Not for Women

Dear Jim:

So when God was putting the finishing touches on the Universe he called together his planning team.  “ Everything seems to be settled but I would like  suggestions on how I  would be able  to mess with Men as a form of  amusement when I become bored.”

“How about playing golf with your Spouse”? was suggested by one of the nastier members of the group.”

Here is a way to cause mind numbing pain and internal panic while crushing the ability to speak in coherent sentences. All in a way  that wouldn’t be visible to the Spouse. What a perfect way to take people who look happy and normal on the outside and mess with them.

“I like it, said God!”

“What about those  really annoying do-gooder types that are always talking about how much they like playing with their Spouses.”?

“They may be beyond my reach as they clearly are defective in a fundamental way. Perhaps we could work on quality control in the Sperm and Egg department and try and weed these misfits out right from the get go.”

Or we can let them escalate to a game with two Spouses and two  Men. If that doesn’t do it we will just  activate the “Bozo” chip and remove them from the mainstream.   People will feel sorry for them.

Why do I bring this up? Well one safety tip I have for you as you start to work less is to never come home before 5pm…even if you have nothing to do. Take a couple of extra circuits around the shopping mall to kill time or whatever but don’t come home early. I made that mistake today.

“Lets go and play 9 holes this afternoon”. “Oh Goody, Goody says I and off we go”.

Today Sally decides she is going to test-drive the Power Kaddy which all of her friends swear by and she has been bugging me to get one. This means she can walk and not have to worry about pushing the cart.

I didn’t ask any questions and I assumed everything was going well although on the first hole I didn’t see what she was doing as I was off to the left hitting 5 different trees with 5 separate shots. This isn’t as easy to do as you might think. I should have put some attention to the instructions.

A little known fact is that the Power Kiddy has a top speed of 8 km/hour if you press the “go” button and let go of the handle.

Sally’s top running speed is 7.9km/hr.

I know this because on the par 5 second hole the cart suddenly took off with Sally in hot pursuit.  I have never seen her run like that. It was an Olympian performance. Nearly 600 yards further up the fairway  the cart finally hit a sand trap near the green and tipped over with the wheels continuing to spin. I continued to play the hole (had a bogey) and I finally arrived to find Sally in a bath of perspiration gasping for air.

Here’s where my big mouth  got me in trouble.

I said “I’m going to have to give you a maximum on this hole because  your initial drive is back  there about 450 yards and you never hit it a second time.”

“What the heck were you thinking?”

Well actually I’m thinking it is a real shame that I don’t have my phone with me because if I had recorded that chase it would be going viral by now.

And I’m also thinking it may have appeared reckless for me to keep playing while the chase was on but the two four woods that I hit were certainly high enough to clear Sally by a good three feet or more. 

A real bonus is that I’m not going to have to spend $1600 on a Power Kaddy although treatment for Sally’s pysio therapy may come to the same thing.

I wasn’t going to waste my great drive on that hole to go running down the fairway!

My thinking apparently was not appreciated as much as I would have thought.

Our 9 holes now became 6 holes and a little over an hour after teeing off we were in the car heading home. It is amazing how quickly you play when there is no conversation to slow you down.

It is clear I’m not good at this Spousal Golf stuff and women in general.  I’m leafing my way through the Quran where I hear there are a lot of good tips on how to handle women. Hopefully there will be a section on Golfing. I will let you know if something turns up.

Bill Meder

A little late but here we go

Dear Jim:

Well, I have been getting so much flack from everyone for not writing you for some time I figured I better get at it.

I haven’t written for a while as I have had to swear to people I’m golfing with that I won’t write a letter about our game since people might figure out who they are and they might get embarrassed.

I’ve saved up some beauties and when you do my Eulogy you will be given the secret writings to pass on at the Ceremony if anyone is there.

I have not been active on the Golf front as I screwed up my back 5 weeks ago.  I would like to tell you I threw it out while Cliff diving in my new Batman suit but actually it was less dramatic than that.

