On Saturday, we went up to Scandia Family Fun Center, near Madison and I-80, for some Miniature Golf.There was a time when I blamed most of the troubles in my life on Miniature Golf. That was specifically true near the end of high school, and sporadically in the years afterwards, when my Rio Rancho friends and I couldn't come up with any other mutually-agreeable activity on weekend evenings other than Miniature Golf (and sometimes Bowling), choosing to ignore my many warnings that there were no Girls at the Miniature Golf course, and that the whole thing was pointless anyway. At least you could see Girls if we went elsewhere, like the Movies. And Girls weren't necessarily thronging the places we went afterwards either - places like Der Wienerschnitzel. In fact, figuring out where the Girls actually were was a pressing problem. Supposedly they are half the human race, but you could have fooled me. Where did they all go? Were they under arrest in some stadium somewhere? But despite my warnings, my friends ignored me then.
And they ignored me now. There still aren't Girls at the Miniature Golf course. But somehow, with the lower testosterone levels consistent with Middle Age, who gives a crap anyway? That Whole Thing was pointless anyhow.
Anyway, there we were at Miniature Golf course on Saturday evening, listening to the deathly silence from the people riding the "Scandia Screamer" ride, and wondering about how quiet things were. That was the whole point, right? To scream? But all we could hear was the low rumble of the mechanism turning the "Scandia Screamer", and sense ice-cold fear as people were whipped dozens of feet into the air, into the refreshing Delta Breeze. A bit disappointing, from the listeners' perspective. I guess that Whole Thing was pointless too.
But sheer Pointlessness is an important component of Recreation. Everyone gets excited about a foot race, even though the runners are running around in a circle.
So, we had fun, and relaxed in each other's company....
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