In Search of Another

Treasure hunters, gamblers, yard salers or even individuals who have a healthy passion for a challenge, which may make for an exciting story, have a common denominator amongst them.  They all are in quest of that rare event that defies the odds, yet on any given day, they may achieve that success which makes their effort and at times, frustration all worth it.  There have been books written about the trials and tribulations of such people with some ending in success, while others are still looking for that elusive prize, the proverbial pot o' gold.  Our imaginations feast on such things making it all the more addictive and unhealthy at times.  I had such an experience this summer, so let me share the "hole" story.

It began several years ago, in May of of 2021 to be exact, my nephew was getting married in California, so the family decided to make an extended vacation out of it.  We visited Yosemite and then made our way to Carmel.  It was in Carmel that we planned to meet with others making the trip to CA.  Because of work commitments, my daughter and her boyfriend, an avid golfer, would plan to join us and then make the trek down the Big Sur.  However, before heading to San Luis Obispo, we had a couple days in Carmel to enjoy the sites.

On the first evening in Carmel, we gathered to celebrate our inaugural gathering following the onset of Covid.  This is where I had the opportunity to meet my daughter's new boyfriend, and obviously a chance to be introduced before playing golf the next day.  Of course, we were all relieved to see each other in person, rather than through the lens of telecommunication.

Knowing that my daughter's boyfriend was a golfer, I asked him a few leading questions to start our conversation.  Eventually, I asked him if he'd ever had a hole in one, to which he responded, YES, three!  Naturally, I was impressed by that alone, having never had one myself.  However, he quickly shared that he had a good feeling about tomorrow's prospects for me, and we laughed and moved on to other topics.

After breakfast and an early morning hike along the Pacific Ocean, it was time to head off to the golf course, Pacific Grove Golf Links or the "Poor Man's Pebble Beach" to the locals.  We had lunch at the course and only enough to time to hit a few chip shots and roll some putts, the "perfect" warm-up after a long winter with the clubs resting exactly where I left them in the fall before the trip.

On the first tee, a par 3, 146 yards, I stood feeling my daughter's piercing eyes, having seen me play only on a miniature golf course, and her boyfriend, my possible future, son-in-law watching intently.  Pressure?  Like you read about!  I recall, just relax and don't dribble one off the front of the tee.  When I connected with the ball, I remember, I think I flushed it.  My daughter said, "Dad, that looked like a pretty good shot."  I just agreed, and said it felt good.  I then hit a second shot, a breakfast ball as they say, for good measure, which I saw go just long of the green.  I was just happy not to embarass myself.

As we walked up to the green and only saw the one ball, that's when it occurred to me that I may have just hit my first hole in one, a rarity and mind you, predicted, with my daughter and her boyfriend as my witnesses.  When I looked in the hole and saw the ball resting at the bottom, my emotions went into overdrive.....this moment couldn't have been scripted any better.   Playing golf with my daughter and her boyfriend, the first hole, and near golf's "hallowed" ground, a virtual trifecta!

Of course, after hitting the hole in one which seemed so easy, I expected it to happen again soon.  Wrong!  The odds of hitting a hole in one for an amateur have been reported to be on the order of 12,500 to 1, and putting that into perspective, it was probably not likely to happen again anytime soon.

After our round and arriving back at the club house, I shared my story with one of the attendants.  He indicated that I could request a certificate proclaiming this rare event, if I spoke to the gentlemen in the pro shop.  So, I wandered over to the pro shop and indicated my purpose for being there, and the reaction was immediate, "So you're the guy who had the hole in one.  We saw it go in!"  

Getting a hole in one is one of those events that you hope happens, but the way it unfolds is hardly predictable or scriptable.  Well, not always, as it played out in this case.  It has made for a very memorable story and one I have readily shared.

Fast forward to July 4th, 2026, a beautiful day in which the country was celebrating its 250th anniversary of our independence, perfect for a few early morning holes of golf.  Before heading off to yet another family wedding, I thought it would be nice to get in some exercise.  

Playing golf has become a new passion, but when you do it fast, it's real exercise!  In order to get in as many holes as possible, I tee off at first light, long before the course gets crowded, and consequently, I have been rewarded with many beautiful sunrises.  The fourth of July was already special due to its significance and the family wedding, so the cosmic tumblers were in place.  However, accurately predicting a hole in one is just about as rare as the occurrence itself, but my now son-in-law mentioned it before saying good night, the final blessing.

