The simple things

There is the oldest little mini golf place the town over from us.  It has been there for as long as I can remember.  I have memories of going there as a little kid, long before the mini golf places of today existed.  In fact, it was the first place I can remember playing mini golf.  And I will never forget when the new, fancy mini golf place opened up one more town over.  It had waterfalls; it had a pirate ship; it was awesome.  From that point on, this place was just one that we passed by, as middle schoolers, then high schoolers, barely giving it a second look, as we left the old behind and raced toward newness.

We didn't start off this evening intending to go there.  It was by happy mistake that we even ended up there at all.  Promises of a carnival that were quickly dashed (who knew there was a Mendon, NY too) were soon forgotten when we pulled in and Max saw the giraffe, the rhino and the rocket ship.  He had never played mini golf before and there couldn't have been a better place to take him.  We were the only ones playing and the course was exactly how I remembered it: old, worn, and perfect.  Some holes had figures but most were just simple and straightforward, no bells and whistles, just a few humps, a few bumps and a hole.  Max played 5 holes tops, and spent the rest of the time running around, checking out the scenery and telling us all how much he loved it.  

And I don't blame him.  I love it too.  It has withstood the test of time.  And it has won.  I wish I could say the same for the awesome mini golf place.  But sadly, it's newness got old and it had to shut off the water, take down the pirate ship and close its doors for good.  There certainly is something to be said for the simple things.