I am now recovering from the maelstrom that was Lacey's visit. It was a long, drunken, rainy weekend almost devoid of any golf, save the Sunday trip to the driving range with my new roommate Tanner. (We hit in the rain like crazy people. It's good to have found a kindred spirit.)
Lacey is now officially cooler than me. The realization set in slowly: right around the 5th or 6th shot on Friday night, the one where I had to lay off because my 210 pound ass couldn't handle any more liquor. Perhaps there is relief to be found in passing the torch to someone more deserving of the title "coolest person in the family." I am like the old gunslinger who, tired of a life constantly on the line, walks away from his final showdown appearing the coward, but finds solace among the living, able to finally observe his last days in peace.
So here's to you, Lacey. Cheers!
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