Every once in a while a suburban parent needs to find themselves somewhere without children. This past weekend, I went to my place. Annually, I meet up with a number of friends for a golf weekend. I say a "number" because it used to be a group of 8. Ironically, a few years ago we had an email argument about whether or not we should expand the number to include more than 8. Since that argument, the number of people has declined. This past weekend we had 5. I am sure we could find more people who want to participate in a golf weekend, but this is a special group of people. I'm not even sure how I fit in but we have discussed how none of us can think of anyone else who would fit just right. So, as people have bailed for various reasons, our numbers have dwindled.
I know a golf weekend for "the boys" is not unusual and is perhaps a bit cliche'. I know thousands of suburban dads leave the children and wives for a golf weekend and act in ways they probably do not when at home. I know we are not unique. But, as I drove home Sunday, exhausted and sore, I was wondering why I put myself through this.
I am a fairly boring person. Generally speaking, I don't enjoy the things that middle class Americans, even those in my age group and familial status, enjoy. I don't enjoy going out. I rarely drink. I don't like loud music, except under the right circumstances in my car. I don't like bars or restaurant-like places that act as bars. I rarely stay up late, and if I do, it usually involves reruns of some TV show, a Dallas Cowboys football game or a U.S. World Cup qualifier. I don't even watch as much sports as I did 5-10 years ago, much less the absurd amount I watched 15-20 years ago. Yet, here I was (or there I was, I guess), staying up late, in a restaurant-like place acting like a bar, with loud music and people drinking a lot. For three nights.
I am also getting old. I'm not like old-old, but the body can't handle what the body once could. I am sure that 15 years ago 36 holes of golf, in 20-25 mile per hour winds on a 40 degree day would have been bearable and survivable. Now, it makes the body hurt. A lot. Two day of this really puts a crimp in my style, and numerous cramps in my body. Perhaps if I played golf more than 6-8 times per year (4 of which are during this particular weekend) my body could take more. Despite my recognition of this, just like the nighttime thing, I found myself engaging in 2 rounds per day, 40 degree temperatures, 20-25 mph winds.
This explains why I was exhausted and stiff and in pain on Sunday driving home. This explains why I accomplished very little after getting home on Sunday. This explains why after 3 days away from my family, it may as well have been 4, because I was present, but not really there on Sunday. That made me feel guilty, so we can add guilt to exhaustion and pain.
I knew all of this going in, of course. Well, the pain is a little more than I remember. I'll be honest, I like golf. I don't, however, think my enjoyment of golf justifies the lack of sleep, exhaustion, stiffness and pain. Its the people. The fact is, the 4 people I shared this weekend with have become some of my closest friends. The irony is, the link that connects me to them never joins us.
When we were in one of the 2 restaurant-like establishments acting like a bar, we met a couple celebrating their anniversary. At one point, we were asked if we were high school friends or college friends or what? Except for me, the answer is high school friends. I am a friend of a friend. Literally. One of my best friends from college went to high school with the others I share my golf weekend with. Through various activities over the past 20 years (really? 20?), I have become friends with a number of his high school friends. I am now better friends with his high school friends than with my own. And I see them more than I see him.
If you asked me to name my best friend, I'm not sure what I would say. It depends on the period of my life. Not to sound corny, but my best friend right now is probably my wife. Although I don't think of her like that. If you asked me to name my 4 best friends, I could do it, and each of my "at some point in my life you were my best friend" friends would still be in the top 4. This is true even though I haven't seen one of them in about 5 years and I have no idea when I will see any of them.
The group I play golf with doesn't make the top 4 (sorry.) The difference is, I know when I will see them again. At a minimum, I will see them in about 12 months. And about 12 months after that. And about 12 months after that. I look forward to seeing them every year, and I enjoy knowing that I will see them. Of the 5 people who attended this year, 3 have never missed in over 10 years. The 2 who have missed one year (including me), missed for the birth of their first son. The male heir. You have to be around for the birth of the heir to throne. So that one miss is justified. It would literally take a birth or a death or perhaps a plague to keep us away. This is an unbreakable tradition.
As I have become a little older, and a little more tied down by family commitments, the only thing that keeps me doing anything is the unbreakable tradition. If the golf weekend wasn't an unbreakable tradition I probably would have stopped several years ago. We have a few people who have. I am not complaining or judging, because I understand the reasons that make something stop. As I have learned from my various attempts to exercise regularly, if I never give myself an excuse to miss something, I never have an excuse to miss. Don't get me wrong, I love this weekend and I do not want to miss. But the occassional first baseball game, or rainy weekend, or tough week at work is always enough of an excuse to avoid a weekend that will result in exhaustion and pain. There is always an excuse, but I never let myself have it. One excuse turns into five and eventually you just never go again, unless there truly is no excuse.
I have seen a regular poker game and various exercise programs live by the "no excuse" rule and die when it was broken. I have seen a New Years Day brunch go by the wayside. I have seen Eldest's best friend once in the past 12 months, because her family and our family let everyday life stop the traditional times we saw each other. I will not watch that happen to my golf weekend and to the 5 people I expect to see at least every 12 months.
Traditions are important. They are important to culture, to custom and to families. They are important to friends and to rituals. They are important to life. Without traditions, we wouldn't always open presents at our house on Christmas morning or eat dinner at Red Robin on New Years Eve or go sightseeing on Presidents Day. But more importantly for me, traditions keep me from letting laziness, tiredness and basic inertia from getting in the way of doing things that I want to do, but can find a reason not to. I need to find more traditions so I can see those 4 people mentioned above a little more often. I need to build and keep traditions to make sure my family keeps doing little fun things together, especially as they get older and stop wanting to do little fun things with Mom and Dad. I need to keep subjecting myself to three things I don't like (late night, bar and pain) to keep doing one thing, and seeing 4 people, I love, late March every year.
Traditions are important. I'm not sure I knew how important until I was driving home, exhausted, stiff and sore this past Sunday, looking forward to next year.
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