You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
The ATT Pebble Beach Golf Tournament.
It’s the crown jewel of golf and it’s on full display this weekend.
There in high-definition, the majesty of this Royal golf course is on full display on CBS.
The vistas are remarkable. The sky is brilliant, baked blue like a robin’s egg. The sea is powerful, surging, crashing on jagged rocks sending up spray like white foamy dreams.
The Monterey Peninsula is smiling today.
It has combed its hair and brushed its teeth and starched its collar. It is sparkling and handsome and letting the world take a peek.
Jim Nance and Sir Nick Faldo are standing in front of Still Water Cove and the beauty surrounding them is almost unspeakable.
Magnificence is the first superlative that comes to mind. The backdrop is tranquil like stained glass. In this Pacific cathedral, crystal blue water crashes against timeless rocks as joggers meander down Carmel Beach.
Jim Nance says that the ocean, the fairways, the beach and the skies have been created by a higher being.
He’s right. He knows his words do not do it justice.
He simply stops talking and lets the sounds of the ocean and the smooth music and aerials from the blimp fill the screen.
The sweeping camera shots of the brilliant green grass set against the blue shimmering sea is startling.
The superstars, the pro golfers, the looky lous on the course are all wagging their tongues trying to watch golf while inhaling God’s splendor.
This tournament always grabs my attention. Not so much because I am a golf fan, but mostly because the ATT is home.
I grew up here. I went to school here.
I took the waves for granted. As a high school boy I yelled at pedestrians. “go home tourists”
We had keg parties on Carmel beach and made out in the ice plant below the 17th fairway.
I took it all for granted.
As a stupid teenager I disregarded the otters and seals and the cathedral of beauty.
It was like a seaside nature preserve sunning itself with wonderment.
I’ll never forget what my dad once told me as I packed my pick up truck for college. “Good luck in L.A. You’ll miss it here. It’s the end of the rainbow.”
I remember the words. I remember not really understanding what he meant. Many decades have since passed.
Now I know he was right.
Now I watch it on TV and I miss it.
Like a sirens song, it calls to me. I need to return.
The blimp floats over the peninsula. To most they see a geographical piece of splendor. But I see memories. I see home. I see roads I drove on, I see coves I partied in.
I remember back in the late 70’s. It was called the Crosby.
The celebrities would play Spyglass behind my school.
We would sometimes skip class and go down to the links and get autographs from Willie Mays and the like.
It was fun. But we took it for granted.
Now I miss it.
I wonder where is the rainbow and how do I get back to it.
Life has away of doing that. Making you miss the things you once took for granted.
So as I watch the magnificent vistas of Pebble Beach I think about taking things for granted.
It’s easy to miss what’s important while worrying about all the noise.
Like yelling at those tourists to go home, now I’m the tourist when I go home. I am a visitor in search of a way back.
I think about going home to the Rainbow by the sea.
It calls. It always called, but I didn’t hear it.
I was too dumb to realize I was so close to the pot of gold.
Now I see the path and must not take it for granted again.
Life only affords you so many do overs.
Don’t take it for granted.
Life’s Crazy™