Close behind 10 days of fantastic summer weather, the rain was slanting down out of the south with a 15 mph wind howling. This automatically cancelled my scheduled Monday morning golf game with a couple of local senior citizens.
I have been living in the Pacific Northwest with its 2 feet of rain every year and still have not given up and bought knee-length golf goulashes with spikes in them and a black slicker and waterproof pants so that I can play golf on so many bad weather days. It is a game, not a macho manhood rite for me, to spend a couple of hours trying to get the ball in the next hole.
Up until the age of 75 or 80, I kind of shined golf by saying I was not old enough yet. Then one day I showed up with my checkbook and took a private lesson and found out what golf was all about and how much fun and frustration it could be.
That lesson with Steve Nightingale helped me, psychologically. I had traded Tom Weiskopf ski lessons for golf lessons. I spent the better part of a couple of winters skiing with him while he was designing and building the golf course at the Yellowstone Club. And, without keeping tack, I figure that he owes me about 75 hours of private golf lessons. Knowing he is too busy to ever teach me anything, it is nice to have bragging rights that you have that reserve in the bank. The last time that I saw Tom in Montana he agreed to write the introduction to a cartoon book I have been drawing and writing in my spare time for the last couple of years. It’s kind of fun, so I hope he’ll have the time.
Our golf course on the island has been called a lot of things from quaint to rock hard in the late fall when the rain has not shown up for a month or so. I personally think the course is great. There are nine holes with 18 tees, so you can play for two hours or four depending on your stamina.
A few years ago a contractor here on the island bought it and his son runs it. They have a staff of one green keeper. For contrast, occasionally Laurie and I drive to the Yellowstone Club in the summer and for their 18 holes they have 36 green keepers. Either course you play, it is just as hard to get that little white ball into the black hole.
I don’t bother to keep score and it all works out just fine for me. I even get an extra shot on every hole and have a lot of fun with my short game because that is what I do with every shot. I just hit it short.
But, that is about to all change because the other day I went to the driving range and someone was demonstrating the latest in golf clubs. It is just the same as a demo ski day, but you don’t have to worry about sharp edges. He put three different clubs into my hands and each one of them made the ball go at least 20 yards farther. I can’t tell how far on the driving range because I can’t see where the ball is landing after it is 15 yards away from where I hit it. (And, occasionally that 15 yards is as far as I can hit it.)
Why does everyone have to keep score? When I go skiing no one asks me what my record time from top to bottom is. I prefer to mark each descent with making sure the marmot is still living by the tree at the junction of the runs Quarterback Sneak and Face Lift.
There was a time with the previous owners of the Orcas Island Golf Course did not do a good job and one day I was playing and the deep water, clay mud pulled one of my golf shoes off with its incredible sucking power. There are no side curtains on the golf carts to protect us from the rain, but the new owners have replaced most of the gasoline-powered carts with electric drive carts. This for me is a real luxury to glide from golf shot to golf shot in almost total silence except for my muttering about how bad my shot was. Especially if I am playing with my regular partner, Lynn, and he has forgotten to put in his hearing aids (and I can’t see so we make a great pair.)
The two of us usually play in the morning and most of the time we have the course to ourselves. Most of the members buy the cheapskate membership and they can only play in the afternoon.
When we first moved here in 1992, I was hooked on learning how to fish for salmon. I soon found out why they call it fishing instead of catching. I still have all of the fishing gear hanging in my garage. In playing golf, at least I know what I am looking for and how to find it. I can come home from a game of golf and stretch the imagination of anyone who will listen about my lack of ability on a golf course. In every other game the highest score wins, but in golf the lowest score wins. This should tell you about how goofy the entire game of golf is. It is a game where the first liar doesn’t have a chance.
