Every spring for the past eight years I have gone on a trip to mark the official opening of golf season. Three of the four men going this year have gone on every trip. The fourth is going for his third year in a row and seems to have achieved elite status.
Last year I thought one of the originals was going to back out. He was having a house built and dealing with other family issues, plus had a time-consuming project going on at his work. He didn't let us down though; he found time to make the trip.
I had been engaged for a little more than a month at the time of last year's trip, and knowing that my wedding was scheduled for April 2005 had me worried that I was going to be the one to offically back out of the trip for the first time. How could I justify taking a golf vacation just a month before getting married?
Then somebody in the group saved me, by uttering one simple word:
We leave tomorrow. And while we will golf a bit (though not as much as we normally do) this has become a send off, one last trip with the boys before I join (most of) them in wedded bliss.
My fiance, bless her, is happy that I am getting the chance to say farewell to my bachelorhood with a few days in the Nevada desert. She gets her fun in a few weeks, though she and her group are not covering as much distance as mine is.
This is like the perfect storm: the convergence of many events coming together in one location: St. Patrick's Day, the first two rounds of the NCAA tournament, golf, a bachelor party in Las Vegas.
I expect sensory overload.
See you when I get back.