Golf, Infinity and Rotary

I am out in western Colorado, reconnecting with the county I fled as too backward 35 years ago. It is still not where my head resides, yet I can't help but love the place.

In Minnesota, which is politically becoming too much like Colorado for comfort, I could lose myself in the woods or out on the water and feel insignificant in the moment, an edible speck in the great wilderness. But out here you don't measure yourself against the nearby landscape. The cosmos seems the only context and millennia the closest yardstick, whether you look at the great rock formations or the big sky. I am not simply occupying a tiny slab of the planet, I am a sub-microbe instantly whisked away at birth.

Not that I'm complaining. This is good to contemplate.

But then I am reminded again of the temporal shortcomings of this world. I played golf today with Wahlid. A Lebanese gentleman, a Rotarian, an oil and gas man, and confessed poor golfer who actually has a sweet swing and takes delight in every good shot. I would play with him any day of the week. From others, I learn he is also incomparably generous (he bought my beer) and a great community supporter.

I learn also that several members of the local Rotary — including a classmate of mine — stopped coming to meetings the year Wahlid was president. And they were vocal about why.

I think I am going to like spending more time here. I may even start going to Rotary meetings...