equipment | The Selvedge Yard

Listening to music properly has a lot to do with having the right environment. A place that’s all your own. I like the warm glow from the perfect level of indirect, low lighting. I want to be surrounded by my favorite things to look at. And I long for seating that you just melt into and disappear in. And another thing– I love my iPod as much as the next guy– but sometimes there are those moments when you need to break out the turntable and throw on some old records. The warm hiss and crackle of needle on vinyl is like hearing your mother’s voice in the womb. Which is what a man cave really is– a dark, personal, intimate womb.

When we first moved to New Jersey, we bought a great old Dutch Colonial home previously owned by an Italian family– the guy’s name was Nick. The basement he built-out was the clincher. It was like a retro 60s gentleman’s club– red and black lacquer paneled walls, mirrors, a full bar with turntable, and even a pool table which they were good enough to leave behind. I’ll never forget the two framed portraits hanging side by side behind the bar– The Pope & Frank Sinatra. Welcome to Jersey– I loved it. I spent many an evening down there with lights down low, the sound of billiard balls slamming hard into a corner pocket, always perfect tunes in the background, and a cold one. Now I’m in a house with no man cave and going insane…

Retro 1960s Hi Fi stereo equipment and mid century modern furniture– great old Tulip table.

Cozy retro man cave w/ Eames chair, animal hide rug, art, books & hi fi– Done.

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The beautiful weather today has me itching for a friendly round of golf (and refreshments) with a buddy– if only my game was good enough to keep me from embarrassing myself out there. I’ve got a crazy “baseball swing” for a drive– my short game is a little better, but not much.

I wonder (like the rest of us, surely) how Tiger Woods’ career would fare if he had a true master rival? Don’t get me wrong– Tiger is incredible, but he hasn’t really been tested against talent anywhere equal to his own. Not at all like the days of the Nicklaus/Palmer rivalry.

It was also a time when the sport had a lot more style and flair– the shirts fit actually fit like a shirt should, and smoking a butt on the course was no big deal. Arnold Palmer was easily the coolest cat on the green. His good looks and easy, devilish grin (matched with his skills) made him the one to watch.

Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus check their driver clubs before teeing off for a tie breaking playoff in the 1962 US Open-- Oakmont Country Club, Pennsylvania.

Coming into the 1962 U.S. Open at Oakmont, there was no doubt which player was the fan favorite. Arnold Palmer had won his third Masters the previous April and had notched 30 tournament titles over the previous seven years. In 1953, he was a mere 23-year-old amateur when he competed at Oakmont, but now he was the charismatic, go-for-broke swashbuckler. Palmer’s connection to the masses was remarkable. And the Open being played in his backyard created even more appeal. He was a western Pennsylvania native and Oakmont was this region’s signature championship layout.

Squinty-eyed Palmer had style, charm, looks and skill. Jack Nicklaus more than made up for his personality and presentation deficits with an amazing game and heart that became legendary, and is still unmatched to this day.

Jack Nicklaus was the anti-Palmer. Some people referred to him as “Fat Jack” because of the 22-year-old’s physique. But he arrived at his first Open as a professional with plenty of fire. The former Ohio State University All-American had won the 1959 and ’61 U.S. Amateur titles, and in between, he nearly took the 1960 U.S. Open, falling two strokes short of Palmer – although as play began at the ’62 Open Nicklaus was still searching for his first victory as a pro.

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