Free at Last

"Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty I’m free at last."

Many people think Martin Luther King created this statement. In fact his writers stole it from golfers, with handicaps of 18 or more, who scream this refrain as they clean out their lockers at the end of every season.

I peaked mid July when I pared two holes in a row for the first time in two years. From there each game became worse than the last and I was able to add 3 strokes to my handicap. I won’t tell you what it is as the season comes to an end  but most millennials don’t get married until they reach this age.

I tried a few new things and learned a bit as well.

A big innovation for me was to equip my clubs with a tracking system attached to my IPHONE that gave me the distance of every club in the bag and averaged the results over the past 40 games.

The results were very interesting.

My Driver, 4 wood, 5 wood, 7 wood, 4 hybrid, and 6 hybrid all go 171-173 yards on average.

My Pitching wedge, Sand wedge, Gap Wedge and Lob wedge all go 60-62 yards.

My 7 iron and 9 iron both go 130 yards and my 8 iron didn’t register because most of the shots I hit with it went in the water.

So the take home from this effort is to stop using the system. I am removing all hardware and software and next year will carry 4 clubs. No bag and no cart, just carry them loose in my hand. Very easy and much less expensive than cart rentals.

I bought 4 dozen golf balls at the beginning  of the season and only lost 1. Not counting the 47 that I put in the water. I couldn’t hit it far enough to lose sight of and always saw where it landed and ended up resting after I hit it regardless of the club. So next year I’m going to buy 1 good ball and a few dozen from Costco for water holes.

I used to start counting down the holes left to play around number 13. This year I was quietly hoping someone would hurt themselves after 9 so we could quit then. Next year we can use our phones for texting and such and hopefully that will provide entertainment during the last few holes.

Jim, if any of your friends who are not golfers are reading this, here is a safety tip. If anyone pretending to be your friend suggests that you take up the game you need to terminate that friendship immediately. They are trying to make you miserable for a significant portion of your remaining life, and can’t be trusted!

At any rate, I’m looking forward to next spring to see if I’m alive, and if so will I ever break 90 again.

Have a great winter in Florida. Sorry you have to continue golfing.

 

Regards,

Bill 

(514) 992-2916

The long days of Summer

Dear Jim: The long days of summer.

All winter long people were screaming about how great it would be when summer comes.

Since I live indoors, winter has never bothered me. In fact since there is nothing to do except watch Netflix by the hour and maybe read a book and catch a snooze in front of the fireplace I find I enjoy a perfectly relaxed life from November to May.

So here I find myself hopping from foot to foot as I deal with the guilt and stress of not maximizing every bloody hour of every half decent day.

The Sun might be coming out.

Have to play golf. I’ll try and book for a time that has rain forecasted so it might get cancelled. Or we can quit if it starts to rain.

Get the bikes ready. Now I have to go on a bike ride. Pick a time with no traffic….say 5.30 am. Oh goody goody. Have to do it. Been waiting all winter for this.

There are dandelions in the front lawn..get the speedy weedy and start working.

 And what about the grass in the Pavi-Unis and while you are at it we need a new hose and go Canadian Tire and get all these tools and stuff you can’t even pronounce for home maintenance. The clerks are getting very familiar. (One asked me out for dinner).

All those flowers need water. EVERY day and sometimes twice a day. Shouldn’t take more that 45 minutes to handle and don’t forget to roll up the two 100 foot hoses when you are done. And hurry up because we have to rip them all out in a couple of months and we need to enjoy every minute.

Who are all those people. Spraying for spiders, then a new team for wasps and then another group for grubs lets get that fertilizer spread quickly and then the window washer and lets not forget the army of gardeners’. Do they have to be here every day…who knew?

And get the umbrellas up and get them down the wind is increasing. And bring those 29 cushions in the house. It’s going to rain. Now get them out the deck looks terrible.

Sweep the garage and power hose everything in sight. Keep going…you won’t be deaf from the noise of that machine.

You aren’t using the pool often enough! Get the temperature up to 85 degrees F and I will consider it. I don’t like being wet. You have to swim. It’s good for you.

Can I watch TV now? Nope the sun is still out. Go for a walk. I don’t like walking. Do I have to log 3 or 4 miles every day? .

Stop sitting around and get outside. Its lovely.

And on it goes. My instruction buffers are overflowing.

I have to say that between the guilt of not doing everything available in the summer and the stress of taking a brief break to do nothing, summer sucks!

Lets hope for snow in November.

Bill Meder

Billmeder.blogspot.com

I've Got It!!

Who knew that it would take 30+ years before I could say, “ I’ve got it”.

