Letters to Jim: How bad can it get?

Dear Jim:

So how bad can it be you ask.

On Saturday one of my golf buddies accused me of trying to artificially raise my handicap so I can be competitive in the Centennial. He thinks my attitude when I’m about to take  a triple boggie suggests that I’m faking it. In addition to insulting me (I’m used to that) he questions my integrity!  First time in 60 years.  When you are getting ready to putt a 30 footer for a 7 on the easiest par 4 on the course is it reasonable to expect deep concentration and careful execution. I think not. Of course he never takes a triple because when he gets to a double he picks up the ball and heads to the next tee.

On Sunday we played couples golf with Rick and  Valerie Doyle on the condition that I sign a release promising them that I wouldn’t name them in a “Dear Jim” letter. Of course I promised. What choice did I have? He is worse than me if that is possible but I’m not allowed to comment on that.

We have four of us who play twice a week. One of the members, who will remain nameless (Glenn Rourke), hasn’t played with us since last September. He always calls in with a conflict. I hear he has played with most of the members of the Bag Shop and his next game is with a few locker room attendants. He insists he is still a  member of the group! He keeps asking for my travel schedule.

At the Centennial where we are all supposed to stay for dinner at a team table my group wants to get home early to watch the weekend version of Wheel of Fortune so I will be at a table for two. This black tie event in high heat and humidity with ear splitting music and 400 people in a room built to accommodate 250  has always been a favorite of mine and I look forward to next years dinner/dance as soon as the current one is over.

The good news is that it is going to rain all weekend.

See you at your daughter’s wedding on Saturday. I asked her if she could move it to next weekend because I wanted  to get a new weed whacker that is on sale this weekend only. She wasn’t amused.

By the way , as Master of Ceremonies,  your instructions of no bad language, no making fun of people, no insulting comments and 90 seconds to speak have been taken in to account. I’ve now got my comments down to a barn burning 30 minutes and there won’t be a dry eye in the house when I tell them the stories of our travels together in the 70’s.

Bill