THE Open

You've got to love the British Open, THE Open as the Brits call it. Unless, of course, you have no idea what I'm talking about in which case you're forgiven as I am often esoteric which means abstruse and both of those are excellant words to use when you're trying to convey "known only to a few and unclear to the general public." (A thing I doubt is a good thing for a blogger to be. I am sure, though, it's good thing to loose the monkeymind after a four day hiatus, which, by the way, is not a sexual term but probably should be.) (The girl had a hiatus that just wouldn't quit.) In America land of the free and home of monster truck rallies, golf course designers find a beautiful piece of landscape and make it even more so by putting in acres of really green grass, digging difficult to find holes here and there, and planting ferns and flowers and what not for a small percentage of the overall population to enjoy. On the British Isles, golf course designers find a patch of land where nothing but weeds and gorse and brambles and the like will grow, a patch that is usually windswept, wet and cold and there they dig the same random bunch of holes for a small percentage of the overall population that are both masochists and golfers...to enjoy. When you turn on your television to tune in golf and see brown fairways, lighter brown greens and galleries wearing rain gear and parkas (although this year's weather was unusually clement) (global warming?) you know you've found THE Open. Another good hint is that it's on at seven o'clock in the morning which begs the question, what the hell are you doing watching television at seven in the morning if you're not looking for THE Open?

This year's Open was won by Tiger Woods who differed from the Tiger Woods who won last year's Open only in that he was a year older. A thing you couldn't say about his father. OKAY, I TAKE IT BACK. I'M SORRY. I DON'T ALWAYS KNOW WHERE THE MONKEYMIND WILL TAKE ME. Sheesh. Tiger was out there to win for his dad who had died recently and Chris DeMarco was out there to win for his mom who had died recently and Sergio Garcia was out there to win for his taste in clothing which died when he was twelve and his mother stopped dressing him. Sergio was attired in a color described as saffron. If I am ever dressed in a color described as saffron, I better have died recently and the person who dressed me better hope I can't come back. Saffron. Of course, Sergio is from Spain where saffron is pronounced thaffron as well it should be. On this same subject, I have to mention that my favorite comment of the entire four days was by a British announcer who clued us that golfer Aaron Baddely was nicknamed Dressed by the other golfers. For those of you slow on the uptake, that makes him Dressed Baddely which, I guess is better than being nicknamed Played. Aaron and Sergio should swap names.