No Time

 

Hollow Brook Golf Club -- Cortlandt Manor, NY

I have to be up at 4 a.m.

The Hunt Scanlon conference is tomorrow and I'm just home from "The Clubhouse" on location.

I was busy from the moment I woke up this morning so finding time to write wasn't a priority.

I don't know that I'll ever be sorry to head back to the Hudson Valley, although I know there are some reasons better than others.

But tonight I got to go host the show from Hollow Brook Golf Club in Cortlandt Manor.

So what, you say.

I say it's like going home. 

Going to Cortlandt Manor, which isn't Peekskill but might as well be, puts me right back in the area where I grew up. 

And, if I may, it puts me right across the street from where my parents and three of my grandparents are buried.

So that was my first stop and, admittedly, I was all "up in my feelings" today.

I don't know why but that was indeed the case.

There are others buried in Hillside Cemetery that mean a lot to me, including a cousin, and two sets of aunts and uncles, as well as a close friend of my father's.

I've probably mentioned him before. I went with my dad to this man's grave sometime -- probably back in the early 80s -- and he commented how no one ever manicures the space around his headstone. I promised to always take care of it and I continue to do so.

Including today.

Heavy stuff aside, we gathered* at Hollow Brook and eventually got around to hitting golf balls on the driving range.

That means I was swinging a golf club for probably the first time in two years.

* We were told to be there at 4:30. Dave Torromeo and I were there well before then. Mark Jeffers and his angelic wife showed up just after 4:30. Bob Small might still be driving around the back roads of Westchester County.

Eventually, Bob got there and we did what we could to set golf back beyond the days of Old Tom Morris.

But we had a wonderful show, plenty of laughs, some food, and a pleasant ride back home.

The alarm now awaits.

I hope Bob made it home.