One time

My colleague friend Seth and I had another man date today for disc golf. We both are limping to the finish of the school year and need weekday diversions to make it to June 16. Golf is helpful, but thinking about golf all day is like a super sonic time machine.

Today’s venue was Carrboro’s Anderson Park, the home of a brand new course. My Google calendar warned me for days about certain Thursday thunderstorms, but the forecast had not been accurate for weeks. The clouds crept in during the half-hour drive to the park, and the floodgates opened as soon as we stepped to the first tee.

“We’re going to do this,” I said as I pulled on our high school’s baseball uniform and cap for extra insulation. “We’ll be fine once we get into the woods.”

“I’m fine with whatever,” Seth said. Seth is usually fine with whatever. I am never on time for our carpool. Whatever.

We needed to wait for two other possibles. One of them sensibly called to say he would not brave the elements. The other guy once ate a half-eaten pizza off the Franklin Street pavement and brownies mixed with candle wax. I decided he was on his way.

To pass the time, Seth and I played the first hole a couple times. I bogeyed twice while experimenting with my new backhand. When the wax eater finally arrived, water ran off Seth’s nose and the brim of my cap in streams. The rain saturated my clothes, so I struggled mightily to pull off the layers and go shirtless. I grunted a shirtless skinny grunt and frowned at my friend’s poncho, and we were off.

Disc golfing in the rain is like running for exercise; you have to try it once but will probably decide to never do it again. It’s hard to focus on your shots. The releases are hard to finesse. Impromptu raging rivers carry away your errant discs – unless you golf with a wax eater who will jump in to find it for you. I scored a soggy plus-23, my worst performance ever. We said quick goodbyes and planned another round for tomorrow.

I eased into my car worrying about the effect of my soggy buns on the driver’s seat. I almost forgot to notice that I did not need the windshield wipers the whole way home.

“Ya know I’d like to keep my cheeks dry today.
So stay with me and I’ll have it made.”
~Blind Melon