After an hour and a half, and the competition for freedom on a wide open course, I made my way to the par 3, 8th hole.  A 155 yard hole over a grass filled depression, waiting to accept a number of wayward tee shots; but not today.  After a quick survey of the conditions, I launched my 5 wood on the line of flight I visualized.  When the ball landed on the green, I could see it tracking toward the hole.  It came to rest in line with the flag stick, so I surmised that it was close.  Seconds passed and I could still see it like a beacon signaling in the distance.  Then suddenly, it was gone.  The florescent yellow ball wasn't to be seen.  What just happened?  Had a turkey come through and picked it up?  That's when I said to myself, "I think I just hit a hole in one."  However, before briskly walking to the green to investigate the situation, I pulled out another ball and hit another tee shot, because this was perhaps my lucky day, so why not?  That tee shot hit the green on the left but clearly wasn't on the same line.

When I arrived at the green I could see the track of the ball in the morning dew, right on line towards the hole and dead center on the flag stick, so when I looked into the cup, there it was staring at me light like the beacon it had been before it fell in.  Excitement immediately came over me, as it would have for anyone, but no spectators.  I took several quick pictures for documentation and then putted the other ball for fun, which dropped in for a birdie!  Yikes, this was my lucky day...the 4th of July, 2026, my nieces wedding, and another ace as part of wedding activities.  

So, here I am playing golf, mostly because of the walking and its cardiovascular benefits.  However, having finally hit a hole in one and then another, I'm thinking that it's a regular event for those fortunate few who have luckily, experienced this  The statistics, however, don't bear this out, and there are life long golfers who never achieve the thrill of an ace.  So, what am to think?  

I now look at golf in a different light, the cardiovascular benefits of walking fast, early morning or late day play to avoid the crowds or the damaging effects of the Sun.  More importantly, however, it has provided me an opportunity to reflect on the beauty and solitude golf courses rarely exploit, and to me that's the "ace in the hole" I'd been searching for all these years!

It made no sense to me

On several occasions before my brother and I were in school, my parents planned trips to visit relatives.  This gave them a much needed break from work, and we would get to see our cousins.  It doesn't sound too restful, but when you come from a family of eight, any reduction in the masses was a welcomed relief.

When my parents traveled in those early years, they often did so separately out of fear of an accident.  Leaving such a large family behind would have been a tragedy in and of itself, so on this particular trip, my father took my younger brother and they flew to Biloxi, MS, while my mother and I traveled by Trailways to DC first, having a planned overnight with my uncle, and then onto MS from there.  My uncle, my father's brother, lived in Washington and worked for the government.  We were unable to do much sight seeing, but I remember many of the  recognizable monuments looking so beautiful all lit up, just like in the pictures.  He lived in the Georgetown section of the city in a white brick townhouse. We ate at a Howard Johnsons like restaurant and had ice cream.  What more could a young kid ask for?

The details of the bus ride itself naturally are rather muddled at this point, but I have a very clear recollection of one of our stops in Alabama the following day.  Since the buses in those days didn't have a restroom on board, we made scheduled stops along the way.  Passengers would depart and others would board, while those of us through passengers were given the opportunity to use the facilities.  Oftentimes, the small towns had public restrooms near the bus stops, typically in the town square, like the one in Forest Gump.  At one stop, I told my mom I was going to use the restroom.  I remember finding the men’s room and started to enter when a nice gentleman said to me, “this one is for us and the one for you is over there.”  I didn’t question him and proceeded accordingly.  I also noted 2 drinking fountains with labeling indicating why, which equally seemed very strange to me, but I was 5.

Now, many years later, I reflect on that brief moment in time and how even at that age, it seemed odd.  I recently watched the movie “Hidden Figures”, and sadly, there were several scenes that struck me in the same, questioning way.  I found myself asking “why” all over again, just as I had 63 years ago.  It didn’t make sense to me then and it still doesn’t make sense.  Shouldn’t we expect to acquire wisdom through our experiences and utilize that going forward?  Our differences are nothing more than the things that make us individuals.  After all, aren’t we all created equal and there is no hidden meaning in that!

Stories that left us in stitches

Many have heard the term, "accident prone", and it congers up is an image of someone who just seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Is it carelessness?  Is it a measure of risk taking?  Or is it just bad luck lurking nearby?  Perhaps, it's nothing more than a combination of all of these things.  Well, when my brothers and I were kids, we would have been characterized as accidents waiting to happen and that's where this story begins.

