Pre-Ramble: Every year it’s the same thing.  The weather guy goes on and on about how the Leonid meteors are in our area … and how they are going to be spectacular … and how we should go to a hill top away from city lights between the hours of 1 and 4 a.m. to see their magnificence.  They wax on about how the big show is only going to be visible for a limited time (like some kind of jewel-tone sweater set sale on the QVC), … and I get all fired up thinking that THIS will be the time that I finally see a shooting star.

Sure, I’ve seen shooting stars before. Once as a child when I was at a dude ranch in Arizona, and another time when I was a guest at an awesome retreat site in Carmel, California. But, in all the years I’ve been at home during prime meteor-shower time, I’ve never seen a single blip in the stupid sky. And it’s not like I’m standing under a marquee in Uptown … I’m camped out in my suburban driveway, the nearest street light is literally four miles away. It’s got to be some kind of scam.

Speaking of seeing stars, (not the TKO kind … ), we’re heading over to Hazeltine National Golf Club tomorrow to see if we can get a glimpse of the indomitable Tiger Woods working his magic on the links. After day one, Tiger is at the top of the leader board with a 5-under par 67. For those of you non-golfers, that’s a super good score. (I’m not bragging here, but I can easily shoot that in just 9 holes.)

At least on television, Tiger Woods has a physical presence and mental focus that seem almost otherworldly. A crushingly large gallery follows him from hole to hole along with an impressive security force (you can’t have people running over and chatting him up between holes in a competitive atmosphere so strict even the click of a camera can be a distraction). 

So, this year I dragged my daughters out on the meteor-watch with me.  If I’m going to see a shooting star, I want witnesses. It’s 1:27 a.m. and the three of us are sitting there in the dark, craning our necks skyward, waiting for a speck of space dust to streak past our field of vision.

Waiting …

Waiting … (necks are hurting … )

Waiting … (kids are getting restless … )

Waiting … (I am getting restless … )

And then, after what seems like an endless string of “oh-let’s-wait-just-one-more-minute” s, … as clear as day, … in the blink of an instant, … a small fiery ball shoots across the patch of sky between the trees.

The Take-Away: !!! 

Post Note: I’ll let you know if I witness any stellar shots at the PGA tomorrow –

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