I'm Number 225!

Next Monday I will be playing in my second ever Minnesota State Mid-Amateur golf tournament. Amateur means non-pro of course. "Mid" means "30 or older" somehow. Perhaps because it's for people nearing mid-life. Personally, I think it should be at least 35, probably 40, before you start giving age advantages in state tournaments. The Senior tournaments don't start until age 55. No, that's not a typo. The professionals get to play Senior events at age 50, thanks to Arnie, but not the Amateurs, unless they qualify to play in the Open tournaments.

There will be a full field at the Edina Country Club and Braemar (Public) Golf Course, 240 in all. I rank tied for 225th with two others, based on current handicap index. (Don't ask how long it took me to figure that out.) I'm a 5.3; you have to be 6.4 or better to play. My goals last year were to 1) Not embarrass myself, and 2) Not finish last. Sort of a Glen Mason style of play (playing not to lose).

Except for one memorably bad shot, I accomplished #1. I also accomplished goal #2, except that when the newspaper published the results, they cut it off at my score, making it appear that I finished last. That embarrassed me, so I guess in a way I didn't accomplish my goals.

I tee off Monday at noon on hole #10 at Edina CC. It's a long par 5 with out of bounds all along the left side (a street, even). I'm a right-hander who has been fighting a pull-hook all year. Good luck with that one. I'm tempted to use four-iron and play for a working man's par. I don't need to pull-hook three shots out of bounds and take a 12 on the first hole.

That would be embarrassing; and last place would be in reach.

This Time, I Mean It!

At the risk of sounding like a sore loser after the Vikings' underwhelming performance against Green Bay tonight, I must say that this season I may stick to my guns and find more important things to do than watch the Vikings (yardwork before the snow, sledding with the kids, grinding my knuckles on a cheese grater...stuff like that).

My reasoning used to be that the enjoyment of the wins were not worth the time wasted on the losses. Tonight, however, I realized it's a couple more things:

1) The game is just not entertaining enough. I don't know why, but I'm finding football more and more boring. Maybe at 42 I'm just growing out of it.

2) I get particularly upset at officiating in sports these days. There is no reason the officials shouldn't be doing a better job in all pro sports. To wit, on a third down play in the fourth quarter, an obvious defensive pass interference was missed. Instead of a first down and the Vikings continuing to drive to perhaps take the lead, they had to punt, and the Packers scored soon thereafter.

Hey, the better team won, and I recognize when my team is aided by questionable officiating, too. But my blood boils when I see poor officiating, especially when things happen right in fron of their eyes.

In my Sports Law course at William Mitchell College of Law, taught by none other than Clark Griffith (son of Calvin Griffith), much was talked about regarding the "value of the game," but unfortunately, most of it focussed aroung the players and league rules. Very little was discussed around officiating (although I would not be surprised to see the course syllabus revised recently thankd to Tim Donaghy). Again, the better team won tonight, but when one poor call or non-call (and there was a similar one earlier in the game) haa so much potential effect, to me, much of the value of the game is lost.

I used to try to treat bad calls like bad hops and bad bounces, which can also be frustrating, but are easier to cope with. But I couldn't get past the fact that a well-paid human being, who is supposed to be an expert, the best in the biz, can often be so inept as to affect the outcome of a game.

Wow, I'm really ramnling and running off course here. So I'll wrap it up. I once again hereby vow to watch far less pro football this season, and this time I mean it. The reason lies somewhere in the above.

Cheese Curds and Booger Jokes

My wife and I took our boys to the Great Minnesota Get Together today. It's expensive as usual, parking is terrible, the crowds are annoying, making it very slow to get through pushing two toddlers in a double stroller, Williams and Ree were doing the same shtick I first saw them do 25 years ago, my belly is about to explode and my wallet is empty.

And I'm sure I'll happily be back next year.

I have no idea what it is about the Minnesota State Fair, but I love it...always have, always will. I even miss the days my dad would look at all of the newest combines on machinery hill, as boring as that could be.

I didn't get to see everything I wanted to, as usual. Some year I am going to spend the whole day there alone to just take in what I want to take in. But sharing time with the family was still worth the trip and then some.

When I do go alone, I hope Williams and Ree will be there again so I can take in their whole program. I still enjoy their booger humor, sung to John Anderson's "Swingin'." (How do I punctuate the end of that sentence correctly?) I even enjoy their serious music, even though the three songs they sang tonight was about as much country music as I voluntarily listened to all year. It's kind of cool to think of the nice living these guys have made for themselves doing something they love for some three decades (or more?).

