So, I like coffee shops. While in Troy, I frequently went to Nightsky. While in Springfield, I frequent the Mudhouse (which I'm at now). When I first got back to Troy after my year in Springfield and discovered Nightsky, which had opened in my absence, I was pleasantly surprised that there was a coffeeshop in Troy, but when I went in, I thought "Mudhouse is better." My friend Tim stopped by and we had lunch at Nightsky, and were discussing coffeeshops (and my dream to someday open one) and he asked why I didn't like Nightsky. I didn't know then, but now that I'm at Mudhouse, I think I like the Mudhouse more because the lighting. Nightsky has little lamps on many of their tables, and it's rather dim in general. This subdued lighting makes it so that their are islands of light surrounded by streams of darkness (wow, what a horribly forced metaphor). And for some reason, the conversations at Mudhouse seem to blur together more, and the cocktail party effect doesn't seem to work as well here, which makes it seem much warmer and perhaps conspiratorial. I also think Mudhouse has a much greater diversity - I look around right now and I see businessmen in suits with day-planners out, students with books, a mother with her teenage son, a guy with a laptop, a twenty-something girl gabbing on her cell phone while she slurps down an iced drink of some sort, and about a dozen others. This eclectic atmosphere is just a nice place to lose yourself.
On a related note, my friend Matt seems to have been inspired by our round of golf yesterday. The round of golf was interesting - I didn't plan on golfing so I ended up playing with some old clubs that Cal had. Apparently they were his aunt's old clubs or something. They were old women's clubs (Lady Somethings), blades, wood "woods," and no driver. For those who don't know, blades are slightly harder to play than cavity backs, because they have smaller sweetspots. Many people suggest you should play with blades though because they'll make you a better golfer, as your swing will become more consistant, and you can learn to shape your shots. Anyway, considering the odds, I was surprised that I shot a 53 on the front nine, and even though I was playing with two hackers and Matt, who's learning the game, I was pleased that I had beat everyone else by 5 to 15 strokes. Fast forward to the back nine, where I fell apart - the trio shot 57, 58, and 59, while I shot something like a 63. On the front, I had been very pleased with how I was hitting the irons, considering they were blades - I was making solid contact on probably 90% of my shots - the distances was short (and I never did figure out what club to use when I was within 100 yards), but I was playing very consistently.
So for the two hackers, Cal could crush the ball - when he made solid contact. He's one of those guys with those short backswings, and who "punches" the ball, but somehow, he can crush it. Probably his lanky frame helping him out, even though he was playing with clubs that looked like they were a couple inches too short for him. Now I have no about James golf history, but he had nice irons (Callaway X-12s). He seems like a baseball player - very wide stance on the drive, with the ball teed right in the middle, and he's very hunched over. There was a part of me who wanted to give him advice, but I didn't want to be "that guy." I did mention to him that I didn't understand how he hit hunched over so much, and on a later hole he said that helped him - he hadn't changed his stance, but now he was extending his arms fully at address, rather than holding them in towards his body. To picture how scrunched over he was, I'd guess that the angle between the ground and the driver shaft was 35 degrees. He also had a the tendency of trying to kill the ball - when he tried to slow his swing down he hit pretty well. But when he swung normally, he was like a baseball player, taking that little left foot step, and really pivoting his whole body around with only a modicum of control. *shrugs*
Anyway, way too much babbling . . . I'm going to get another cup of tea and then continue my drive to Montana . . .
