What I did last Thursday...

The sticks crackled under my feet as I walked under a tree next to the 13th hole. I had tried to hook it around the Tea Olive that guarded the front left of the green, but I quit on it and pushed it right. The sea-salted wind blew off the ocean like a hair dryer set on high.

EVEN IF I LOSE THIS HOLE, I’ll still be okay, I tell myself.

I knew differently. I had to get this one up and down. A three-up lead might not be enough, with all that was going on in my head. My opponent played poorly early, but now was mounting a charge. It had started to wear on me on the 12th, when my tee shot found the bunker. I flicked it on to the green and made par, but my hands were shaking the entire time. My golf swing had stopped working.

STAY IN THE PRESENT, I tell myself. Don’t think about anything but THIS shot.

The club championship was open to everyone. I won it last year, but the boss didn’t play. He hadn’t had a tough match, crushing his first four opponents. I had had nothing but difficulty, coming from two back with five to play in the second round and winning the last hole in the quarterfinals to advance.

And I needed to beat this guy to make it to the final to play the boss. STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT, I tell myself.

I decided to try to lob it up over the grassy patch that lay in front of me. If I hit it crisp, I could make it sit like it had a parachute attached to it. Anything else, I’d lose the hole. And maybe the match. Simple as that.

Panic was taking over my body. My pulse quickened as I made a couple of hurried practice stokes. CALM DOWN, I tell myself…CALM DOWN.

Somebody tell Bill Gates...

I have a rather simple cell phone, I’m told.

New phones now have all sorts of stuff added to them.

But, I’m not shelling out any cash until they get EVERYTHING in there.

People send emails from them, have music, GPS, web browsing, games, calculator, camera, and I’m sure some things I don’t know about. But I’m not biting yet. I’m holding out for:

- Universal remote for my TV and my stereo.
- Garage door opener.
- Keyless remote for my automobile.
- Baby monitor.
- Meat thermometer.

Just one remote for everything…I could do everything with this one “phone.”

Until I lose it.

The delicate balance of a healthy lifestyle...part one

When I first moved to the Dominican Republic, I played tennis a couple of days a week. I bought a racket and was really enjoying it. But, the friend I played with most of the time hurt his knee and we stopped playing for a bit, then we kind of forgot about it.

A couple of years later, I wasn’t playing tennis anymore, but I played basketball on Monday nights…just two of us, one on one for about an hour and a half. This was almost killing me…usually I was just happy to be alive afterward.

I played football (soccer) with the guys from the school a few times. I remember staring alot at the ground, trying to catch my breath.

I play a lot of golf, but that doesn’t count. The few times I have walked doesn’t count either. We play when we can and we are usually somewhat pressed for time. So we take a cart.

Last year, we started playing poker on Monday nights. No more basketball. No more tennis. Just drinking and gambling. Our poker host usually makes brautwurst or something equally unhealthy. The only exercise I get at poker is getting up to fix a drink or the calories I burn while sweating out a bluff.

And I never bluff…

If it were two weeks long, I'd want a piece of pumpkin pie...

It’s Holy Week here at Casa de Campo, which means we have extra security and the sane people are afraid to leave the house after dark, before lunch, during breakfast, or at any other time of the week.

There is no school, no work and no restraint. There is no law.

We went to the grocery store yesterday and won’t go again. Grace and John will not go for walks. We have to hide our golf cart in the backyard, if it is in the driveway someone will steal it.

People pay to play golf, then steal the cart for the week. Many of the stolen carts end up in the Caribbean Sea.

They steal range balls, clubs, trash cans, and anything else not nailed down.

They drive carts, SUV’s, four-wheelers, motor scooters, and motorcycles at break-neck speeds everywhere on the resort, including on the golf course. There will be tire tracks on a half dozen greens before the week is over. There will probably be a couple of self-induced speed-related deaths, if the average of the last four years holds true.

And to add to the chaos, I just got an email message that said the countries' pumpkin supply is tainted.

Halloween is more “holy” than this.

Do you have a minute?

My cell phone ran out of power yesterday while I was on the golf course and it kept beeping to signify a low battery.

This seems to hasten the running down of the battery, which it is warning me against. Seems counter-productive.

My computer does the same thing.

For life expectancy...we don't have this kind of warning...but if we did...

Pro: I’d know how much to save and spend (I’ve always thought those guys who died “penniless” must have known something) and I would be able to pro-rate the Lifetime Warranty on my Sears Craftsmen Tools to see if it was worth the extra cost.

You could spend your last days playing golf or fishing (well, not me) instead of doing your taxes or mowing the lawn.

Con: People would start asking you for your stuff and that would be a pain. You’d have to probably plan your own going away party and having people in your house would be a hassle and you’d know you couldn’t go trash their house or drink all their booze to get even.

So let’s skip the whole thing. Sorry to have wasted whatever time you have left reading this.

Things they don't tell you in college...

I retired from listening to new music around 1991. I just stopped being on the cutting edge, trying anything new. I’ve bought stuff produced later than that, but it is of the style consistent with what I already liked.

Before that, I listened to everything. Well, except country. I’ve begun to realize the irony in this.

(I’ve been listening to it to get ready for my career change. I’m up to thirty minutes at a stretch before I break down and cry. The one about the guy’s wife leaving him while their trailer was being repossessed during the tornado really gets to me. Today I'm going to try for 35 minutes.)

Anyway, one of the groups I liked in college was Erasure. I just liked the sound they produced, fast paced, and fun.

So last summer when they booked a concert here I got some tickets and we went.

