Day 4: Blame it on the Rain (Milli Vanilli)

Well, the song must be used on Tuesday. Sitting in the cabin, blogging. Raining. Tom’s already headed to Frank’s cabin to get his reading glasses because he can‘t function.

We don’t know what our game plan is today. Breakfast. I heard water park. I heard spa. I heard casino. Don’t know if there is any indoor miniature golf.

Courtesy of Metro Lyrics (www.metro lyrics.com)

You said you didn't need her
You told her good-bye (good-bye)
You sacrificed a good love
To satisfy your pride
Now you wished
That you should have her (have her)
And you feel like such a fool
You let her walk away
Now it just don't feel the same
Gotta blame it on something
Gotta blame it on something

Blame it on the rain (rain)
Blame it on the stars (stars)
Whatever you do don't put the blame on you
Blame it on the rain yeah yeah
You can blame it on the rain
Get
Ooh, ooh (ooh)
I can't, I can't. I can't, can't stand the rain
I can't, I can't. I can't, can't stand the rain
Yeah, yeah
Should've told her you were sorry (sorry) huh
Could have said you were wrong
But no you couldn't do that. No, no
You had to prove you were strong ooh
If you hadn't been so blinded (blinded)
She might still be there with you
You want her back again
But she just don't feel the same
Gotta blame it on something
Gotta blame it on something

Blame it on the rain that was falling, falling
Blame it on the stars that did shine at night
Whatever you do don't put the blame on you
Blame it on the rain yeah yeah

You can blame it on the rain
Cos the rain don't mind
And the rain don't care
You got to blame it on something
(Blame it on the rain)
(Blame it on the stars)
Whatever you do don't put the blame on you
Blame it on the rain yeah, yeah
You can blame it on the rain
Girl

Ooh, ooh (ooh)
Girl
I can't, I can't. I can't, can't stand the rain
I can't, I can't. I can't, can't stand the rain

Get
Girl
(Whatever you do...)
(Blame it on the rain yeah, yeah) x 3
You can blame it on the rain, blame it on the rain,
blame it on the rain baby
(Blame it on the rain yeah yeah)
Blame it on the stars that did shine that night
(Blame it on the rain yeah yeah)
Blame it, blame it on the rain
woo
I'm walking
I'm walking

Walking in the rain
Walking in the rain

(Rain, rain)
(Stars, stars)
Whatever you do don't put the blame on you
(Blame it on the rain)
yeah yeah
(Blame it on the rain)
that keeps falling, falling
(Blame it on the stars)
that did shine that night
Whatever you do don't put the blame on you
Blame it on the rain yeah yeah
Blame it on the rain (rain, rain)

I think after our afternoon I could technically call us “Crazy, Sexy, Cool” -- well, maybe the crazy (and realize that this is the name of the album from TLC, not a song -- and it‘s 1994, not in the 80s). We head to have breakfast with the group. Leisurely -- something that doesn’t happen to our grab and dash pace of normal breakfasts. It’s been raining pretty good and we don’t really have an agenda. Bring up antiquing and we are met with lots of no’s to that. Don’t know what they have against antiquing. So, back we head to the cabins to do some work -- and watch quality morning TV (sadly mixed in with the waffle and bra commercials are tributes to Robin Williams who supposedly hanged himself and has “escaped his demons.”).

 And, we keep looking at the radar. Doesn’t take long for Ron to be texting us first, about bowling. Then, about golf. It’s raining, but not pouring. “Light mist to sprinkles,” we’ll call it. Tom calls up about tee times and Alpine is booked for the day, but we can play Monument in an hour. Sure. We know we have 6 people (Tom, me, Ron, Paul, Jeff, Cory). Frank is talking about his “systic nerve” per Ron and Pete was going to sleep. Then, Frank is in and supposedly only Pete is out (I could have taken bets on this outcome).

We gear up and head to the course -- and on the way, the “light mist to sprinkles” is really rain. Hmmm. Get there and Ron is already walking to the truck -- but just to drop off a pair of shoes. Walk up and Pete is there. Guess he couldn’t be the man left behind. And as Ron states, “I came here to play, not to read no magazines.“

We decide on a Nassau scramble -- our cabin vs. their cabin. No handicaps. No mulligans (or so we played since we didn‘t clearly establish the rules up front). Up we head with Pete, Frank, Ron and Paul leading the way. We’ll follow. It is raining pretty good.

And raining even more when we tee off (after Cory almost slides their cart sideways into ours, locking up the brakes on a wet cart path down a hill). Birdie the first, taking my dinky five-iron drive leaving us 210 yards out. We have a pretty decent strategy most of the holes -- me occasionally hitting first to make sure we have a good one safe so the rest can swing really hard.

