Fortunately enough, Quite Cool and I are privileged to get paid vacation time, which given the time of year, is a much anticipated break from school and jail. The questions is always “where to go and what to do?”
If I had it my way, we’d embark on a weeklong extravaganza of whitewater rafting, obscure historic cites, a little poker, and some motorcycling – capped off with a weekend of intensive firearms training, room clearing drills, and active shooter engagements at Valhalla, Thunder Ranch, H&K, or Triple Canopy.
If she had it her way, we’d hole up at the Four Seasons in a warm and dry climate to be plied with room service, spa treatments, and lounging in a fluffy bathrobe on 700 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets in the comfort of frigid A/C while watching cable TV– with side trips for a smorgasbord of books, obscure historic sights, and knitting boutiques searching for the elusive Tanzanian Virgin Alpaca Yarn, transplanted intergalactically to be harvested, spun, and died by hand on the forest moon of Endor by Ewoks – which gives it its supple texture and mythological warmth in knitted scarves, gloves, and headbands.
(I know, I know – you say there is no such thing – I say you just have to know where to look, and it’s better and cheaper than Ton Ton yarn imported from Hoth – I should know, see picture above/right.) In the past we have recreated our Honeymoon in Steamboat Springs to great enjoyment, and even made it across “the pond” to enjoy 8 fantastic days in London town (hizzah student loans!). However, those aren’t viable options this year. So, as all married couples do: we compromise. Spring break this year will be Scottsdale, AZ – but no Four Seasons, just a Snow Bird’s Paradise Condo in 1972 décor. It has the benefits of a warm climate, A/C, a pool and hot tub, the octogenarians on either side of us won’t be drinking and partying past 7pm, and has the added element of little to no-cost housing.
Gas, food, and other expenditures such as a Cactus League MLB game, maybe some golfing, a tour of Frank Lloyd Wright’s “Taliesin West”, and a budget busting foray to the ever kitsch and efficient Scandinavian furniture that is IKEA for baby stuff– will all be charged to Master Cool’s college fund
(I’m sure he’ll want to attend a second-tier state school anyway, or maybe Barber’s College). Chime in with your opinion: Which option sounds the most Fun? There are 4 seats still available if you chose option #3, on a cost-plus scenario. Just be warned, Quite Cool will be shoving Capri Sun after Capri Sun into my hands so I’ll think 47 bathroom stops on the 14 hour drive was my idea…
More to come in a few days--Mr. Cool falls in love, the Wide World of Water Aerobics, a Bracket Crash, and Mr. Cool reacaps the trip. But for now, my frozen (decaf) coffee drink is melting a bit.
Birds do it, bees do it, even President Obama does it--it's that bracket time of year again. While I didn't get to use a giant bracket emblazoned with the presidential seal, I too was able to fill out my bracket this year for the 2009 NCAA Men's Basketball Championship, the March Madness of lore.
Well, it's that time again - another peak into what makes Mr. Cool tick. Disc Golf is often considered a "sport" for pot heads, slackers, hippies, college kids, and youth pastors. I have been two of those things in my life (shouldn't be too hard to figure out which), but am no longer either. As a professional, of some kind, I should have moved on to an adult sport - like golf or squash. However, I have chosen to spend what little free time I give towards walking in the park to stay true to my disk golf roots. It is a simple game, throw a hard plastic disc (not a Frisbee) from the tee box towards the basket. Get a disc in the basket in as few strokes as possible. 
Like real golf, your love of the sport is not defined by your ability (as I'm just an average player), but by your acquiring of equipment. I've got 5 drivers, 3 approach discs, and 2 putters, and a professional grade disc carrier bag. That doesn't account for at least a dozen discs I've lost in trees, ponds, and jungles over the years. All discs, past or present, I would like to mention are sanctioned by the USDGA. That's right, the United States Disc Golf Association - we're official people. I've been throwing discs since 1991, and haven't looked back since. I throw disc with friends from work and friends from life. I've logged thousands of holes with the man who conducted my wedding and consider a mentor, and just finished 18 holes with my little brother. It definitely counts as an obscure sport, but it is addictive, fun, and my doctor considers it exercise (sucker)! 