Now either these gentlemen are very in touch with their feminine side or they are flaming homosexuals. I don’t care either way. The reason I say this is that one of them wore a pink jacket with a huge Marylin Monroe head on it. I guess that was what he grabbed from his closet when he came out of it. The other guy's attire was equally fancy.

And the music was not very good. They played none of the old stuff that I liked…in fact, through nine songs they hadn’t played anything I had ever heard in my life. It was like Frank Sinatra not singing “My Way” or “New York, New York” while wearing a Seguin gown and pearls on stage.

Well, kind of.

Roulette in the skies...

A few of us are planning a trip to the northern part of the island, to a place called Playa Grande. (I guess it’s a big beach.)

Anyway, my friend told me that is was a five hour drive. In this country, that’s a long way. And apparently the roads are a bit tough for the last hour or so. When someone here says the roads are tough…you may need AAA. And there is no AAA.

There are other options. There is an airline that flies around the island (here to Punta Cana and here to Playa Grande) for $25 per trip. The plane seats about 10 people and luggage. There is no beverage service or in-flight movie. It’s just some guy with a plane.

Now I love a bargain, but this is a bit too cheap. For $25, I can’t imagine something like a leaky valve or a missing wing would cause them to cancel the trip. And if the plane did go into a tailspin and everyone was screaming because we were about to crash, I can just imagine the pilot turning to the passengers and saying…

“What did you expect for $25?”

I'm more than just a pretty face...

A friend of mine has a blog called Stupid Scholar. It is anything but. It varies from funny to extremely deep. Many times it’s over my head or my attention span.

(If you’ve decided I’m not intellectual enough, here is the link to his blog so you can save yourself the trouble of reading the rest of this: http://www.stupidscholar.blogspot.com/)

We read each other’s stuff every day. He posted one of my entries a few weeks ago. He has linked me to his blog under, “Blogs I Read.”

I appreciate this, almost. He has a few categories for his “Blogs I Read” but I think I’m worthy of a more prominent position in the blog roll. As is it, I feel I've been typecast.

1. He has a “Reformed” Category…I’m a reformed thinker. I’m a Calvinist. Who knew? (if you have to ask who knew…you’re NOT a Calvinist)
2. He has a “Catholic” Category… I hate Notre Dame Football. I want them to lose every game they play for the next 100 years. That still wouldn’t be enough. This eliminates me from the Catholic section.
3. He has “Other Christian Blogs”…I’m a Christian. Why can’t I be there? Is this because I used the word “dumbass” to describe myself in a post? Also, I guess these Christians aren’t Calvinists…to whom I ask…what is God NOT in charge of? Can you surprise God? (This oversimplified explanation of Calvinism may explain why I’m not in the Reformed category…)
4. He has “News and Political” Category…I definitely qualify for this. I talk about politics every once in a while. And if you haven’t caught any of the political posts, I can sum it up by saying the thought “Hillary for President in 2008” makes me want to puke. And not because she’s a woman…it’s because she’s a Clinton.
5. And finally, my category…”Fun and Interesting Blogs”…Is this all I am? Have I no intellectual qualities that might put me in a higher profile area? I’m glad to qualify for fun and interesting, but the category is the last one on his page, hard to find and seemingly an afterthought.

I’m laboring in obscurity. He allows comments on his site. Go over there and complain.

And the breakfast was terrible...

A friend of mine mentioned the other day that he “backpacked” across Europe the year after he graduated from high school.

I was impressed that he would strap on a pack and hike all over Europe, sleeping outdoors and probably hunting for and cooking his own food and I told him so.

He replied he had a Eurorail Pass (unlimited train service) and stayed in Youth Hostels.

I stayed in a Youth Hostel for about two weeks in Paris. I could write ten blog entries on the things that happened. It ranged from hillarious to frightening.

(it actually made you hostile...maybe that's where the name comes from)

Anyway, I was impressed with his Hostel endurance, but don’t understand how he could call it “backpacking.”

Since when do we use our luggage or carrying devices to describe our actions?

“Last August we ‘samsonited’ to the outer banks of North Carolina….”

“I’m ‘walleting’ over to Wal-Mart, but I’ll be back in a few minutes...”

Don’t tell me you “backpacked” around Europe. You road the train, you stayed in hostels, and you ate in restaurants. It’s called TRAVELING.

I’d write more but Holli needs to “purse” over to the grocery store. I’m “money-clipping” along.

The second time, the dog finished third...

The liberal arts school I attended had student government. The President and Vice-President were elected by popular vote as a team ticket, just like the United States election for President.

The best thing I can say about it is that it was useless. They got nothing done and they had no power.

My first year there, a local dog won (these things weren’t taken very seriously) as a write-in vote, necessitating a “do-over.”

At lunch one day, a group of us began to talk about two of our friends running as a team. The Taco Bar had just made its debut in the cafeteria, so our ambitions were understandably high as to what could be accomplished with proper leadership.

Amy was in a sorority and Bill was in a fraternity and we reasoned that would get two of the nine Greek houses on campus to support their ticket.

Amy was white and so was Bill. However, there were only two black people (and no Hispanics) on campus. There was one Jewish guy, but he was Amy’s boyfriend, so we had another demographic sewed up. The gays were still “in the closet,” so that didn’t matter. Bill was left-handed, from the Northeast and an alcoholic. Amy was overweight. We practically had the thing won. The Dream Ticket.

But we had forgotten one thing…who would be the President and who would be the Vice-President?

And that’s where the idea died. As they argued, I remember thinking that these two were almost as idiotic as the process they wanted to enter into…