1. I hadn't been down to the dentist's office for three days and I thought they might be missing me so I trudged down, popped in the chair, and opened wide while the dentist worked on my bite a little more and his assistant made impressions of my upper and lower arches. Those impressions will go to the lab and, soon after Thanksgiving, I'll have a guard to wear at night.
2. I chipped away at more business details today involving vaccinations, insurance, Social Security, and banking. I also brought the front and back hoses into the garage and emptied the planters on the deck and stored them.
3. I checked out the Golf Channel's listings of on demand programming and it thrilled me to see that I could watch an hour long documentary, '86. It tells the story of Jack Nicklaus storming from four shots behind, firing a 30 on the back nine, a 65 for the round, and, improbably, at the age of 46, winning the Masters Tournament for the sixth time. I can't think of a performance in any sport that moved me more deeply and that continues to bring to me tears whenever I see replays of it. The documentary centered around the fact that most people who saw Nicklaus' back nine at Augusta on April 13, 1986 know exactly where they were when Nicklaus achieved the astonishing feat.
I was living in a tiny basement apartment on West Broadway in Eugene. I was alone, glued to the television, and when Tom Kite and Greg Norman both failed in their efforts on the 18th hole to tie Nicklaus and send the tournament into a playoff, I watched Bernhard Langer hold the winner's green jacket while Nicklaus put his arms through the sleeves and Langer pulled it over his shoulders and then I called Dad so we could share in our astonishment at what we had just witnessed. Over the past twenty years, Dad and I had watched a lot of golf on television together. We had also seen Jack Nicklaus play in an exhibition match in Spokane in 1975. For years, we had always rooted for Nicklaus' competitors. We pulled for underdogs. But as Jack Nicklaus aged and as Dad and I became increasingly appreciative of how graciously he conducted himself in competition, we became fans of Jack Nicklaus. By 1986, Nicklaus' skills seemed to be eroding a bit. Dad and I never dreamed we'd see him win another major golf tournament, especially a thrilling come from behind victory like we'd just witnessed.
I loved watching this program and having that Sunday afternoon come back to life.
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