations four other folks, they were very easy to live with, but just the lack of space is something I’d rather not do. Third: I also like to finish the day with a very good meal in great setting….that was not the case here with 11 other folks.

Did I have fun?…overall yes, did I play well??….nope, would I do it again??? not for that long….and only on a couple of those courses…

Glad I tried it, happy to be home!!

There is no secret to anyone (all 3 of you) who regularly reads my stuff, that I struggle with mortality. Today there was just another smack in the face that things come to a close much too quickly. William Hurt, the actor, passed at 71. Why, you ask is that any more significant than a million other passages for me? I’ll tell you…….first, I’m going to turn 70 in August….so it’s too damn close to home…the scary part is I feel better pushing 70 than I did pushing 50, also I’m so happy with all things going on in my life…kids that are growing into their own lives, grandkids that are firebrands, living in an area where a “freeze warning” lasts for about 6 hours, and then a cold morning means it won’t hit mid 50’s till 11 am

Second…when my daughter was playing at Julliard, what now seems like a million years ago, my son and I were on line at the cafeteria having breakfast and just in front of us was William Hurt and his son, also having breakfast. A few years prior, my wife and I had been at the Willamstown Theater Festival and I ran into Chris Reeve (in the bathroom of all places)….when I mentioned that to my wife (now my ex, not for this reason) she immediately asked “did you get his autograph?”….when I said no, it would have not been the best time given the location, she simply sighed…So when I saw William Hurt, I went up to him and said…”I know this is totally obnoxious, but….”and I told him the Chris Reeve story and mentioned that my then wife was a huge fan and would kill me if I didn’t at least ask for his autograph…he smiled (while waiting for his omelet) asked if I had anything to sign….I actually had a business card and when I handed it to him he wrote….”please don’t kill your husband…Bill Hurt”…

I will never forget how friendly and how gracious he was and that is one of the reasons that notification of his passing has hit me so hard. Add that to my struggle with aging and the like and it hits like a ton of bricks….

I’ll leave this with the closure that I currently feel great, am loving life, have a fabulous partner in all of this…(yes, Susan, that’s you!!) and continue to plan, as I always told the kids at school when they asked, that 146 is how long I’m planning on!!! and in the passage, I’ll keep madly dancing…..