11 April 2010
Memories from the Masters
I spent most of Sunday afternoon watching the world's best golfers do amazing things with club and ball. It did seem true that much of the game was played between the ears. Of course, my best day on a golf course was hoping for a bogey.
When Phil Mickelson took off his cap I had a flashback to my childhood watching my grandfather in the 1940s come in from the fields of his Wisconsin farm, removing his dirty, sweaty hat before washing up for dinner, the main meal of the day around noon. The bottom half of his face was brown and leather-like and the forehead was abnormally smooth and creamy-white.
When he took his long sleeve shirt off he was white all the way down to the hands, like Mickelson just above the elbow in the picture above. This is what happens when people work in the sun, like farmers and golfers and those who work on the water. I remember a roofer named Chester who worked in the summer without a shirt or hat. He was coppery-brown all the way down to his low waist. I wonder if the dermatologists ever got a chance to see him in his later years?