Cleaning and Arnie Palmer

Ok, so yesterday I decided to really clean our all purpose room. B tells me... there are cobwebs on that book case. WHAT! I am anal. I do not DO cobwebs. I go look at the shelf. Oiks. There is a thingy of dust hanging down. It has cat hair in it. Revolting. So, I trots off to get my heavy duty headband and all the cleaning accouterments. As soon as I drag out the vacuum, the cats vanish. Good.

Ok, I decide I will actually put on my glasses so I can really see how bad this dust thing has gotten while I've been being lazy. Holy shit. The situation is GRIM. I look behind the computer table at the 9 miles of cables and wires covered with dust, cat hair and who knows what else. And start thinking about my bottle of wine. Sigh..........

Ok, there's nothing for it. I move furniture including the offending book shelf. I get down on my hands and knee and start. So, I'm cleaning away when I find a golf ball. A golf ball??? Ok, my Hunnibunni's golf clubs aren't too far away but I am NOT touching them. Yanno how men are afraid to go in our purses? Well, I'm avoiding his golf bag like the plague. So, I take the golf ball and toddle off to the closet where I know B has stashed away about 10 billion golf balls. I look on the shelf and think... WHAT is all this stuff??? There are, count 'em, THREE brand new golf gloves and 2 opened boxes of golf balls from Scotland that Chris sent him for his birthday a year ago. He is "saving" them. For what? Until they rot and he whacks one and black ooze explodes out of it? Oiks. There are also several loose mystery golf thingies that have absolutely no known use.

Ok, I decide these mystery thingies need to be consolidated. I gets a plastic food container from the cupboard and decide, I'll stash all this golf stuff in here and put some of this other crap in the cupboard in the bathroom. BIG fat mistake. I get the golf crap all nicely into the container and go into the bathroom.

Oh man. Now I have to clean the cupboard in there because everything is a mess and I need more room. An hour later I now have the cupboard in great shape. So, I toddle back to the closet. Now I have to clan the shelf where all the golf stuff was. Meanwhile, the computer desk still has wires all over until I can get back to it. My wine is hollering at me. One of the cats ventures out so I wave the vacuum cleaner hose menacingly at her. She evaporates. Smart kitty.

Now, because I am surrounded by golf stuff I start thinking about Arnie Palmer who is, in my book, one of the nicest men I ever met.

HOW did you meet Arnie Palmer, you query?? I will tell you. :D

Decades ago I lived in Carmel by the Sea, California. The home of Pebble Beach, Cyprus and Spyglass golf courses and several fancy tournaments. Arnie played in lots of them and always managed to eat dinner at The Pump House where I was his waitress. Arnie remembered me from year to year. Now, this is a seriously famous man who must meet thousands of people every year. HOW did he manage to not only remember me but my name? It's a mystery. Ok, fast forward a couple of years.

The Pump House closed and I was working at a place called The Hatch Cover in Carmel Valley. Again, I am the bar waitress. One evening in walks Arnie and his retinue. He flings his arms around me and shouts, 'MOE! You're in the wrong restaurant!" Now, I have not seen him for 2 years. Is this guy cool, or what?

Now, I was working with a PITA bartender named Ron Magieri. We did NOT like each other but had to work together. Ok. Ron is a BIG golfer and Arnie, naturally, is his hero. He begs me to get Arnie's autograph. Now, Carmelites pride themselves on never bothering celebrities. We had so many that we just let them be so they could be normal people and we protected them from tourists who wanted... autographs. Ron should have known better and I told him no, I wasn't going to bother Arnie. Ron nagged until I finally said, 'ok, i'll ask him". So, when Arnie was alone for a minute, I asked.

Arnie said ok then asked for Ron's name. I told him Ron Magieri. I thought Arnie would scrawl his name on a napkin and Ron would be happy. But, Arnie went back to his table and apparently forgot. I told Ron I had asked and to shut up already, there wasn't anything more I could do. But, I did feel bad. He was crestfallen.

Arnie and retinue finished dinner and called out goodbye to me. They left. Ron was sad and I was kind of bummed. Oh well.

About 5 minutes later the bar door opens and in walks Arnie Palmer. He marched up to the bar where Ron was standing with his mouth open. Arnie stuck out his hand and said, "Hey, are you Ron Magieri? Well, I'm Arnie Palmer and I heard good things about you and that you're a great golfer!" Ron just about passed out. Arnie brought Ron one of those color 8 X 10 stills which he'd personalized and signed. What a guy! I was just about in tears. Arnie gave me another hug, said, "see you next year!" and left. Arnie Palmer. My hero. What a guy! Every time I see him on TV I remember his kindness to a man he'd never met.

Do you know, I never had any more trouble with Ron. :D

Ok, so, I stop thinking about Arnie and go back to cleaning. Three hours later I am done. My hips are killing me and my wine has left itself out of the fridge and poured itself into a BIG glass. Ahhhhhh. I'm a happy girl.