Sunday Night Musings: Family, Golf, and …..The Classiest Unclassic

I’ve been thinking about family tonight.  This weekend, like every other Civic Holiday weekend, hosts our golf tournament.  Now it wasn’t ‘ours’ until three years ago, but I will explain more about that later.

Thirty-six years ago at the tender age of twenty-eight my brother and his good friend George started a golfing tradition.  They called it The (both their last names) Unclassic.  The first trophy – yes there was a trophy engraved and everything – is still talked about to this day.  It seems one day the two men were talking and golfing and when George hit the ball with his driver and the ‘head of the driver went further than his ball.’  That head became the focal point for the first trophy which my sister-in-law designed and made.  Each year the men duked it out for seventy-two holes to declare a winner whose name and year was added to the trophy.

Unfortunately that trophy was lost but another took its place.  And the tournament of the Unclassic has occurred every year.  Now the winner is decided after an eighteen-hole play off.  Some of the participants have changed over the years but the core group remains the same and now today the next generation or two now take part and as we sat around post game and stories of the beginning years were told and laughed about hysterically by the new generation the continuation of a tradition was assured.

Three years ago the men decided that we women could finally play with them.  Well not really with but in the same tourney.  We even have our own trophy which goes (so far) to one who excels in the game.  She is a sweetheart and I am happy for her but I did tell her that next year I will get my name engraved. Ha Ha.  Well perhaps if I keep score we will see.

Now you may wonder what all this has to do with ‘family’.

First, George who remains without link of blood ties is now and always will be family.  Secondly Sheila the annual winner for women has been, without link of blood ties, now and always will be family.

We are very lucky my sibs and cousins that we are best friends.  Genuinely fun-loving laughing uproarisly best friends.  Lots of folks have a hard time believing it but it is true.

Third we, as a family are blessed by the non-marital, non-blood ties but forever part of our family (as dubious as that honor may seem) by this wonderful woman Sheila and of course by George.

I once knew a woman, actually my first mother-in-law who used to say, ‘God gave us our family but thank God we can choose our friends.’

Somehow we hit solid gold with both and I figure we are about the luckiest laughing fools on the planet.

Skating on the Thin Ice of Life

Skating on the Thin Ice of Life
 
“You’re skating on thin ice girl!”
 
Life is full of warnings, some overt and some less so. This one is pretty clear and was more serious than, “Stop, or you’re going to your room.” or even, “You’re cruisin for a bruisin.”
 
Skating implies movement, action, direction and a path or destination. Thin ice implies danger, warning, risk …high risk and a calamitous outcome if direction is not changed. Skating is smooth, continuous whether it is a forward, backward, figure eights, it is a confident motion that would seem not easily stopped or altered which increases the danger of being on thin ice. Once your motion carries you far enough there is no turning back and the only choice is to deal with the consequences of your action. This is a pretty good argument for thinking out plans beforehand.
 
But it strikes me that as we age skating on thin ice takes on a new meaning. Our footing may be ( literally ) less sure due to any number of circumstances including weak fragile bones or eye sight problems with depth perception, muscle weakness, blah, blah, blah. The older we get, the thinner the ice and our big rink just plain putters out.
 
 
Sometimes I think a zamboni is the only answer.
 
FYI….Wiki says…Zambonis do not really “melt the broken ice” in hockey arenas. The process of resurfacing the ice is the Job of the Zamboni at an ice rink between groups on the ice or periods of a hockey team. A Zamboni actually has a blade on it that cuts or shaves the surface of the ice (not much because the ice is only 1.5 to 3.5 inches thick!) This way the grooves and uneven surface from skaters is brought back to a more even surface. Then the Zam floods behind the cut with hot water (approx. 140 degrees) which fills in any leftover grooves or odd spots in the ice, freezes up and makes a fresh surface for the next group of skaters.

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