For me, Part I means the part where I haul the kids up to the club, sweating my ass off so that I can say twenty years from now, remember that first Open you went to–you got ten autographs–two on golf-balls, one on a golf-glove (which by the way feels as though it’s made from a baby’s bottom rather than any sort of animal I’ve felt before) and seven on your hat???? That part is over.
Now, I get to go myself and engage in my favorite sport of all time–People Watching. I’m a professional and I can do a pretty good job of it even while pulling one kid from the off-limit greens and snatching the other from the edge of the clubhouse porch where he’ll fall into the bushes and interrupt the perfect calm that only exists on golf courses and very conservative churches. But, to be focused and relaxed all at the same time makes me happy just thinking of it. I’ll have my teeny notebook in one hand and a margarita in the other…or should I drink something more dignified? I never drink so I’ll have to take it slow as Phil Mickelson in the rough (terrible example, but I’m tired from hauling ass back and forth). It just seems like such a fun thing to do in light of my normal life. Hopefully I won’t be struck by an errant ball. That would make all that not so fun.
I’ll go on Saturday and stake out a spot that allows me to see some golfers as well as women who’ve made the ghastly mistake of donning pink wide-brimmed hats for some God-forsaken reason. But who am I to judge?
I have to say, Oakmont and the country club have done a great job of not interrupting my daily life. There’s less traffic now than normal–the businesses in town aren’t thrilled about that and I can understand why.  But if the USGA hadn’t organized the whole satellite parking/shuttle operation the entire town would be bitching that we can’t even get down the street for groceries. Can’t please anyone, but me. I’m pleased.
This morning I hauled my early bird kids up to see the early players tee-off. It was pretty neat I have to admit. We were early enough so that Jake and Beth and their pal J.H. were practically on top of the tee. I wonder how much of this they’ll remember. I guess if I keep telling them they watched Tiger and Sergio, et.al. tee off it’ll form into a memory, huh?
Oh, well, the report from my childless day at the club should yield more interesting events. Here’s hoping, huh?
It is funny what we do so that our kids will have happy memories. One summer, I hauled both kids across Tokyo to go to a friend’s shakuhachi concert. We took three trains to get there and in retrospect it was a wasted effort: all they can remember about the concert is that the eldest left her swimming bag on the very last train, going home. Another time, my husband and I sat outside with them for hours, waiting for a lunar eclipse. They still remember this night, though sadly not in ways we had hoped: in particular, they recall the tree with all the bugs on it….
Watching people really IS fun. Listening to them talk is even better!
Kathie – I’m sure you will absorb a lot of good characters for your writing by being there. And, remember, the USGA is doing this all for you. We’re glad you’re pleased. 🙂
Mary, that’s so funny that you’ve reported the skewed memories of your kids because the entire time I’m traipsing over hill and dale pointing out various people and places that ought to be etched into their brains with all the awe I, yes I, can muster I know damn well they will do exactly what your kids did–exactly what I did to my parents…remember the crap. Well, maybe that’s a clue to all of us awe-inspired adults–it’s all nonsense. But it sounds like your treks were pretty darn glamorous–Tokyo, no less. But I suppose that’s the impressionable adult in me talking.
Susan, I’m impressed that you caught on to the extent to which I played a role in the USGA’s plan. They were a little pissy at first, catering to me as they have, but when I explained that I’m a future best-selling author they fell all over themselves to make me happy. It’s all in how you sell yourself, you know?