 The rain really doesn’t let up. And we’re waiting for a cart girl, but figure pretty quickly we won’t see one and will have to wait until the shack in the meadow next to the 12^th hole. On hole 8 we wonder why we haven’t seen the others for a while -- thinking they were either playing fast or quit a while ago (why Tom’s phone kept ringing).

 Until we see them driving up towards 8 from the Alpine course (they cross over). Seems they took a wrong turn and played the wrong hole before they realized it.

 Wind picks up while we wait for them to play 8. I think 8 is a really pretty hole. There’s a bunker pretty much the entire right side. Narrow fairway. Trees down the left.

 8 is also where Jeff starts talking about quitting at the shack on 9. We tell him the shack is on  12, not 9, but he can quit on 9 if he wants. He continues on. Get to the shack and it’s closed (if it were open, he might have continued -- or stayed there and waiting on us to finish). Needless to say, no open shack, no beer. But, maybe at the cart barn so Cory goes to drop Jeff off there -- the Beach House has a bar across the street for him to wait while we finish up.

Now we get to alternate Jeff’s shots amongst the three of us. Works out well, but the chilly and wind aren’t. It does seem to stop raining -- a bit. Even if we don’t want to, we’re going to finish this round of golf.

Get to 18 and it’s not a hole I’m going to get to in 2. But, Tom and Cory can. And Cory has two second shots thanks to Jeff. First one (Jeff’s) goes into the water. But the second one is the shot of the day -- five feet from the pin. We make birdie to finish up winning the front, the total and tying the back. $10 a piece.

Since Jeff is at the bar at the Beach House, we load up the minivan with our wet stuff and head over there for a drink. Frank and them head out -- Pete wants a hot shower, NOW.

 But, we haven’t sat down and guess who walks in. Frankie turned the truck around to meet us for a drink. Tom gets Pete to pay up his $10. Frank pays me. Cory collects from Ron and Jeff from Paul. A bit of talk about Jeff bailing. Kinda like a Mikey walking off of Woodbridge. Jeff is the Mikey of Michigan.

 Tonight is “whitefish on a plank” dinner night. Frank has been talking and talking and talking about it and there is a restaurant down the road from Boyne Mountain (Mountain Grill, I believe) that we’ll go to. Have to have the timing calculations down for a meet up. Head back to the cabin to shower and unwind -- Jeff and Cory try out the hot tub. Cory to take the chill out from playing all 18. Jeff to take the chill out from hanging out at the Beach House while we played the rest of the round.

The Mountain Grill is pretty unpretentious from the outside -- and the inside. We get there first and find our location at the table -- one thing about there being another lefty on the trip is that it’s easy to find who to sit next to. We also know that people on the trip have certain places they like to sit -- so  Tom and Jeff chose those seats (poke, poke). Waitress takes our drink order -- she isn’t a beer connosieur (sp) so she’s not much of a help to Tom -- but brings a can and a bottle for him to look at to decide. He decides on Pick Axe Blonde. I go for an Oberon. And Jeff and Cory Diet Coke and Crown. We get our beers but takes a while for their drinks to come -- I think she went across the street to the market to buy their Crown. The rest get there -- drink orders take a while -- Frank’s the longest because she admits that she did send someone across the street to get his Bacardi. Frank, the gentleman that he is, tried to change his order but it’s too late. They all order fish items -- debate over the difference between perch and whitefish and maybe some other kind of fish. Since I can’t eat it, I don’t pay much attention, even though the conversation gets pretty lively. The whole dinner is pretty lively since a few cocktails have been had.

Then back to the cabin so that everyone can be fresh for “Liz’s Day” at Bay Harbor. Paul keeps asking if this is my favorite course and why it’s “my day.” He’ll find out. Frank’s told me he’s wearing lime green shirt and white belt and lime green shorts (the outfit I told him a few weeks ago he needed to wear to Bay Harbor). Paul will wear beige. Jeff probably as well, since I haven’t seen much color.

But, on the way back to the cabin, we stop for beer (and candy for Cory who is a Now and Later kind of addict) and Jeff and Cory try to use the ATM. Doesn’t work, but there is quite a debate about it. So, Tom decides ice cream is needed and I tell him I think there is a Kilwins at the Lodge. There is. So Jeff and Cory head in to continue this ATM outing while Tom and I get ice cream.

The ATM debate continues back at the cabin -- having trouble following it, but it involves doubling down and a call to Jeff’s wife, Julie. And Tom and I being witnesses. This “one act” continues for a good 30 minutes.

After this debate, turns to “name that tune.” I am out of it when it comes to classic rap, 90s, current, but pretty good at songs from the 80s. 90s, This could go on, so I head to bed to get rested up for Bay Harbor leaving Jeff and Cory to debate about something.