jack and crown

The Golf School which is made up of about thirty or so very driven, serious athletes who go to bed by their midnight curfew (many have already been asleep by the time we make our final rounds to check) and are swinging away by 7:45 a.m. at the latest the next day (again, many have already been at it for a while) is housed at the the new campus of an undisclosed state school which, since it’s opening three years ago, has wasted no time in becoming a major party destination for local underage youth, in and out of college. I find it amusing that when I’ve completed curfew check is when the rest of the campus comes alive. On weekends their curfew extends to 1:00 a.m. so it allows for their paths to cross a little more and we get to witness culture clashes like the one I just experienced. I was outside talking to some of the guys about a half hour before curfew. A young girl, Jamie, stumbles towards us and exclaims, “Hi! I like to meet new people”. Clearly inebriated, she continued, “we’ve been wanting to meet you all but you’re never here… You’re never outside”. “No, they’re always outside” I think… “Just not outside where you’d meet them!”. Jamie continues, “So you guys are like, really strict right. I heard you have breathalyzers”. She’s mostly talking to me and all the guys are clearly unsure of what they’re supposed to say so I decide to have fun. “sure do” I reply. Jamie contines, “I heard you gotta get tested every night!” “Sure do.” I reply. “Every night. I’m honestly afraid to use mouthwash…” “Well,” Jamie continues, wrapping her arm around my waist, “You need to f--- your curfew tonight and come on over to my dorm. Third floor. We got jack and crown”. “Really?” I asked. “Jack and Crown? Wow…” (Expensive tastes… I think. Who can afford that in college? Must be the beginning of the semester or something.) “SHH!” She exclaims. “You don’t want no one to hear, we’ll get in trouble”. “Ooh.” I reply, knowingly. “We don’t want that”. At this point my golfers are all laughing into their visors. (yeah, they wear visors at midnight…) She says, “c’mon, let’s go!” and tries to drag me upstairs. I assure her I’ll be there soon. Poor thing, she was shmiested. She stumbled away to continue her weekend revelry and I turn to the teen golf squad and say, “So, yeah, I’m checking the party after your curfew tonight…. Don’t even”. Did really? No. Although isn’t it great to be mistaken for a college student almost four years after you graduate? Even if it is in the dark… through jack and crown-blurred vision…

Irons and Quesadillas

I remember learning about “paradigms” from Joe Schmiesing at FUS… That a paradigm is how we view the world, and everyone has a different paradigm based on their background and experiences. I had my first glimpse into a “golf paradigm” when I had Scott, Natalie, C.J. and Ari in the apartment . I had made some refried beans and quesadillas and had offered some to Ari. The boys loitering in the hallway smelled the food so I invited them in to join us. This being their first week, the boys have definitely not mastered cooking and Scott commented that the quesadillas were really good (and judging from the fact that the boy’s fridge contained nothing but about twenty different ways to freeze a pizza: from pizza wrappers to hot pockets, I don’t think he had much to compare it to). I told the group that quesadillas were easy, and if they ended up in a dorm room without a stove, they could always make them with an iron (you just put it between wax paper so the cheese doesn’t get on your shirt). Scott looked really confused and finally said, “how do you make these with a golf club?” I didn’t even realize what he was talking about and his friends were like, “no man, the iron you use on your clothes”. I suddenly realized why he was confused so I tried to explain, “yeah, you know… the thing you use to get those creases in your popped collars”. Scott still looked confused. This does not bode well for our future communication. We’re speaking English, but somehow not the same language!