My brother had his 50th birthday celebration in Palm Springs as he is a big time golfer. The women enjoyed Springtime weather in the desert by the AirBnB pool while us boys did two days of eighteen hole golf at some sweet courses.

I’m the worst golfer, mainly because I don’t take the game seriously. We played best ball in small groups, and no one really wanted me on their team….too competitive to have the likes of me.

I was on fire though (for the most part) keeping up with the long drives others were putting up, keeping it in the fairway for the most part, and sinking my putts on the green. It helped that we kept our day drinking to a minimum.

The party was definitely in the evenings after golf was done. Utter craziness. You would think we’d be a tad more responsible as we age, but oh contrare.

I was mostly an observer though, not a party participant. I sat in a corner, sipping whiskey as the night rolled in, watching the antics of others quietly. Sunday morning comes too fast, and I find myself saying goodbye to family and friends as they leave to airport in California while I jump onto the interstate and make the drive back to Arizona.

Short but sweet, I’ll take whatever family time I can get these days.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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