This week I played and everything you would want to be right was fantastic. Every shot was long and straight. Every club in the bag was flawless, smooth and crisp. Chipping was worthy of filming if anyone had been around and putting? Forget the 3-putt and call me mister 1 putt!!

Now I did quit after 11 holes because it looked like it might rain so I can’ t say what a fantastic score I would have achieved. Didn’t matter.

Now I know how it feels. I know how to address the ball and initiate that beautiful full swing.  Don’t worry about giving me any short putts..there won’t be any…the first putt will be in the hole!

Wholly Molly I am excited.

Going forward the cry “Golf is my Life” will be on my lips every day.

Now I promise I  am not going to insult you by having some cliché OOPS moment next time out and crying boo- hoo it is all over. No way. This is real and permanent.

I’ve got it and it is here to stay! 

I feel so good I can barely stand it.

I will keep you posted.

Bill Meder

Rats, here we go again.

Yesterday it was 12 C, the wind was blowing and it was raining. I decided to go to the Golf Club to drop off my new clubs, load my locker with clothes and money for losing bets. Make everything pretty for the upcoming season.

When I arrived I was astounded to see that there were no parking spots available. First time I have ever seen this in 35 years.

I looked at the warm-up area and they were lined two deep waiting for a spot to hit balls. I went in to the pro shop and discovered that the course was fully booked!

Meanwhile there was a steady stream of people heading over to the 9-hole Dixie course and a mob practicing putting.

My first thought was “does all that cement in their heads make their neck muscles sore?”

I am obviously entering the final days of my life because I couldn’t have golfed yesterday if Jack Nicklaus had asked me to play a few holes with him.

I was miserable having lunch because it was so cold in the dining room.

And adding even more mystery to the scene…many players had just returned from playing golf all winter in Florida. I don’t get it. Do golfers lose their minds over the winter?

I am almost sorry the winter is over because I’m going to be on a constant guilt trip for the next 5 months for not playing golf every day the sun comes out.

Thank goodness it is pouring rain today so it isn’t even possible to drive out to the club and I can sit in front of the fire, semi-conscious for the entire day and night, binge watching Netflix.

At any rate, I’m all-good to go for this new season . I have new everything and more golf clothes and accessories than any sane person would have in their inventory. All I need is to find some desire to get going. 

It seems like such a hassle. Driving all the way out there. Getting covered in greasy sunblock, whacking balls to “warm up” and then stumbling around for 4 hours with the bugs etc and don’t get me talking about practicing.

Who wants to do that?  My sessions last 10-12 minutes and then I’m bored. Not a good reward for all the start-up and shut down required going out there.

As I'm running out the clock I wonder how this all ends. Last Night we went to the Annual meeting and dinner. 

I have been a member for 35 years. Out of our current roster of 1600 members, I now can say for sure that I know 35 of them!

Although "know" is a strong word. I can recall  first names for at least one member of most of the  couples and I  nod at many others while moving quickly through the crowd without stopping to have a conversation. Eventually, I am going to suggest we wear name tags.

I know this sounds quite negative and so you wonder why I don’t just quit and be done with it?

I can’t give it up …it’s my best sport and I can't find anything else to fill a whole day with mindless effort.

At any rate I am sure the desire will ignite any minute now and I will be all excited to play. At least for the first 5 or 6 holes.

I will follow up with you when the anti-depressants kick in.

Regards.

Bill Meder

Downhill!!

Dear Jim:

You remember that Mercedes Sports Car I had for all those years. I loved that car and when I sold it last year I was sorry to see it go. It still looked perfect and drove beautifully. Unfortunately, things kept breaking down which cost a fortune to fix. Eventually I had to throw in the towel and say fixing this old beauty isn’t worth it anymore. 

Well that describes me!

My teeth, (the ones still standing) are in great shape but my gums have to be rebuilt from the ground up. One tooth that I have lost is being replaced with an implant. When I’m finished this will become a line item on my list of assets and my executors will be able to answer the question of where all my money went.

My eyes work well but the eyelids are not worth a damn. For $1000 a  year, I can have a procedure that ensures I can cry like a baby if I‘m watching a sad movie. Drops twice a day, warm compress every morning and night for the rest of my short remaining life.  And eat Tuna twice a week, mercury blood level monitoring will begin in 6 months!  Hell, my calendar has more personal maintenance items on it than meetings.

As I looked in the mirror this morning the scar under my left eye is healing nicely, the stiches in my mouth were just removed and the swelling seems to be going down. My left eye is half closed and the right one is red and watering like a tap. So from the neck up...not so good. 

As for the out of sight bits, my hearing is good (at least that is what I think he said) and I can still walk and chew gum at the same time. 

