Cooper Folk

I wanted to share a couple stories about fun and interesting people I've met at Cooper. There are many, many unique personalities that frequent the park, so I've singled out some of the more memorable here...

First was the cookie guy. Ran into him at hole 4 one day. He had a tupperware container full of cookies and offered one to my buddy and I, yum. Turns out that they were special cookies. About two hours after I ate the delicious treat I was in a semi-coma on my couch, unable to even form a response to my wife's questions when she came home from a hard day at work. Luckily, I came out of it a couple hours later with little permanent damage. Don't take cookies from strangers, kids!

Next was Radio. While we were preparing to drive on hole 4, this guy walked up with a small handheld radio and 2/3 of a disc. After a drive that I have to admit being impressed with, considering he was disc challenged, he explained to us that we have to walk up to the disc break a stick, put it where the disc landed, do a little dance, and then take your next shot. Whatever, guy. We told him where the next tee was and sent him on his way. Guess who was still there when we got there!

Not sure what happened, but his radio was now on the tee, baterries spilled out, as if it had been thrown to the ground. Judging by the short, creekside spot where he was looking for his disc, I'm guessing that the 2/3 disc didn't go as far as he'd wanted. So what happens next? My buddy steps up and nails an ace! BAM! How ya' like me now? Goin' on feelin' strong...

Last we saw of Radio, he was carrying nasty, Cooper sludge covered logs up the fareway on hole 6 and disappearing into the woods. Maybe looking for that other 1/3 fo his disc.

Lastly, I'll tell you about the lovely wood nymph we ran into at (you guessed it!) hole 4. She was lying under the big tree, while a small boy played nearby. We yelled up to them that we were going to be throwing our discs in there general direction and they might want to move slightly to one side. "Ah, whatever..." she replied. Luckily the pin was in the B position, so we could just play through without too much worry. As we were all walking up to our drives the wood nymph turned into a tootless, drunk old hag and yelled out, "Hey, you're a fucking faggot arncha!" What could I do, but agree and keep walking. She spat out a few more lovely greeting, took one last swig of her high gravity beer and through the can at my buddy. What a nice old lady! Sure wish I could have had that kind of home life growing up.

Now that I've finally added something to this blog, I'm hoping that the drought of Cooper Folk, spanning my last few outings, will end. I miss all the freaky people!