Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Success on all fronts, I’m pleased to report, though the allure of cramming down multiple pimento sandwiches was much easier to resist this year than the last. Novelty, or more precisely the lessening thereof, certainly played a part. Whereas my first trip to the Masters was predicated on the likelihood that I would only attend the event once in my life, which effectively triggered a need to consume in excess, this trip was far more tempered. The Masters will be there as long as golf persists, and more importantly the opportunity to slather an odd cheese spread over cheap bread is really only limited by how often I shop for groceries.

Final sandwich count? One pimento, two chicken, one egg salad, and half a cookie. This wasn’t all at once, mind you–I have standards to maintain, you know–and the year-over-year decrease was substantial. The real coup, of course, came at the gift shop, where the final bill topped just over $83. Here, too, I made my peace with the novelty of Augusta, and in so doing accepted the merchandise for what it truly was: goods that had been routed to a different assembly line in faraway China to be stamped with the Masters logo.

I didn’t leave the course unscathed, though. Space-age sprayable block and traditional hat technology could only ward off so many of the sun’s vile rays, and here we are, four days later, deep in the sloughing process. And the pollen. The pollen! It is hellbent on my ruination. I glanced at the bathroom mirror yesterday in horror, my bloodshot, darkened eyes looking back at me. It’s like Mother Nature punched me twice in the face, honestly, and I will have my revenge. Perhaps I will generously litter. There is also the option of pulling up to the greenway and letting my car idle for a few hours, gas permitting. I haven’t decided yet.