For the record here's what I ate at the Fair, between 6:00pm and 10:00 pm:

Cheese Curds
Pineapple milk shake
Sweet Martha's cookies
Strawberry malt (yeah, I like malts and shakes...what of it?)
Onion Rings
Bull Bites
Taffy
Pepsi

I still feel stuffed (it's 11:15 pm), I'm sure I'll get heartburn tonight, but I have no regrets. And come tomorrow, I'll do my best to finish off the Sweet Martha's and the Salt Water Taffy we brought home.

I Had Blogfoot's Baby

I really enjoy reading blogs. From the hacks like me who use them merely as a journal with the knowledge that perhaps nobody other than himself is ever going to read it, to those who so desparately want to get the next scoop and make a name for themselves. Like Matt Drudge, one could then make a nice living being wrong most of the time (insert gratuitous weather forecaster joke here).

I recently read one blog that was slamming people I know based on one piecee of information, and all sorts of similar folks crawled out of the woodwork to join in to form a virtual circle-jerk.

As tempted as I am to use my personal knowledge of the subject matter and expose these self-congratulatory folk for the cretins they don't realize they are, it's in my best interest not to.

They say the blogosphere is the National Enquirer of the Internet. From what I've seen, the defunct Weekly World News is perhaps a more appropriate comparison, at least in some cases.

Time to Trump Waste Management

Yeah, it's entirely my fault that the garbage wasn't picked up by Waste Management this morning at our house. I hadn't pay the bill, and they had left me automated messages on the phone. I'd been meaning to call them back to pay. I had lost the previous bill, and just received the new one this week, but instead of mailing in a check, I wanted to take care of the payment and firing them in the same call.

It turns out that would take two separate calls, so I paid by phone, and will call them later to do my best Donald Trump. What happened was that back in early June, my father went to the Maple Grove Waste Management facilities to dump some old concrete blocks. He walked around the building to get some service, but no one responded to his door knocks (or however you're supposed to get them...I don't know if it's a drive-up window or what) and the place appeared vacant. So he started dumping the blocks, when of course, out pops a woman who rudely tells him he can't do that without paying.

He explained that he tried to get some help but no one answered. Then, upon learning from the woman how much it would cost, he decided he would just take the blocks back out of the dumpster and dispose of them elsewhere. So he took the blocks out and drove away, end of story.

Or not. The City of Maple Grove Police Department sent me a letter stating someone driving my vehicle (I traded the car with my dad some time ago) was reported "dumping block material without paying to do so." By the description of the guy, they knew it was not me, but that unless I could identify him, I'm on the hook for the $33.83 in fees. I don't know whether the woman called the police before talking with my dad, but even if she had, she should have cleared it up with them once he explained himself and left.

I gave the letter to my dad and he apparently took care of it, and fired Waste Management as his trash collection service of choice, as I vowed to do. I figure today is as good a day as any, since they finally decided to not take my trash after me not paying for a while.

I am not a rude caller in such conflicts. In fact, I rather enjoy "killing them with kindness," so I look forward to telling them why I will be taking my business elsewhere. I have many choices...too many choices, in fact, for even this capitalist. Our neighborhood roads get beaten down with the several trucks that wake me up every Friday morning. I wouldn't mind a little socialism in the waste collection business - or a private monopoly - just to free our streets a little.

One choice I will not be going with is BP. They laid off my father-in-law a few years back, with a crappy pension and severance. Right now I'm leaning towards LSI, a local company (Lakeville).

Whomever I hire, I promise to pay them on time, unless they call the cops on my dad.

Excitement You Can't Beat

I made fun of Olympic swimming in an earlier post. Well, even though I still wouldn't mind a 400 dog paddle relay, to be serious for a moment, that 400 men's freestyle relay was about as exciting a race as I have ever seen in my life. Nearly as exciting was Katie Hoff's loss just earlier, in similar fashion in the 400 individual freestyle (leading much of the way, then losing by just :07).

I also feel blessed that I am married to a former D-I college swimmer. When your wife is as excited as you are (even more?) while watching a sporting event, that's pretty cool!

Election 2008

I'm doing this kind of backwards, but I am going to put up a couple of icons (or attempt to) on this blog for folks to follow the 2008 presidential election. The backwards part is saying I'm going to do it before actually doing it, which sets me up for certain failure.

I am putting two up because they are both very good, and one is maintained by a conservative-leaning type, and the other a liberal-leaning type. I know which is which; I'm sure you'll be able to figure them out if you check out their sites.

Here goes nothing...