 I was sitting on the floor and decided to move forward 3 inches. In doing so I initiated a firing up of the entire spinal system and ligaments designed to motor this old body through anything that pops up. As dumb as this system is through poor design and maintenance I  brought forth a twisting knife blade sensation in the lower back that knocked me over.

I crawled upstairs on my hands and knees and after a lot of mind-altering drugs

( some of which I have become very fond of) I was able to sit up and watch TV.  Whoever was responsible for designing the Back System way back when is definitely living in Hell forever and deservedly so.

This is now 5 weeks later and I have just begun the Golf season.

So last weekend off I go with my dear wife ,Sally to play 9 holes on the Dixie course, which is for kids, and over 80’s driving special carts.

After the second hole she decided to give me advice, which I’m always looking forward to both on and off the course. 

“I think the trick is to hit the ball as few times as possible” she offered.

Well wholly molly who knew?

 Clearly that $25,000 for lessons did not go to waste.  I countered that this was a good idea and I would do my best.

The little morsels of wisdom kept coming for 9 holes. Since she now outdrives me and usually has a lower score than me I didn’t think I could say much.

So no more 9 holers for me. I’m busy if asked.

Yesterday was a return to Couples Golf, which I am particularly excited about as a uniquely  mind numbing activity. I don’t know why I find it the way I find it. Perhaps it’s the conversation during the round. You can't help thinking..Where is Johnny Miller when we need him?

The putt is 15 feet short of the hole.

Player A says “That’s Short”

Player B says, “You have to hit it”

Player C says, “This is a tough hole

I’m thinking, “just shoot me now”

On to the next Tee

Player A says, “I hooked it”

Player B says, “It went left”

Player C says, “It will play from there”

I’m thinking, “There is no way I’m going in to the bush to look for that ball…I’ll just hang back here a bit.”

Putts that are close are met with OOOOO’s and AHHHHH’s and if you close your eyes you would swear you were at  a performance of Swan Lake at Place Des Arts.

Putts that are looking to cause a 7,8 or 9 on the card are quickly given with the backhand swat of the putter…”That’s Good”

After a few hours of this  I look at my scorecard and realize we still have 5 holes to go. Will this never end?  I love a 5-hour round. So many more opportunities to enjoy the sun set.

There is a special clock for Couples golf. Each hour gets you a debit of 90 minutes on your life clock so you want to keep this activity to a minimum. And if it seems like you have been playing forever…you have!

I always enjoy finishing up with the 20 minute shower.  After being in the hot summer afternoon it takes steel wool and a wire brush to get the 60 SPF sun tan lotion off.  I can then get all dressed up in my three best things,  that I carried lovingly from the trunk of my car on hangers with socks and undies stuffed in the pockets and proceed to dinner.  There I see the same Couples that have been  there every Sunday since 1986. Tradition….its a wonderful thing.

Now don’t get me wrong. The Couples we play with are great fun to be with and we have a great time. If there were no golf involved it would be a perfect outing.

Next week I join my regular group and I’m going to be ready to work hard to improve my game to the same level it was last year. I need to go from “Bloody awful “to “I hate this game”. I think I can do it.

Now, I have just finished the book "The Miracle at Augusta".

Each time the hero tees it up he says to the group.

“No Gimmies,

No Mulligans,

No Bull Shit

Lets play Golf!”

This will be my opening-rallying cry going forward even though it will add 5 strokes a round to the score. Has a nice ring to it.

Barbados..a Learning experience

Dear Jim:  A Barbados learning moment.

Well, after several years Sally and I decided to go back to Barbados for a winter break. 

The Shopping has become like something out of Rodeo Drive. A big fancy Designer Label shopping center has miraculously appeared next to several tin shacks and a goat.

You know I have little interest in any shopping venue and have even less on an Island holiday. I have everything I need until The End and with the odd thing I do buy I say "this will be the last one of these I'll ever have to buy".

 Sally loves it though and operates on autopilot whenever a cash register appears. 

