Erik’s Blog

The following is a document written by my father, Paul Rasmussen, about a recent golfing excursion to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, USA.

On Monday Erik decided to fly to the States and join the fun known as the Myrtle Beach Classic. Betsy picked him up at the Charlotte airport Tuesday afternoon, and I fed them both tacos and Rioja when they arrived in Morganton. On Wednesday morning, Erik and Betsy went to Grace Ridge so Erik could visit with his Grandfather, and a little before noon on Wednesday, Erik and I climbed into the well-loaded van and headed for Myrtle Beach. On the way, we picked up Jeff in Hickory, along with his clubs, his suitcase, his guitar, his sleep machine, a case of beer, and his bongo drums. Jeff took his normal position in the van’s driver’s seat, I moved over to shotgun position, and with Erik in the back, we had a pleasant and uneventful trip to the ocean.
(more…)

I wasn’t going to go on my annual golf outing this year for parenting reasons, mainly because I couldn’t leave Marga alone with the little primate beast for a full week. But then, at the last minute, my mother-in-law got sick; just the right amount of sick that she got time off work and was able to care for Nora. After double checking with my work and The Committee that hosts the event, I decided at the very last minute (16 hours before the flight) to go. Let me just say that it’s true what the psychologists say: Decision is the secret to unhappiness. There’s nothing like making a major decision (and this was only a week’s vacation, not moving to another country or anything) to make one miserable. However, once the decision was made, I immediately began to enjoy the trip. I was naively surprised to discover that me dumping Nora off on my in-laws was more of a favor than a burden. They were elated!
(more…)

Last April, I was contacted, via this blog, by the Art Director of Golf Digest, the most respected magazine related to golf. They were doing a story about a pub, The Ailsa Pub, that my friends and I had been to in Myrtle Beach, and wanted a copy of a photo of us gathered around a table. I was happy to provide such a photo for a chance to be published in such a prestigious periodical. Recently I have learned, from one of my very surprised friends, that my photo has, indeed, been used in the August 2009 edition of Golf Digest. My face, however, has been "selectively removed" by the artist.
(more…)

Aunt Belén bought these for you when she visited Dublin last year, as well as some onesies, one of which says "I am a happy spotted snake," or something similar. These little socks dressed up to look like shoes are already too small for you, and you’ve only worn them once. The problem with baby socks is that so many baby trousers have the feet built into them, so the socks rarely get used. But we put them on you and took this picture because they’re so cute. I suspect they might be reassigned as golf ball warmers, as they seem to be the perfect size for that. Yes, it’s important to keep your balls warm, especially on a cold day. It’s okay to snicker.
(more…)

This year, I wasn’t feeling very much like taking photographs at the annual February golf tournament that I attend in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. I was recovering from a stomach virus that struck me down the day before we left for the beach. As a result, I only took 43 photos and made three videos.
(more…)

When it comes to bad golf puns executed in the Sculpture genre, I think we have a winner. I found this porcine oddity on the side of a golf hole where my grandmother lives. These objects always baffle me because I am unable to avoid imagining myself in the artist’s position during the brainstorming process, wondering what the specifications, if any, for the piece might have been. Did someone specifically ask the artist for a statue of a sitting pig with golf clubs? Or was it a general "golfer pig" or "animal golfer"? Or did this idea spontaneously appear in someone’s noggin and only upon completion was a buyer sought? Were I a feline, this dosage of curiosity might be lethal.
(more…)

What follows are some photos I took with my iPhone this Saturday. In the morning, I played golf with my friend Manolo. He picked me up at 8:15 and we were back at 14:35. In those six hours and twenty minutes, we only had time to play 13 holes, stopping short to return home for lunch to not displease our better halves. That’s the problem with having a golf course 45 minutes away and including a shower and beer in the club house in the ceremony. I had a good time. Beer is never better than after three hours of walking up and down mountains in the sun carrying a heavy bag and taking a shower before hitting the bar. I was nine over on the front nine with a triple bogey (lost ball), so I had quite a few pars and bogeys. When I got home, I was beat. A little salad for lunch and direct to the siesta.

All the photos you’re about to see were geo-tagged to within 17 meters and uploaded to Flickr within seconds of the shutter opening. Ain’t technology amazing?
(more…)

This weekend, I participated in a golf tournament organized among friends. It was very similar to the tournaments I participate in most Februarys. On Thursday evening, my friend, Manolo, and I left for Asturias, the Spanish region bordering Cantabria on the west. We stayed in Hotel Aldama, which has a 9-hole "Pitch & Putt" course next to it. Soon after we got there, the other 5 men arrived, and we went out for dinner and drinks in nearby Llanes.
(more…)

During my investigations into poems, prayers, or dances that could be done to make this stop this seemingly eternal rain, I discovered the reason for all this watery misery. It turns out that everybody else in the world is sending their rain over here to get rid of it! That hardly seems fair. Well, thanks a lot, everybody!
(more…)

Every year I play in a golf tournament organized by my father in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. This year there were 16 participants staying in 4 condos playing golf in a 3-day tournament. I played excellent golf and ended up tied with the leader after all 54 holes, but I lost in a scorecard playoff.
(more…)