“We must remember that the purpose of the abk lifestyle is to live every day like it’s my 40th birthday. So that on my actual 40th birthday, it’s irrelevant if we go to Vegas or eat sandwiches at the house.”-abk
The story begins on Saturday night April 2 in New Orleans, Louisiana, and ends on Monday afternoon May 9 in Pinehurst, North Carolina.
When it became apparent that my Duke Blue Devils would be playing the hated UNC Tarheels in the Final Four in New Orleans on a Saturday night in early April, my juices started flowing.
And they didn’t stop flowing until I tapped in for par on the last hole at the world famous Pinehurst # 2, one of the best (and hardest) golf courses on Planet Earth.
After that five hour walk, the ten hour drive down, and the previous five weeks, I finally took a breath.
After arriving home in the wee hours following that electric Saturday night, soon after, I watched my son make his first real birdie on the golf course.
Soon after, my brother and his family arrived in town from Raleigh.
Soon after, we celebrated my little daughter turning seven months old.
Soon after, one of my best friends for my whole life and his family arrived in town from just outside of Charlotte.
Soon after, I headed over to Houma, Louisiana to play in a tournament at Ellendale Country Club on a picture perfect day for golf.
Soon after, we all buckled in as we prepared to host the Boys High School State Championship, a monumental, all hands on deck task that was extremely exhausting, but a wonderful experience.
Soon after, I joined a smattering of family and friends back in Charlotte for my first Charlotte FC soccer game in person.
Soon after, we swung by my son’s previous favorite restaurant to grab pizza and pasta before the kids jumped in my sister’s freezing cold pool.
Soon after, we celebrated my mom’s retirement after 25 years as church organist as she played a couple of bangers before finally hanging it up.
Soon after, we celebrated Christy, Suz, my mom, and all the moms with a delicious steak cookout at my childhood home.
Soon after, my mom and I snuck out to a local golf course, flying through 18 holes with the weather unseasonably cold and most guys banned from playing on Mother’s Day.
Soon after, my dad and I headed to Pinehurst Resort, a special father/son Monday out, but also my annual test at # 2 to see how much progress I’ve made.
After I tipped my caddie and thanked him profusely, my dad asked me what was next. I told him that I was thirsty, hungry, and wanted to sit down. I grabbed a seat, annihilated a hot dog, and took a few deep breaths, proud as hell of how I had just played.
As much as I’d like to tell you that there are more deep breaths on the horizon, that is probably not true. Jet ski season is finally here, anything but khakis®️ turns five next week, and I turn forty.
And I have to say that, as I sit here right now, sandwiches at the house to celebrate is sounding pretty damn good.
Have a great week.-Benj
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