Thursday night was once again date night for Becca and me. We went to McMenamin’s on 19th and Agate, and weren’t terribly excited. We like the McMenamin’s on the North Bank better. After dinner, though, we went on Franklin Street to Camp Putt Miniature Golf. They’ve got 36 holes of golf split into two courses. We did the “old” course (according to the 16 year old manning the desk). The course consists of tricky angles and “natural” obstacles such as boulders that you need to navigate around. On a number of holes, you have to hit the ball hard enough to jump the river, but if you go too hard, your ball will skip out of bounds.

Although this style of mini-golf is quite a bit different than what I remember playing with Papa and Mama (my mom’s parents), I remarked to Becca as we were driving home (4 over par for me, and Becca’s … still learning!) that it brought back a flood of memories for me. I remember seeing Papa’s scorecard on his dresser in the funeral home, so I must have been pretty young. I remember either the first or second hole had a yellow loop-de-loop that provided constant frustration. I remember Papa being really good. And I also remember the last hole, which had a sloped clown’s face, and if you got the ball in the right place (the clown’s nose, I think), you got a coupon for a free game.

Memories like these are what I want my children and grandchildren to have.