Every doctor I see refers me to a specialist of some kind who then sends me off for more appointment and tests. No one reads them, and most of the time we can’t find the results, which gives me more things to follow up and do. I feel that our Health Minister should have me on his staff as I’m spending more time managing his Doctors than he does. And if I hear “what do you expect at your age one more time “someone is going to get hurt. 

I often wondered how I would fill the days when I retired. No problem there. I’m working 60 hours a week on me.

And if I do have time to do something, nothing I attempt is simple. Yesterday I had Bell here to install Fibe TV. Two guys and a truck arrived and we did a walk around the house. Every sentence (with Bell you get to practice your French) began with …Where does that wire go?  Well I don’t know if that will work…or maybe we could do….or what’s that?...and where is your power-mesh backup tweeter and the best of all …we won’t know if it works until we are finished and if it doesn’t we can staple a wire along the floor boards and connect direct.

I said.” Here let me help you with your tool kit and make sure your ladder is well attached to the roof of your truck” Bye Bye.

So that’s the end of Fibe TV. 

Finally, in golf there are two fabulous days that I always look forward to. The first day of the season when I race out to the club with my new wonderful clubs and gear and get set up. The best is the last day of the season when I bring all the crap back home and throw it into a dark place in the basement.  Six guilt free months not playing that stupid game.

Bill Meder

By the way there are over 50 letters I have sent to you at http://billmeder.blogspot.ca

Everything is headed in the same direction!

Dear Jim:

Well it has taken 36 years but my handicap is now the same as it was in 1981.   Thousands spent on lessons, golf weeks and countless hours of practicing.  Almost 2500 rounds of golf, 12,000 hours of hitting and walking  in a mindless Groundhog Day kind of routine. What a completely useless waste of a life. Name me one other passive sport where you end up as you began. The only difference between then and now is that now there is no hope for the future. Tomorrow I play with Sally and she has to give ME strokes…yikes the humiliation of it all.

And if that wasn’t bad enough I continue to achieve new milestones in a sport that shows no mercy regardless of age or commitment. In a tournament last weekend I hit a shot that I have never done before. I stood in front of my ball in a sand trap, my favorite shot by the way, and took my normal, guaranteed out of the trap, swing. I looked on to the green but no ball.

WTF, I said to myself.

I looked down and there was the mark I had made in the sand… 4 inches closer to me than the ball. 

Didn’t think that would be possible but hang on. I did it three times in three different traps!

Hasn’t happened since. Is my brain being manipulated by some higher power that is just screwing with me or are circuits just burned out and misfiring?…who knows.

I had the pro shop install one of those big putter grips on my trusty Scotty Cameron that has served me well. People say they love the feel of the big grip and it is true. I loved the feel also and enjoyed standing around the green holding on to it.

The one problem they failed to mention is that with that grip you cannot transmit the command down to the blade to put the ball into the hole.

During our tournament I missed 6 short putts that all would have counted. They weren’t even close. My teammates had expressions on their face like you would at the beginning of your colonoscopy.

 I can’t do speed or direction.

Final putt for birdie on 17 Blue…6 feet. Hit the ball 4 feet…just barely made the remaining 2 footer as it circled the cup twice before falling in. Fat grip bites the dust today and I asked the pro shop to have it cremated to ensure no bad Karma remains.  I hope my new Scotty Cameron grip is forgiving and I apologized to it for having put it through these changes.

And finally, I played with someone for the first time on Tuesday. Front nine..45. Ok, respectable and not unpleasant to watch.

Second nine. 57.

You laugh…it’s not funny. It is impossible to do that. I called “Ripley’s believe it or not” to see if it has ever happened. Nope!

So how did that happen? you ask .

 Well I started on the 10^th and went 7,7,7, and the only reason I took 6 on the next hole was because it was a par 3. For the next holes I then went water, water, water and finally two in the water on 17, a short par 3. I have no recollection of the 18^th

We didn’t have a drink after the round (he was in a hurry to get away) and he didn’t say, “that was fun, lets do it again some time”.

I am going to have to wear a disguise next time out.

And finally, Sally went off to LA to visit and left me in charge of the house for the week. She will be home in a few hours and hopefully by then the gardeners will have replaced all the dead plants.  I did promise to water every day but surely not every one of them needs it every day. And who knew a plant could drown?

There are a lot of inefficiencies in running this place. I started off not making the bed which makes sense, then not opening the curtains in the morning, or hanging up my clothes at the end of the day or putting anything away that I might need later. It wouldn’t look good on a snap inspection but hey, when you are all alone nobody knows that you are living like a slob.

I only ran the dishwasher once. You don’t need fancy plates for most food and knives and forks are highly overrated for many foods.