Growing up in a large family, increases the odds of mishaps, and we were no exception.  We spilled things, broke things, and occasionally had other minor incidents that could be characterized as accidents.  Naturally, many were minor but some of them required the expertise of our very own team doctor, otherwise known as dad.

Before my 2 younger brothers and I were in school, we spent our days entertaining each other under the watchful eye of our mom.  Naturally, she tried to accomplish anything she could while keeping 3 very energetic preschoolers busy.  We helped her with things that potentially wouldn't create a hindrance to the goal of managing a household.  She mentored us as painters, carpenters, and even short order cooks on occasion.  Of course, the list of projects seemed endless, and the list grew faster than she could check the things off.

On this particular day, my mother was interrupted by a phone call from my aunt.  The 2 of them would discuss adult stuff while my brothers and I carried on.  When the door bell rang we quickly offered to see who was there.  Well, it was a gentleman delivering a package from the USPS.  It was as if it was Christmas day; we couldn't wait to open it up to see what treasures were inside.  Since mom was distracted with her phone call, this was the perfect opportunity to take matters into our own hands.  In those days, packing tape was rarely used and this package was tied up with twine.  Naturally, we hadn't learned how to untie those feisty knots, so I thought a sharp knife might help our cause, and since my brothers were younger, it was up to me to do the cutting.  The ideal choice was this black, bone handled carving knife that was quite accessible in the kitchen.  Before giving any further thought to this undertaking, I was swiftly cutting through the twine to unveil the contents of the package.  However, what I hadn't given much thought to was the proper technique needed to use such an instrument, and before I knew it, I had sliced through the twine and the momentum carried the blade right into my forehead, boink!  I had successfully opened both with one swift stroke.  At first I didn't think too much of it, but when the blood came dripping down my face, I knew I needed an adult's assistance.  I proceeded to interrupt my mother's phone call while still holding the knife in my hand.  What a sight that must have been, young boys crying, a sharp knife and blood spurting; this would have been a bit of an unsettling scene for my mom, and always, she handled it calmly.

In 1963, my parents were frantically preparing to take 8 kids on an extended vacation to visit family in Wyoming.  The washer was doing double time and my father was getting his patients settled in with covering MDs.  The older siblings were responsible for themselves, but the youngest of us well, we were simply not supposed to get into trouble.  However, trouble typically found us!

The preparations were progressing as planned considering the challenge, but that's when the wheels came off.  My younger brothers and I offered to carry the bags to the car for the ride into Boston's South station where we were scheduled to catch the train heading west, but we encountered a slight, unplanned detour.  While moving the bags into the car, the car's middle seat, which was folded up to allow access to the back, fell down onto my youngest brother's foot, perfectly between his big toe and second toe.  The fountain of blood followed quickly thereafter.  I reacted by frantically informing my mom that I thought the toe had been severed off; fortunately, a detail that was incorrect.  Once again, the team's physician was called in to assess the situation, and since my father's surgical skills were being tested regularly by this group, he was equal to the task.

Not surprisingly, these are just a few of the many stories from our active lives growing up.  I recall that my older brother suffered at least 3 lacerations, my next younger brother had sutures at least once, my youngest brother had them several times, including on successive days, while I counted having had them more than 20 times in those early years  There was a lot of mileage in suture material alone recounting these tales.  As for my sisters, they seemed to have been somewhat spared by comparison.  No doubt, if we all sat down today and recalled the number of times we needed the team physician and his appointed assistant, my mom, to help him, the stories would have us all in stitches!

This diet is no ‘Dud’ or is it?

There has been an ever evolving litany of diets published over the years which have touted successes from losing that stubborn midlife weight gain to curing cancer.  Mind you, some have achieved immediate traction while others quickly have failed simply because of their impractical precepts.  The human body is a remarkable, miraculously engineered marvel made up of intricately balanced parts performing regularly at a level of unparalleled perfection.  Even when disruptive forces arise, the body wants to correct the imbalances to preserve its functional capacity, a beautifully conceived creation indeed.  However, every so often we push ourselves to the limit of reasonableness, and that's where this story begins.

What would you say if I told you that you could eat all the protein that you wanted but must drastically restrict your carbohydrates?  There are diet experts who believe this is the desired method for weight loss. I suspect you've heard of the more recognizable Atkins or South Beach diets too; and for the all the non dieters out there, the "see food" diet seems to be quite popular.  Sadly, this is the one diet that seems to be a good "fit" for the largest number of individuals in our society. Even with all these options, other diets continue to surface and become popular.  The true test will come over time, but nothing will replace a good old fashioned, balanced diet, unless it's a "dud".

