Flashback Friday is a weekly series on “Hopes and Dreams.”
Each Friday a different memory from Jessi’s or John’s past is posted. You are invited to join the fun and record a memory of your own, too, whether it be on your blog, in your journal, in an audio file, etc. The objective is to foster an appreciation and desire for personal record keeping as we are forming our personal histories. Also, if you chose to blog your memory, you are invited to link up to our memory (but only if you wanna).
The memory today comes compliments of John William:
Thanks to my work friend Christie of my old job at the bank for inspiring the telling of this story. One day, I got an e-mail from Christie that read: “Tell me a story, please!!” This is the happy result of that e-mail.
Alright, here goes:
Once upon a time, there was a group of friends. Their names were…not important. And I was not one of them. Just in case you were wondering. Why would you imagine such a silly thing? Anywho, let’s get back to the story. This group of friends, like any other group of friends in high school, had a fancy for some mischief from time to time. And it is this very fancy that brings them to our attention today.
This group of friends–four young men (they may be described as rather handsome, just so that you might feel better acquainted with them)–decided one pleasant afternoon that they would like to go on an excursion to the golf course. At the golf course, they certainly preferred riding the carts to walking, so they split up into two carts. After all, as everyone knows, the carts are the real reason that anyone goes golfing.
At Pebblebrook golf course, there is a certain hole whose tee box is set up on a well-forested hill overlooking the rest of the hole. So, the friends sat atop the hill, hitting their respective drives down onto (or at least in more or less the general direction of) the fairway. I–I mean…one of the unnamed friends of the group…[cough], and one of his unnamed companions, took their golf cart down to the fairway to await the remainder of their unnamed amigos. The way down was not a straight line, for it would have been far too steep. Nor did the pathway lead directly down the hill, for the forest and miscellaneous shrubbery were far too dense. Instead, there was a winding switchback road in place for golfers to make their way safely down and around the hill.
After the two had descended this series of switchbacks, they sat waiting for their two friends to do the same. A minute or two passed by, and they began to wonder what was taking so long. Several more minutes passed, and they thought that perhaps they should go back up the hill and see what was the matter. Just then, they heard voices from the top of the hill. It was their friends, they seemed excited about something. Then, several very curious things happened all at once. Recall, if you will, the scene from Jurassic Park, where our heroes were being pursued by the Tyrannosaurus Rex. Picture in your mind the way that the trees swayed and parted, and the cracking sounds which accompanied this as the forest yielded to the beast.
A similar scene was unfolding before us. Beginning from the trees at the top of the hill, there was a great deal of swaying, parting, and cracking. Somewhat befuddled, we–I mean the two friends–watched as the forest continued to be upset by this unknown intruder. Then, shouting emerged from whatever it was that was causing this commotion. Shortly after the shouting commenced, one of the friends came running from the forest, dirt covering his shoes, and turned back to witness the fate of his companion. It was then that the two bottom-of-the-hill friends caught sight of the offending object, the source of this great commotion: Sliding sideways through the forest, wheels spinning up mud, bouncing off trees, was the golf cart of these young thrill seekers. Behind the wheel of this out-of-control cart sat one of the friends, with a gleeful look on his face akin to what one might expect of a cowboy atop a wild bull. Soon, though, the friend found himself a little too sideways for his own good, and the cart began tipping over, forcing him to jump from the side and run out of the forest. Without the weight, the cart once again found its balance and settled to a stop in the middle of the mud and debris.
Here, we could end our story, leaving you with what is already a rather chaotic and ludicrous scene to enjoy. However, there is more. One of the friends in the original cart down on the fairway had been laughing so hard that he had fallen from the golf cart and was laying on the ground. Once this whole affair seemed to have ended, he looked to the side to see how his other friend in the cart was taking all of this. To his great surprise, though, his other friend in the cart was no longer there. In fact, nor was the cart. He looked back, and redoubled with laughter: His friend had evidently neglected to set the parking brake on their cart when he had exited it to laugh at this hilarity. As the fairway had a downhill grade, he was about a hundred yards down the course, frantically chasing their runaway cart. The laughter continued for a good several minutes thereafter.
And there you have it: The legendary story of the four-wheeling golf cart excursion. Hope you enjoyed it.