Silly Stories with Dairy.

The magic of mini golf.

I remember how excited I was when my parents bought their first house and we moved in to find a bunch of junk left in the shed. My parents weren't thrilled that the junk had been left behind but my childhood imagination was amazed at the possibilities. 

"I could build a fort. Maybe I could turn this whole shed into my fort." I raced into the house and unpacked my colored pencils. 

I remember doodling blueprint after blueprint of giant mansions that balanced on a single post or would float by the power of love. I spent days trying to think of something I could use all of that junk for.

Before long I made friends with a neighbor child who was the same age as me. He began coming over every day after school and we eventually found ourselves sorting through all of the junk in the shed. There were countless unused sections of gutter drains that probably totaled over 100ft. There was an old windmill blade tucked in a corner with a bunch of old tin signs. They were rusted over. The most magical item of all though. Was a leather golf bag tucked up in the rafters with some ancient looking golf clubs inside.

The drivers were made of wood and were long cracked and decayed from their age. We found a ton of golf balls stored in one of the pockets and everything clicked into place for our tiny minds. We decided that we would use the drain pipes and everything to make our own miniature golf course. We spent days doodling blueprints of how magical our course could be. We began thinking of how we could invite all the kids in the neighborhood and charge them to play. We were going to than use all of that money to invest in Pokémon cards. Which we would have had no idea was an investment. We assembled the course and absolutely littered the lawn with trash and debris from the shed.

 We spent hours duck taping pieces together in super uneven segments and positioned them at angles which made no sense. We had created the coolest looking mini golf course our tiny little minds had ever dreamt of. We did not understand physics would make most of it unplayable but we loved it all the same. We spent hours trying to smack balls as hard as we could to get them through our difficult courses. We would often miss the drain pipe completely and send golf balls rocketing in all directions untethered.

I have no earthly idea how my friend and I failed to destroy any property that day. We were very reckless. We ended up never being able to try to reassemble the course sadly. Since we had cleared out the shed anyways, my parents just had it either tossed or moved into the garage. They made sure to keep a few segments of drain pipe so that my friend and I could make a simple and fun mini golf course.

It was never the same however. We missed that rush of just being able to unload all of our strength into our swings. We missed the idea that we could break the laws of physics and make these impossible shots. We also grew tired of having to move things around the garage to get to the segments of gutters just to turn around and put them away. So we eventually gave up on them all together. We really missed swinging those golf clubs though.

That summer my friend and I. Along with a third friend were signed up for a summer golfing club for kids. We would either walk or get dropped off and a large group of kids would play golf together with minimum supervision. My friends and I quickly grew tired of lugging our heavy golf equipment around this large golf course and it did not take long for us to hate golf.

However we still loved going to this golf course. We eventually would only bring two or three clubs each so that we could lighten to load of our bags. We would than were our swim trunks and spend the entire time at the golf course swimming in the water holes and collecting golf balls. By the end of that summer my friends and I had collected a bunch of five gallon buckets filled with every golf ball ever made. 

Sometimes we would sit next to the ball washing stations and offer to wash peoples balls. (Authors note: "Giggity.")

This golf course was right next to the states international airport and was often packed with travelers wasting time. We started to get tips for things like washing balls and carrying clubs to peoples cars. People would even pay us to swim into the water holes and retrieve their balls. We weren't making anything to brag about. A Nickle here, a dime there. Sometimes a dollar would be the jackpot. We had buckets filled with countless golf balls we had zero need for. We had created a real treasure for ourselves.

However the real treasure was the memories we made along the way.