If you’ve spent a little time around me, you probably know that I love golf just a little bit. I played in high school, continue to play today, and am currently the coach at Eastern Greene HS. So when my roommate Michael Santa got an internship at the PGA Championship at Whistling Straits in Kohler, Wisconsin, I was a little jealous. Then Michael called me and said that he had two free tickets for every day of the tournament. I jumped at this opportunity and last weekend, my roommate Ethan and I took a road trip up to Wisconsin to watch the best golfers in the world go for “Glory’s Last Shot.[1]
An important and semi-embarrassing story must precede any talk of golf, however. Friday morning before leaving I had a hefty to-do list of returning CDs, returning Comcast’s equipment, and finally filling up my car with 12 gallons of Louisiana-Bayou-destroying BP gasoline.[2] In the process of filling up and leaving, I must have left my wallet on my car and sped off to pick up Ethan from his final. Not surprisingly, my wallet fell off my car and into the road somewhere unbeknownst[3] to me.
We began our trip some five hours later, and in a touch of good fate, I realized the lost wallet only miles after getting on Indiana State Highway 37.[4] A frantic search ensued at both The Village and the BP on south Walnut. No wallet could be found though. Fortunately for myself, I had pulled quite a bit of cash out from an ATM in Jasper the week before which did not go in my wallet so I had enough spending cash for the trip. Frustrated and a little disheartened, we continued our trek north. Somewhere around Lafayette I get a call from my mom. The conversation went a little like this:
Mom: “Hi Jonathan. Did you happen to lose something today?”
Me: “Yes.”(Relief in my voice)
Mom: “A guy found your wallet. He didn’t really say where except that it was in the middle of the road.”
Me: “Wow, that’s lucky.” (Mentally kicking myself)
Mom: “Your brother is going to meet him and pick it up. You should consider yourself lucky.”
Me: “Believe me I do. Thanks!” (Upset at my stupidity but relieved nonetheless)
This fortunate turn of events[5] made the rest of the trip to Wisconsin[6] a little bit happier and less tense for me. We arrived to Wisconsin around 10:30 PM and were greeted by our roommate Mike and 70 degree weather. I could feel a good weekend ahead.
In a few days, I will post my thoughts and observations from the 92nd PGA Championship.[7]
[1] Due to its distinction as the season's final major, the PGA Championship is nicknamed "Glory's last shot" (Courtesy of Wikipedia)
[2] I’m not sure why but I continue to purchase fuel from BP.
[3] I’ve always wanted to use this word
[4] You may ask, “How did this take you five hours?” Good question. I usually keep my wallet in my car so really nothing seemed out of the normal
[5] I made sure to thank God for all of the fortunate events
[6] Which included a stop to Portilo’s and Coldstone on the southside of Chicago
[7] Just for you, Dan Palmer
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