One of my friends has done multiple endurance athletic events, including an Ironman, several marathons and long distance trail runs to name just a few.  Her sheer willpower and determination is remarkable to say the least.  I marvel at her ability to commit to something and even in the face of setbacks, she perseveres and achieves her goals; noble qualities at any level.  However, what perhaps has me most puzzled is her ability to do much of this on a rather unconventional diet to say the least.  Most athletes today pay very strict attention to their diets and the intake of, shall we say junk food, is nearly forbidden.  Why even Tom Brady has explained his absolute adherence to such restrictions, especially during his playing days.  However, there are those who don't follow conventional wisdom.

If I told you that I was going to propose a diet strictly of peanut butter, corn chips with the occasional salsa, protein bars, and Milk Duds you probably would look me straight in the eye and say I was nuts.  I'd agree that it does appear to be rather restrictive to some, but if you follow it religiously, you will be able to compete in the Ironman and do a variety of other endurance events, if you wish to do so.  Sound suspect?  Well, what I would say is that it isn't for everyone.  In fact, it may only be for one unique individual, who would probably have most of us for lunch on race day.  Now that's a diet my friend would surely feast on!

It was just supposed to be coffee

Oftentimes, when people meet and begin developing a friendship, simple outings or gatherings serve as cornerstones from which the rest of that relationship seems to evolve.  In the movie, "You've Got Mail", Tom Hanks reveals to Meg Ryan that, if he had met her under different circumstances, he would have asked her for her phone number and from there he'd have asked her to go for coffee, for drinks, dinner or a movie.  These are nonthreatening, logical ways to spend time getting to know one another.  Nowadays, people rely on technology to meet, such as dating websites, yet these basic, historically safe encounters still remain a fundamental part of the process.  Regardless of the method used, it is all about how people meet and how they progress through those various and sometimes awkward stages of getting acquainted.  It is truly remarkable how such brief moments in time may influence the trajectory of one's life; very powerful indeed.

What follows is much like comparing it to the morning commute.  If the traffic is light, then it may not take as long to get to the next destination; however, if it is rush hour, then all bets are off and you find yourself maneuvering in and out of jams, just to move ahead.  Occasionally, you encounter major detours, but even those don't have to be monumental.  You simply have to find an alternate route.  There is roadside assistance, highway patrol, and rest areas along the way, all of which are circulating in the background to support the process.  Hopefully, we don't need to enlist their help, but it is reassuring to have those services available when we need them.  Of course, what we all want to avoid the dreaded accident.  That may present significant issues and the consequences could be emotionally devastating.

Hypothetically then, you exchange phone numbers; perhaps there are several phone conversations even before agreeing to coffee or something more.  Of course, you probably make your own arrangements for transportation for fear that, if things go dramatically off the rails, there is a means of "escaping".  This is all part of the process of this thing  I have called predating.

There is no set timeline for any of these events either; it just seems to take on a life of its own.  There are the usual planned activities and some are more spontaneous.  It's a refreshing mix and part of the intrigue.  Equally, I do believe that the personalities of the parties involved contributes greatly too.  There are any numbers of factors that garner influence, but in the end, it all takes time, continued interest, and a modicum of effort for the process to move forward.

So, where does this all lead?  The possibilities are just as varied as there are flavors of coffee today, and it all might begin with that simple cup of java.  Given the variety and absolute number of coffee shops today,  this whole experience may be "unavoidable".  Who would have thought that such a common everyday behavior could be something created by the coffee industry to propagate the masses?  Here I am thinking, it was just supposed be coffee.  C'est la vie!

Penny Candy

In an era not long ago, cities and towns across America and for that matter worldwide had neighborhood convenience stores.  The concept of the large superstore hadn't yet been brought to the masses and most of us relied on these oftentimes, family owned businesses to be there for the basic food emergencies.  My experience was just that with a little twist.  Allow me to explain.

The neighborhood store was there as a lifeline for my friends and me when it was too far to walk home to fetch a snack. The oasis in the "hood" provided the perfect blend of needs and wants for a child.   What young kid could make it through the day without a few treats to survive to dinner?  Well, all I can say is thanks to the many people who provided this critical service at a time when the neighborhood was an extension of the back yard play ground.

