A Day of Firsts

There is something about doing something for the first time. I'm not talking about the first time that you get busted by the cops, or the first time that you got sick from a half-liter of vodka; or the first time that you, well, you get where I'm coming from. Saturday was a day of firsts. The first, and certainly the lessor, was when I finally nailed a lob wedge. I was the 18th hole at Les Bolstad (the University of Minnesota's course) and I sat about 75 yards away from the pin but directly in front of a large (say 45 feet) pine. I've questioned before why I even have this club in my bag. After a couple rounds you can tell which clubs get the most use from the mud and scuff on the iron. The pitching wedge and the 9-iron, unfortunately, get over-extensive use by me over the course of 18 holes. So, to be able to nail that sombitch and finish it out with a one-putt made a truly marginal round rather memorable.

A couple hours later I had a more momentous occasion to witness. My 6-y-o Ella has been working on riding her bike without training wheels. Yesterday she nailed it. I had been running behind her and holding the seat since last year and except for a couple moments, she hadn't been able to commandeer the vehicle on her own. After two or three running "practices" I let go of her bike. She didn't know that she was unaided until she saw me running beside her. That sight froze her momentarily, but she gained her balance and went flying along.

As a side note, for those of us who were born in the sixties or the early seventies, protective gear for activities was quite different than it is today. There were no helmets, knee or elbow pads. If you were smart you wore long pants and maybe a baseball cap to keep the gravel out of your bleeding skull. My parents had a rock the size of Gibralter next to their front yard and when I started learning to ride my first bike, that rock seemed like a magnet to my bike. There's nothing like a good shot to the groin that will give a young boy the encouragement to learn the art of balance and steering on a bike. I thought of that as I strapped on my daughter's elbow and knee pads and her titanium helmet. I didn't put the mouth guard on her as my wife was gone for the day and couldn't monitor.

I hope your own day of firsts don't include blood or compound fractures and Happy Father's Day to everyone who qualifies.

Another Local Celebrity-Criminal

Here in Minnesota, we don't get as many celebrity sightings as our friends in Los Angeles. That said, the few that we have are usually related to some indecent crime -- read Larry Craig. Well, it appears that we had another one this week. In our fine little hamlet of Mankato, home of the University of Minnesota-Mankato, a man approached a couple of young co-eds with an interesting proposition. Apparently posing as a professional CMT, he offered his services to the young women, both of whom were sunbathing near their off-campus housing. While neither took the man up on his offer, he was able to unknowingly follow one of the girls back into her apartment (where she was retrieving a drink for him). Once inside he was able to cop a feel on the girl before her yelling and protests drove him off. Normally a creepy story story like this would elicit a mere -- hmmph -- from me. It was the culprit's physical description that struck me:

“Police say they are looking for a white man, 30 to 35 years old, 5 feet 10 to 6 feet 2 inches tall, weighing 250 to 300 pounds. He has short sandy-brown brown hair.

The suspect also has several distinguishing characteristics: a large stomach, hairy upper body, a large head, a larger than normal nose and a high forehead. His voice was described as high-pitched. He also had a pimple or sore that was red and possibly irritated above the right side of his mouth. During one incident, he had no shirt on, was wearing shorts and was barefooted.” (Star-Tribune, A-1, June 7, 2008)

"Yes," you're saying to yourself. "He's handsome alright, but he's no celebrity Tom, is he?"

Well, I can't confirm this, but at the same time that this was taking place, suspected 911 terrorist Khalid Sheikh Mohammed was being taken out of his military prison cell (and a break from incessant water-boarding) for a trial. You may have heard of the case. He, perhaps inaccurately, assumed that by becoming a martyr in your cause -- in this case, killing as many Americans as possible -- that you'd get 70 virgins when you reached heaven.

My theory is that Mohammed took a break from his "destroy the infidels" efforts to visit Minnesota during our two-week summer and made his way to Mankato in an effort to score with some local beauties. But in his effort to fool the Mankato gals into thinking he was legitimately a masseuse and end up scoring with a virgin, he was sadly mistaken. As anyone whose been to the University of Minnesota-Mankato knows: There hasn't been one of those on campus in several decades.

In case you've forgotten what Khalid looks like, I've posted a picture at the top. Good luck with your own professional endeavors.