Reason; We all really wanted to return to Michigan
Accommodation; San Angelo Lodge, Kimball Michigan
This years participants, Deano, Beaups,Boomer, Nob, Potsy, Guy, Freud, Daryl, Harps, Mowbs , Scruise, and Hailey (absent from photo)
Memories from the weekend;
Attendees:
Boomer, Scruise, Harps, Dary, Nob, Freud, Potsy, Beaups, Mowbs, Deano, john and Guy.
Absent:
Rod, Cookie, and Mel
Voting:
Beaups 5
Guy 3
Freud 1
Does anyone have the voting counts?
Golf Winners
Boomer, Nob and Freud with his O/T tie breaking 200yd drive to the pin
Harps's play by play of the weekend;
This year’s event had a great turnout, with a total of 11 showing up: perhaps its was Leo’s strong messaging around #35. In attendance, the usual suspects included Leo (Chair), Floyd, Mowbs, Beaups, Gary, both Scotts (McCallum, Cruise) Daryl, Harps. Captain Rob has to everyone’s delight become a new regular. And this year we had Guy back after a few years away and surprise surprise Mr. John Haley…..it’s been a while Johnny!
Not a surprise to anyone was Leo’s choice for this year…a lodge inside a golf course. And there can be no argument as San Angelo Lodge proved to be the perfect choice. The frat boy like house was a good fit for this group of aging boomers, with plenty of space to move about with our walkers, well lit rooms for failing vision, stairs with a gentle slope and strong railings, and toilet paper rolls within easy reach of stiff bodies.
Every year, I closely listen and watch for emerging trends and/or behaviours. Some of the ones that rose to the top this year:
· Not talking about turning 60
· The number of smokers continues to decline, as do bottles of beer consumed, while on the increase are bottles of water and the talk of dental coverage
One constant though…. lust over Maris Uffelman remains strong – we all lept to our feet to see a recent picture of her. And she still has it.
But back to the chronology of events. Saturday morning saw Leo prepping a proper breakfast (another check mark on the evaluation form). John had to say his goodbyes to attend a family affair. After clean up and maybe even a beer or two, it was off to Valley Axe Throwing Range in Sarnia.
Because we were in the USA, we had to cross the border. I was in one of the lead cars where we had a lengthy but interesting encounter with the Canadian border agent. The first thing that needed sorting out was what were Canadians doing in an American’s (Beaup’s) car? “Where is your car, and is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to be leaving the USA so soon?” When we explained that we left the wheels back in Port Huron and that we’re just “going to go throw some axes, but we’ll be returning shortly to retrieve the cars and worship the NRA.” This necessitated more details: A more complete description of AOTW was proffered to substantiate the uniqueness of our story/circumstances. And we were happy to oblige as she was actually quite cute, and the more we tried to explain, the bigger her smile and hence a greater cuteness factor. We also explained that she may well have another car coming behind us with the same story. She finally relented and let us pass. Coincidence is an amazing thing, for when we finally met up in the parking lot for The Main Event, we heard that one of the cars behind HAD ended up in the same line-up and, after a few brief words with our favourite border guard, got the response, “Are you the assholes….you're free to go.”
Once inside Valley Axe Throwing, we were both surprised and pleased to learn that beer drinking was allowed whilst handling deadly weapons. The ban on open toe shoes also made sense. After a brief wait, we were introduced to Brett, who was to be our event organizer. Apparently he was some kind of world champion axe thrower.
We were split into three teams: Boomers, Leafs, Stars. The contest was pretty straight forward, a bit like darts where closest to the bullseye nets you more points. After several preliminary rounds, the Finals pitted the Boomers vs the Leafs, with the latter winning. Congrats to Mowbs, the two Scotts, and harps. Following this, the individual champion contest was held, with Mowbs again proving to have the steady hand, scooping the beautifully crafted trophy carved by Leo.
The rest of the afternoon was spent back at the Clubhouse reviewing the event, car talk, and questions about how I choked in the individual contest (fuck you all, I was just trying to prop up Mowb’s withering self esteem).
Because I found myself drinking quite heavily at this point, my notes covering this segment are weak and cryptic…I did have what I thought were some funny stories, but months later I can’t remember the significance of these scribbles: “a dick tattooed like dipstick” and “Baby parts, tits vs hips” If anyone can recall what this might have been about, please forward to Web master for inclusion.
A catered dinner was delivered later that night (again, good on you Leo) which went over well. And this was followed by the obligatory bon fire, with the usual suspects sneaking off to bed to make up for sleep deprivation and/or a pee pee pull.
Sunday we woke up to fog, and for a while there was some concern that Sunday’s Best Ball wouldn’t happen. But good fortune was upon us as the skies cleared and the golf match got underway.
On the final hole, Rob Fleming drained an uphill, left breaking 20 footer to force playoff hole for his team, but in the end it was Leo, Floyd, and Nob taking the prize with Floyd's 200 yard three wood which landed 10 feet from the pin to assure the victory.
From there we went to the 19th hole to sort out the final act….choosing next year’s chairman. In the end, Beaups got the nod with five votes (because it was his turn?) to Guy’s three (presumably for his incessant drama being played out on the Plenty O’ Fish website.)
For the second year in a row, the location and time for next year’s event was determined before the final beers were downed: everyone agreed Leo had found the perfect place where burps and farts could be conveyed without judgement or ridicule. And who was Beaups to argue? A job so easy now a robot could do it. And so, it’s another one for the books, lads. Stay healthy and upright, and we’ll do it again next year.