At any rate you get the picture. If Sally wasn’t coming home today the house would be on the market by mid next week and advertised as a fixer upper.

Talk soon

Bill Meder

We was Robbed!

Dear Jim: We was Robbed!

So after making a dinner reservation for 6.45 pm at a well known Biker/Mafia hangout we left our house at 6.25 leaving a car in the driveway and all the lights in the house on. First time we have left our house during the week at dinnertime in a year.

According to our neighbor’s cameras, at 6.31 four goofballs pulled up to our driveway and jockeyed back and forth looking for our house which is down a long driveway. They smashed a door and welcomed themselves in to our house.

After a lovely evening,  at 8.50 pm I asked for the bill at the restaurant. Turns out, the thieves left at 8.51pm!!

Now although that seems like a long time to spend in the house they were very neat and didn’t break anything. Every room, every drawer etc was cleaned out. I didn’t see any evidence that they had dinner but clearly they had the time. They did open a case of wine in my cellar but possibly didn’t think the vintage was up to par as they didn’t take any of it.

Now you are asking yourself, as did the Police and the Insurance company, what about the alarm?

Yes, I was proud to say, “ I do have an alarm system”. It was installed in 1970. With a little further probing it was confirmed that I had last armed it on October 3, 1987.

I was unable to find it to show them how great it was but did point out that there are motion detectors on a couple of walls . (I have discovered since that they are collector items). I called the alarm company and they asked me for my code. “You need a code?”

At any rate I haven’t had a break-in for 30 years and we seldom left the house for more than a few hours at a time. Why would I be arming an alarm? Doesn’t make sense to me.

 Neither the Police, the Insurance Company or any of my smart-assed friends were impressed with my Alarm protocol and the gloating was irritating.  “Oh, I arm my alarm when I take out the garbage or go to the end of the driveway to get the paper”….yeah, right.

The police, led by inspector Clouseau arrived promptly at 9.15 with 6 patrol cars and 9 or so officers. Four of them stayed until 6am the next morning and they finger printed every surface in the house. You may not know this but  the dust they use is black and they are not as neat as the thieves. The contrast with our white house was quite striking and I’m sorry I didn’t take pictures.

I did comment to a few of the officers  that when I was 7 years old I watched a robbery movie and they couldn’t find the finger prints because the crooks wore GLOVES!. ( My window repair guy speculated that the Police had nothing else to do and liked being at my house so just processed the crime scene until their shift was over at 6am.)

As we stood in the family room where they had broken a glass sliding door to come in, Inspector Clouseau says, “This is where they left from”. My Brother-in-Law who was staying with us and is probably not on anybody’s top 100 list for detective-trainee candidate, says, “ If that is how they left, why is all the glass in the family room?” After a long delay Inspector Clouseau turns and says, “ You make a good point”.

So now we take inventory of what is missing.

 I’m saying I never liked all that Silver anyway as it gave off a glare when we took family pictures. Apparently we had some nice stuff that I hadn’t noticed. The good news is we can’t host the family Easter dinner because we no longer have any silver place settings or gravy bowls. If we don’t replace all this stuff, no more family events. How lucky can you get?

I told Sally, that less Jewelry was keeping with the times and now she didn’t have to make any decisions. She can wear what she wore that night (the eve of our 50^th wedding anniversary) or nothing. Sure simplifies things.  She didn’t seem impressed when I told her that someone with more than one watch never knows the real time.

The Bastards stole my two Centennial Golf trophies and a sliver tray I won for Sailing.

I told Inspector Clouseau to be on the look out for someone swarthy looking, with a southern European accent, showing off his golfing accomplishments at some drug bust or bragging about lifting a hull in a Catamaran. (Wait till they find out what golfing skills you need to win this thing!) I immediately called the Golf Club and they told me I could replace the Centennial winning cups for $203 each! My first purchase when I get the insurance money.

So the adventure is over. The team that provides security for the White House is now outfitting my house. We won’t be able to have anyone over because they won’t be able to get within 50 feet of the house. I know the horse has left the barn but hey..want to talk about home security? I’m now the world’s foremost authority on the subject.

My gun training begins next week and I  chose a weapon with a personal grip sensor so that Sally can’t accidentally fire it. Safety (mine) first.

Inspector Clouseau confirmed to me this morning that we will never get our stuff back, the crooks  won’t be back because they know we don’t have any more stuff, and when the police catch them they will get a few months in Prison to rest up and get back to work with their friends soon. The next time I go to that restaurant I’m only going to tip 15% to make a statement. They will get the message.

 The 300 pictures and finger prints the Police took along with my beautifully crafted statement  are on file and Inspector Clouseau confirmed that no one will look at any of it…ever.

I will keep you posted.

Bill Meder