Imagine a man who looks like he doesn’t know what he is doing, but knows everything. This magnificent man is Pat Kramer. He is six feet two and is fairly skinny. He doesn’t talk much, but is a friendly person. His career is taking off a little slow. Right now he is working at a bar, but hopes some day to become a male model of stature. He talks in a monotone voice and rather deep. Pat is a very organized person; he doesn’t lay things off. If there is something to be done, he does it right away. The two things Pat values in his life are his women and his car.
I was in the weight room one day when I saw a man struggling to get the bar off his neck. I asked “Would you like some assistance?”
“Yes, please,” replied Pat quickly.
Pat was up there working on his physical fatigue. After I helped him get the weight off. We got into a long talk about our lives. We ended going out for some coffee. Not regular coffee, but the sweet, cold refreshing kind from Dairy Queen. As we sat inside there was a very rude fat man. He said, “If you don’t give me your coffee, I am going to eat you.”
Pat went over there and whispered something in his ear, and five seconds later the man was gone.
Since this day two years ago Pat and I have been best friends. So one day after Pat calls me and wants to go on a road trip.
I ask, “Where to?”
Pat thinks for a while and replies, “Northern Alaska.”
Then we pack Pat’s 1999 Mercury Mystique and head to Alaska to go salmon fishing. We just got across the border and the magical Mystique broke down. Pat was very angry at his marvelous automobile. We then went to Calgary on bus and bought a pack of sled dogs. This was the adventure we were waiting for. Once we got to the tip of Alaska, we traded our precious dogs for a boat. After three long months of traveling we were ready to fish. This was great, we were by ourselves catching abundant salmon.
After leaving this great state, we sold our salmon and had enough money to get home. We decided to get a car and travel down the west coast and go to all the finest golf courses. In our new Ford Explorer we went to Washington to play The Olympic Club. Pat, who had never played golf in his life, shot a 71, which was one under par. I shot a 70 and beat him. I won 1,000 dollars off Pat and left him in Washington for a couple weeks while I played the rest of the courses on the west coast.
On our way back to Yankton we had fun sitting and reminiscing about our exciting trip. Even though Pat stayed in a Motel in Washington for two weeks by himself, he said, “It was one of the fondest memories of my life.”
This old chap is one of my favorite people in the world. He might be imaginary, but he’s a fun guy to be around.