I thought words like Precious, Adorable, Cute, Gorgeous and Wonderful applied to Grandchildren. Who knew? 

Apparently this is the new vocabulary for the latest fashions from Italy. At any rate, thank goodness we brought big half empty suitcases.

We were persuaded to stay on the St Lawrence Gap side of the Island where Poor People usually holiday. It was actually a good choice and although the Beach was terrible, the waves too rough, as were many of the guests, we quite liked it and will be happy to recommend it to acquaintances. 

We rented a car to go up to our usual hunting grounds on the West Coast for one day. I had forgotten driving in Barbados on little narrow roads and the thrill of seeing the big wide buses.

Now when I was drinking and driving in Barbados I used to close my eyes when a bus was coming at me from the opposite direction and hope that the blow would be a glancing one. Driving under the influence was not only allowed it was encouraged to give confidence to the tourists so they would go out for Dinner at night.

Now that I’m not drinking I can see the impending terror much clearer.  In addition to the cars and trucks barrelling down on you the Pedestrians are 6 deep on both sides of the road.  The guy in charge of building sidewalks hasn't been appointed yet. In the event someone made a mistake and built a little piece of sidewalk a car is typically sitting on it forcing the pedestrians even further in to the street.

Frankly I think the whole thing is a not so  subtle means of population control. No lights on the road, a bunch of crosswalks and Natives wearing all dark clothes. Along comes some Goofball used to driving on the right side of a 4 lane highway at home.  He is driving on the wrong side of the road under duress, staring in to oncoming headlights on a bright setting, windshield wipers flapping away and a passenger screaming for her Mommy. What could go wrong?

So on this rainy Wednesday night I was on my game.

I don’t think I killed anyone! 

 There was a lot of banging and strange noises along with the occasional scream. The two purses that were wrapped around my side mirrors were inexpensive and not worth trying to find the owners so I don’t know if there was any personal  damage there. A wool tuque was wedged under the front bumper but that could have been from a previous renter.

At any rate I got the car back sort of in one piece and vowed that this was my last drive in Barbados. A couple of Ativan and some hot and cold compresses got my blood pressure under 160 by noon the next day.

Our hotel was great but the beach wasn’t very swimmer friendly. The surf was very high and the undertow was quite strong. 

Sally went in to the water and then tried to come out. As I stood there watching I couldn't help worrying.  She was going to lose those $500 sun glasses if she wasn’t careful!

Each time she tried to stand up and walk out a wave would pound in and knock her around. I haven’t seen somersaults like that since we were in Gym class together as teenagers. After about 4 tries she was starting to lose her strength and was only able to get to one knee before the next wave whacked her. Being out of breath, she wasn't able to communicate with me and it was too noisy anyway to try and carry on a conversation.

Now just as  I’m thinking, this is going to be hard to explain to the Family,  a rather large Woman/Man type Brit jumped in to the surf and grabbed her by both hands and pulled her out. I would have thanked her but she gave me a very unfriendly look and appeared quite threatening to me  so I left the scene quickly.

If I had been thinking I could have taken a picture with my Iphone so I could show her how she looked after the final wave.

Sally was pretty good about it and even waited until dinner to ask me why I hadn’t jumped in to help her. I had all kinds of excuses about being a delicate guy and the coral and sand would have played havoc with my bare feet and I didn't want to hurt my arm in case I decided to go golfing ever again.

 I think  its possible I may have lost a few points here but the cuts and scrapes should heal without scars and I’m sure all will be forgotten in a week or two.

So here is my safety tip if you go to Barbados. If your partner wants to go swimming in rough seas with a strong undertow it is probably a good time to go to your room and change your bathing suit and do a few emails. This will ensure that you won’t be critiqued by your partner or a bunch of do-gooders who will feel obliged to jump in and help. 

It is truly amazing how many life lessons like this I have been able to pass on to you over the years. I hope you appreciate and learn from them!

 

Regards,

Bill Meder