In my home town, I could name dozens of such establishments.  The businesses survived on the daily foot traffic from the locals and in those days, most of the patrons came on foot, as not all families even had a car or cars.  I remember such places as Ted's, MacNevin's, Cote's, Antelle's, Liberty Market, Belanger's, Rallis' , The Elm Street Cash Market, and even a place called Dowdy's.  They served as cornerstones of the local commerce.

Back in the day however, soda bottles had a 2 cent return and all of these places would gladly take in the bottles.  We'd line our pockets with the cold hard cash for only a moment ,however; this windfall afforded us purchasing power and we wasted little time spending it.  This behavior really served 2 purposes, the bottles got returned and we had "piggy banks" that looked more like trash barrels!  If you recall, there was an old Cracker Jacks commercial that demonstrated this vey point.  The young boy traded in in his jacks and a few pennies to pay for his box of CJ!  Those were the days.

On saturday afternoons in the fall, the high school would play their home football games just down the street in a WPA era built stadium.  I wasn't much for watching the games in those days but if it was a warm, sunny afternoon, my friends and I would wander down to the stadium to catch the second half of the game.  By that time, we were permitted to enter without paying.  Something we could "afford" on our budgets.  After the patrons departed, my friends and I cashed in by starting to collect the empty soda bottles, and the pennies were adding up.  The challenge was hauling our loot to the store, but we managed for the rewards were sweet!  Depending on how much we actually collected, we could get an ice cream, a bottle of tonic, and some penny candy.  We were living the dream; it was free money and we could do with it as we pleased.  After the owner of Belanger's filled our small brown bags full, we'd go out to sit on the stone wall and bask in the Sun with smiles of our faces.  Heaven on earth, or at least for awhile.

This scenario repeated itself as long as the warm weather was on our side.  We'd pick up bottles at the town park too and head to Ted's, different store, same outcome.  We were financial wizards of sorts.  I remember pointing to the candy through the glass case and muttering, "I'll have one of those and two of those, until we had spent our net worth.  As they say, another day another handful of pennies for us!

As I reflect on this little part of my youth, I now realize just how fortunate I was to have this whole experience.  Kids today likely don't get this kind of opportunity.  We were outside for hours roaming the streets, without a care in the world.  If hunger struck and we could find some returnables, the neighborhood stores were open for business.  More importantly, however, we were resourceful, had enough when we needed it, and the store owners welcomed their patrons, both young and old.  It was oh so sweet!

I Feel the Need for Speed...Golf

In the movie, Top Gun, there is a scene where Maverick and Goose were preparing for their training mission and high-fived each other while blurting out that they felt the need for speed!  The expression has become an iconic movie line. 

When I trained for the Ironman in Lake Placid, NY in 1999,  I had come across an article discussing speed golfing.  I had put my golfing interests aside to focus on the monumental task of training for an IM.  However, to keep things interesting during a family vacation, I picked up the sticks to do some of my run training while playing a few holes of golf.  There was a par 3 course at the resort, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to do some sprint training on a softer surface.

The par 3 course was quite typical,  a 1000 yards long and most of the holes were around a 100 yards.  So, I selected my 3 clubs accordingly, a putter, a 9 iron, and a wedge, plenty enough for this tract of real estate.  I simply carried my clubs in one hand, put a few balls in my pocket and off I went.  Although I had begun my IM training in earnest, I wasn't as well prepared for this iteration of run training, as I expected.  However, after successive rounds, it became easier, and the scoring improved too.  In an hours time, I managed to play 45 holes and was able to break 30 at least twice, no aces on the card, however.  All in all, a fun "day" on the links and an interesting twist to a game I had grown up playing.  

Earlier last year, I received a notification for SGUSA's US Open in friendly upstate NY.  Coincidentally, it was being held in the community where I did my residency training.  I have some dear friends still living in the area so the invitation to compete in this event provided the inertia to rekindle that enthusiasm for golf but without the lengthy commitment of time, a perfect combination.

I actually had been training for a short distance triathlon, so naturally, I thought I'd be in a good position to "just do it", not appreciating that the golfing element wasn't going to be quite so easy this time.  We played at 2 separate venues, each measuring out at over 6000 yards and the heat index approached 100 degrees.  I'll be the first to admit now that this was quite an undertaking, but one I haven't regretted at all.  In fact, the experience has generated a new found love of golf, coupled with a passion to be outdoors while "running",  a veritable trifecta of fun.

Although my first foray into this arena has been, shall we say, a long run spoiled, I have thoroughly enjoyed the adventure.  However, I can see the potential for this sport to take off, and I'm excited to be a part of the "club"!