The weekend of April 26th marked a mini-reunion of sorts for three original friends from North Buffalo who met in their first days as 5th graders in 1987 at City Honors. I had the fortunate opportunity to drive up to Binghamton, NY to first stop in and visit Pete and Sue Malejs (and their little one that is due in August) before Peter and I would drive up to Ithaca on Saturday morning to golf with Greg Halpern. Pete and I woke at the crack of dawn to get to our 9:24 am tee time just east of Ithaca. We arrived early, hit some warm up shots on the driving range, and were ready to tee off.
But where was Greg? Always timely, we saw Greg rolling up in his Honda Element, which would later be the chariot of the most memorable moment of the weekend. He jetted out of the car in thick black pants, ankle high calf leather shoes and a tee-shirt, fittingly from his girlfriend's place. We fitted him up with shorts, he rented some clubs and by 9:40am we were fashionably late on the first tee.
Golf was great all around, catching up on life over the last few years, hearing stories about Pete teaching and bringing technology to his literature classes in Binghamton, Greg following his camera's lens from workshops in Oklahoma, to his classroom at Cornell and soon to Harvard. I discussed my new gig at Colony, life in NYC and the great experiences each bring to my days. But as the temperature crept to the high 70s, the turn after the ninth hole was the perfect moment to fuel up and start enjoying the last 9 with a few cold beverages.
Needless to say the last 9 were more fun, and started a great journey partying together for the rest of the evening.
We made it back to the sculpting professor's house Greg was watching up in Ovid, NY. We fired up the grill and finished off marinated squid, succulent BBQ chicken, fresh corn on the cob, and melon. Pete mixed up some great margaritas, where we nearly polished off an entire bottle of tequila because they were so good. Music entertained whether from an iPod or LP record player (yes! both ends of the technological spectrum), and we even intermissed with a call to good old Dan Cotter in San Diego. We laughed and reminisced together for almost an hour.
Our night really began and ended when we went out in Trumansburg, care of our designated driver Greg (and thank god he was). After fooseball, darts and a few Irish carbombs at the Rongovian Embassy, we headed home... but only to be pulled over by two cops who couldn't have been old enough to drink themselves. Our trusted designated driver handled the situation like a charm, gladly passed field sobriety tests, and we were on our merry way, crossing double yellow lines, then the fog line, then the double yellows, and then the fog line again. It is something the three of us will definitely look forward to doing again, and hopefully much sooner than the previous gap between seeing each other.
But where was Greg? Always timely, we saw Greg rolling up in his Honda Element, which would later be the chariot of the most memorable moment of the weekend. He jetted out of the car in thick black pants, ankle high calf leather shoes and a tee-shirt, fittingly from his girlfriend's place. We fitted him up with shorts, he rented some clubs and by 9:40am we were fashionably late on the first tee.
Golf was great all around, catching up on life over the last few years, hearing stories about Pete teaching and bringing technology to his literature classes in Binghamton, Greg following his camera's lens from workshops in Oklahoma, to his classroom at Cornell and soon to Harvard. I discussed my new gig at Colony, life in NYC and the great experiences each bring to my days. But as the temperature crept to the high 70s, the turn after the ninth hole was the perfect moment to fuel up and start enjoying the last 9 with a few cold beverages.
Needless to say the last 9 were more fun, and started a great journey partying together for the rest of the evening.We made it back to the sculpting professor's house Greg was watching up in Ovid, NY. We fired up the grill and finished off marinated squid, succulent BBQ chicken, fresh corn on the cob, and melon. Pete mixed up some great margaritas, where we nearly polished off an entire bottle of tequila because they were so good. Music entertained whether from an iPod or LP record player (yes! both ends of the technological spectrum), and we even intermissed with a call to good old Dan Cotter in San Diego. We laughed and reminisced together for almost an hour.
Our night really began and ended when we went out in Trumansburg, care of our designated driver Greg (and thank god he was). After fooseball, darts and a few Irish carbombs at the Rongovian Embassy, we headed home... but only to be pulled over by two cops who couldn't have been old enough to drink themselves. Our trusted designated driver handled the situation like a charm, gladly passed field sobriety tests, and we were on our merry way, crossing double yellow lines, then the fog line, then the double yellows, and then the fog line again. It is something the three of us will definitely look forward to doing again, and hopefully much sooner than the previous gap between seeing each other.
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