Edinburgh Golf Club, Brooklyn Park, MN
I’ve never been much for formal social events.
When I was a child my father would bring me to various “dinners” the point of which which were always beyond me. I did meet Fran Tarkenton once, so I guess that counts for something.
Lately, and perhaps this is a by-product of my dotage (or just a restlessness to get out of the house after months of isolation), I have found that these kind of affairs have a renewed appeal. When I learned that an acquaintance of mine was to be inducted into my high school’s hall of fame at a banquet at a swanky golf club I jumped at the opportunity.
Pardon the regressions.
The banquet went well and I even connected with a few people, including the sister of a favorite class-mate who was just as delightful as her sibling. There were even a couple of teachers in attendance comprising a very small group by now.
“Another thing off my bucket list,“ I joked to a friend who was there, “The only thing left on mine now is KFC:
A different sort of banquet, to be sure.