The End is Nigh

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Skip Raking, Go Golfing!




I was well along in writing a new post that was a look at why humans tend to move to and live in places that are not really meant for humans. You know, places that are built in a swamp and regularly battered by hurricanes like, say, Ft Myers, FL. Or in a desert, for example, like Las Vegas or Phoenix. Included were thoughts on our selfish destruction of the environment for our fellow creatures like butterflies. But something much more serious and important has come up that I had to acknowledge and write about. The end of the golf season.

I know what you’re thinking. “What?! Golf is more important and serious than hurricanes and deserts and stuff?” Sorry, that is a question only a Minnesota non-golfer could ask and the answer, of course, is yes. 

Anyway. The season is winding down as it always must up here on the tundra. Oh, there will still be some days where you will see silly golfers out there in 40 degree weather in shorts and windbreaker pretending they are enjoying freezing off important parts of their bodies. (And don’t up and go stereotyping, it’s not all men, only 98%.) I have to admit there was a time (a long time ago - over 3 years actually) when I might have been one of them but now in my dotage, I have come to my senses and will NOT join that foolish band. No sir, it has to be at least 45 degrees AND less than 20mph wind – a man has to have standards! (Well in golf anyway.) Nonetheless, the end is coming.


A me lookalike enjoying a fall round

Weather this season has been splendid even if partially brought by drought conditions. Droughts are obviously difficult for the golf industry - do you know how much it costs to keep watering a 180 acre golf course?! And my greatest fear was that the powers that be would try to divert water to silly things like crops and people’s yards and showers. Thank the God of Golf, Lord Doubleeagle, they didn’t have to. But dry conditions are otherwise a boon to golfers (many of whom are “fair weather golfers” like most of my friends) and it has been a fine season.

Many people ("Normals" as we golfers call them) seem to have a problem understanding what it is about the game that attracts us. For example, many studies have shown that golfers are among the most brilliant, talented, highly educated and often the most handsome people around.(With a certain ex-Presient being the exception that proves the rule)Yet, they say, we become addicted to a game that turns us into brain addled Gombies (or Golf zombies.) Delusional individuals who spend an enormous amount of money and time just to be constantly beaten to a pulp by the game - and within 24 hours are convinced that the beating was an abberation and they will soon be breaking par. Well, ha, the joke is on the Normals! There is a great Garth Brooks song called “Standing Outside the Fire” the chorus of which is “life is not tried it is merely survived if you’re standing outside the fire.” It’s about people who never take a chance and just trudge through life, happy and content with their nice home and families, sanity and money. Not golfers! No,ma’m, we jump into that blazing dumpster fire that is golf several times a week – and . . . well, it hurts,yes, but there’s always another tee time tomorrow. I choose to lovingly describe the game as a “Trifecta of Fertilizer”: expensive, time consuming, and frustrating. (Fertilizer isn’t actually the word I use but this is family blog post.)

The Agony . . .



 . . . And the Ecstacy

Also, Mrs Dear Leader is endlessly fascinated by my ability to link absolutely any everyday occurrence to golf. “Dear, I got a raise!” Which I could describe as “Dear, It’s like I had two birdies today!” Or, “The neighbors house caught on fire.” Which I could say is just like “Oh no, got rearended and wrecked the clubs!” Yes, golf really is a metaphor, analogy and simile for life. 

Golf also has all the important human conditions: anger, frustration, depression, resentment, resignation – and occasional euphoria. She’s so impressed that she often just shakes her head in wonder at my brilliant insights.

So now to end with one of those figures of speech, let us just say that as the days grow shorter, the number of tee times also grow fewer. Not unlike the days of our life left to jump in the fire (or something like that.) So be sure to get your tee times while you can, you never know which one will be your last. (Although I have played in Jan in MN so I don’t exactly know what that means in our metaphor. Resuscitation maybe?)

Anyway, true story: Bing Crosby was an absolute golf fanatic. In October, 1977, he walked off a golf course in Spain AFTER a round – and dropped dead on the spot, heart attack. I know what you’re thinking, perfect way to go, right? Sadly, no, he didn’t sign his score card so he was disqualified from the tournament. See, golf really is like life – not always fair.

Well, I gotta go, I’m playing tomorrow so I need to charge the battery for the electric golf vest that my golf caddy daughter gave me and the electric gloves that Mrs Dear Leader gave me (foolishly thinking I would use them for something stupid like shoveling snow.)

A Younger Dumber Guy


Okay, Still Kinda Dumb




Anyway happy fall. Bundle up and get another round in before it’s too late.

FORE!

PS

Coming soon, a new post on more human foibles. 


Music to sooth the golfers soul:

Dougle Bogey Blues (Really blue this time of the year!)


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