"Be still, son!"

Lovett and I went to the Regions Charity Classic golf tournament at Ross Bridge Resort today.

Neither of us know that much about golf. My company is one of the sponsors and we get free tickets every year and I hate to waste free tickets.

Formerly, the tournament was the Bruno's Memorial Classic at Greystone Golf and Country Club, an intimate course with people's backyards bordering the cart path. The Ross Bridge course is huge. I used to like walking the entire Greystone course, but I gave up at Ross Bridge. Maybe I'm getting old or something.

A couple of funny things happened to us. First, we were standing in the shade to the left of the fifteenth fairway. It was a perfect spot. Picture a long, thin pond across the fairway, the fifteenth hole a couple of hundred yards to the right, the fifteenth tee a couple of hundred yards to the left on the side of a high hill. Across the thin pond to the right is the fourteenth tee, and to the left the fourteenth hole. A good to-fer, something that wasn't possible at Greystone.

We watched a couple of threesomes play the two holes. Then up steps Mike Sullivan, who whacks his tee shot, which not surprisingly, I lost. I commented to Lovett, "I hope that thing doesn't come up here." As soon as I stopped talking I heard a whistle over my head and a plop in the woods behind me. We turned and not twenty feet behind us lay the ball on the other side of the cart path. Sullivan hit another tee shot but when he saw that the ball wasn't very far in the woods he played it. (Apparently you can do this. Not knowing golf I'm not sure about the rule. He bogeyed the hole, I know that.)

Then, we walked around to thirteen and arrived as a threesome was on the green. Thirteen's hole is high above the cart path. From the path I could see the golfers only from the waist up. As the marshal signaled for silence, I stopped in the path, but Lovett kept walking up the slope towards the ropes. It was too late for me to stop him. Jim Dent was addressing the ball ("Hello, ball!") when suddenly he stood upright. He's 6'3'', so when he stands up, you notice. The three caddies turn to Lovett and yell, "Be still, son!" Lovett stopped dead in his tracks, Dent bent back over the ball, missed the putt, and then knocked it in.

We got some pretty good mileage out of that one, believe me. It was "be still, son" this and "be still, son" that the rest of the day. Lovett's attitude was, "It's just a game, what's the big deal?" until I kidded him that he probably cost Jim Dent $100,000. Then, I looked at the scorecard after we got home and saw that Dent is tied for 38th and that he birdied the hole. So Lovett only cost him an eagle. Is that bad?

We walked around some more and one of the marshals heading off duty handed Lovett the "quiet paddle" that he raises to quiet the crowd. Except here in Alabama the paddles say "Hush Y'all" (isn't that cute?). Lovett raised it high the rest of the afternoon, anytime he suspected that someone was about to break a rule. Funny man (the man in the picture is not Lovett, though he may be funny, too).

Last night, Lovett and I were eating a late supper at Krystal when somehow the discussion got around to CS Lewis and JRR Tolkien and which one introduced the other to Christianity and how Lewis loved allegory but Tolkien didn't and how they read their work to one another. This has nothing to do with golf but I just wonder how many men were privileged to have a conversation like that with their thirteen-year-old sons last night?

United 93

Last night I had some time to myself so I decided to go to a movie. Regular readers (if I have any left due to my sporadic postings) know that I don't go to many movies and that I don't go to any just to be going. So I intentionally wanted to see United 93. I don't recall that I knew they were even filming it. I became aware of it when it was released and I read about the controversy it generated. Too soon after 9/11? Trivializing a tragic event? Exploitative of the victims and their families?

From the very beginning it was apparent that this was no ordinary movie.

The director, Paul Greengrass, had his work cut out for him. The story is familiar. The outcome is known and it is not a happy ending. And I believe he handled it magnificently. He didn't have to try very hard to get the audience emotionally involved. To the contrary, his main job was not to patronize us with maudlin sentimentality and false drama. And so he presented the story with just the facts. No opening credits. No intrusive soundtrack. Fade in to terrorists praying in their hotel rooms. Cut to airport arrivals. Rudimentary security checkpoints. Gates. Op Centers. ATC towers. Boston ATC loses contact with a plane. Controller thinks he heard hijacker's voice but he can't be sure. Smoke from the World Trade Center. Small private plane? Contact lost with another plane. Where is the military? Where is the president? Can we engage these hijacked planes?

What he successfully did was take me back to that day. The disbelief. The confusion. The shock. Is this really happening? Another plane has hit the towers? The Pentagon? Does anybody know what the hell is going on? I became emotional as the reality of those events unfolded. The gaping hole in the first tower. The Newark controllers watching the second plane hit. The CNN camera showing the smoke from the Pentagon from a camera somewhere near the Old Executive building near the White House.

He made me remember.

And it hurt. I've never been so ready for a film to be over. To walk out into the fresh air. To see the stars. To hear my kids slam doors. To have someone cut me off on the highway. To be distracted by life again. To forget. But I can't.

The banter of the flight crew and passengers about anniversaries they weren't going to celebrate, restaurants they would never visit, e-mails they would never read, trails they would never hike. The phone calls home. Trying to reach family. Someone. Anyone. Just pray. I love you. Goodbye. The most sobering scene? Closeup of a passenger breathing the Lord's prayer. Cut to a second passenger breathing the Lord's prayer. Cut to a third passenger breathing the Lord's prayer. Cut to the terrorist in the cockpit, flying the plane. Breathing a prayer. Oh, my.

That, my friends, is my definition of art.

Random observations from this latest cinematic experience:

1. There were no big name actors in this movie. The only person I recognized was the weird old lady who worked the ticket booth on Wings (Fay, maybe?) and had buried several husbands who had all died mysteriously. I think she had one line in this movie.
2. Some of the acting was a little stilted, I thought at the time, and then when the closing credits ran I saw why. Several people in the film played themselves. Air Traffic Controllers, National Ops Center people (including the guy who decided to shut down all the US air space), military people, etc. I thought that was incredible. I hope it was cathartic for them.
3. $3.65 for a small popcorn? I don't think so.
4. I'm not ready for the digital revolution or the reality-based herky-jerky camera shots. This movie, technically speaking, was a 111 minute IMAX movie, and IMAX movies make me want to hurl. I'm still dizzy as I type this.
5. Coming attractions, thumbs-down: Do we really need remakes of Poseidon Adventure and The Omen? Come on, give us something original.
6. Coming attractions, thumbs-up: Coming soon, Sean Penn, Anthony Hopkins, Kate Winslett, and some other people I'm not familiar with, in Robert Penn Warren's All the King's Men. Yeah, that's what I'm talking about.