I’ve never attended a golf tournament. It’s not something I want to dedicate a day or so of my life to, but turn on any televised event and you can see the proof that tens of thousands of folks are willing to travel thousands of miles, spend thousands of dollars and days upon days of their lives watching golf. That’s great: it takes all kinds to makes a world like ours.
I love the fact that there are so many people who can and do love golf enough to make it an enormous capital enterprise. I’m in favor of such things because capitalism, in all it’s strange and delightful incarnations is what has produced a world in which people can actually travel across oceans to watch a golf tournament.
The Ryder Cup is unlike any other golf tournament in that one cheers not so much for the individual players as for the teams they represent. Golf may be a team sport in school but its not, out in the world where the pros play.
Most likely because of the team (us vs them) aspect, the Ryder Cup attracts a different sort of fan. No one shows up at Augusta National for the Master’s in costume if they want to be allowed in. Overindulging is not encouraged at most tournaments and golf is a game in which even the fans are held to a strict standard of behavior.
Not so much at the Ryder Cup.
I have first hand accounts now that this particular biannual event is more like a huge party, inside which some golf is played than a golf tournaments with fans watching on the edges of the fairways.
P&G went to two days of this golf bacchanalia. They said it was fun but totally insane. Like attending a frat party many years after graduation.
Sunday, G caught up with Jay and they went over to UST to watch our National runners up cream their opponent.
It was a perfect day for college football: sunny but not too warm.
While the guys were doing that, I took P over to my sister’s house and we walked halfway around Lake Harriet. Instead of doing the whole lake, we went as far as the bandstand, then looped up into the neighborhood. We hit Wild Rumpus, a children’s book store that has to be experienced to be believed and then up the hill to Sebastian Joe’s for ice cream. Then down the back side of the hill to return to the lake.
After wondering the neighborhood for an hour or so, I took P over to the gallery exhibit at Flander’s and Associate’s.
P has done a little bit of painting so she has an idea of what she likes and how hard all of it is to do. She was blown away by the exhibit, just as I was. We grabbed a coffee next door and talked about painting.
I went home and emailed my old teacher, asking if he still had room in his morning oils class for me.
Saturday evening, we all went out to my Mom and Dad’s for dinner. Mom had invited just her kids (no grandkids) because she hadn’t seen us all in a few weeks and she thought it would be nice to have a smaller gathering so we could actually touch base with each other. She was right, it was very nice. It’s amazing how much smaller a group of 15 is than a crowd of 40. Especially when none of the members of the group are under 12.
MJ did bring Tot but I didn’t count him in the 15.
My Mom made five racks of ribs and they were outstanding.
Sunday, the guys played golf while P and I went over to the Minehaha Falls. We had lunch at Sea Salt, then went down the stone steps to see the falls from below. It was another warm, sparkling sunny day. It always amazes me how crisp and clean the air is in autumn. If you’d been asleep since last winter, you’d know you missed summer even if the trees hadn’t started turning yet, simply for the air’s scrubbed fresh quality.
We got home from the falls in time to cheer as the American team won the Ryder Cup. Then, P,G and I got dressed up and headed off for dinner and the theater. Katie P. met us at the restaurant, which was right across the street from the theater in Northeast Minneapolis.
When I looked up the directions to the theater, I accidently put in the address with just N instead of NE so for a few minutes we were in a very wrong part of town but with the help of a smart phone, we were on the correct side of town in no time.
Erte is a nifty restaurant with an art deco feel to it. Fifteen foot high ceilings with a pressed tin finish over the ornate, mirrored bar gives the place the sort of atmosphere you think Bonnie and Clyde would have appreciated. Isn’t it funny that when you think 20s and 30s you think criminals? Maybe that’s just me.
The food was delicious, too. Katie met us for dinner. She was the only one of the group who had been to this theater before; she saw a production of Sweeny Todd last winter. P had a friend in the production we were about to see. The show was Ragtime and P’s friend plays a Russian anarchist.
The Ritz theater is really cool. The production was top notch. I wasn’t at all surprised by the caliber of talent in the cast: I’ve seen too many shows here to be surprised by that. What blew me away was the use of lighting to change the feel of the stage and create the different settings of each scene in a production with minimal sets.
I’d never seen Ragtime before. It’s a tragic tale, set at the turn of the last century, dealing with race relations, illegitimacy, sexual politics and most jarring of all; the way the government deals with minorities. The costumes and music set the show firmly a hundred years ago but you could stage it in the present and not a word of the script would have to be adjusted to fit today’s turmoil.
Made me think modern society hasn’t evolved as much as we’d like to think we have.
I got to meet P’s friend afterwards and tell her what a great job they’d all done so that was fun, too.
Back at home, Jay had already gone to bed, so P, G and I opened a bottle of wine and sat on the porch, reviewing the show, talking and laughing.
Everyone slept in on Monday. Jay has class in the morning so we all met for lunch at one of our favorite places, the Longfellow grill. We chose that place because it was another gorgeous fall day and we wanted to eat outside.
Construction adjacent to the café made sitting outside very loud and unpleasant so we ate inside but we love that place inside, too.
After lunch, the guys took off and did who knows what so P and I did a little power shopping at one of my favorite Goodwill stores. I didn’t buy anything but P found several things that enriched her life. We have the exact same philosophy when it comes to shopping which is basically a version of one of Coco Chanel’s maxims: have nothing in your home that you don’t know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.
Man, I love Coco Chanel.
When it comes to clothes; if it doesn’t make you feel fabulous while you’re wearing it, get rid of it.
I think it’s time to cull my own drawers and cupboards. I have plenty of things that no longer make me feel fabulous. Time to go!
Monday night, P, G, Zack and Tyler went down to the Viking’s new stadium, US Bank Stadium for the football game. The Vike’s won. I didn’t watch. I don’t care.
I don’t. I don’tIdon’tIdon’t and no fancy pants new stadium is gonna make me.
P and G had a great time and Tuesday morning, hit the western road home. It was great fun to see them and we all had a fabulous time. Minneapolis is a fun town to show off and it never shows to better advantage than in the autumn, when the weather cooperates. It couldn’t have been more beautiful while our guests were in town.
Tuesday, after I came home from running all my errands, I had an email from my old art teacher saying that yes, there is room in his class for me. So I printed off the material’s list he sent, headed off the art supply store and spent $250.00 on paints, brushes and all kinds of my favorite things.
It was raining when I left the house this morning but it’s gorgeous out right now so I think I’ll walk around the lake and work later.
Life is good.