Golf- Season Four: My scores surely do not reflect it, but I’m feeling improvement. I at least figured out why I prefer to walk a 9-hole course. First of all, because I can. But then again, most people can and I think, do. But without intending to sound boastful (right away, it does- sorry) I can walk 18 holes handily if I ever wanted to invest 4+ hours of my busy, overbooked retired life to do so. Nine is just what the doctor ordered for now.
As for golf carts, yesterday my two good as gold golf buddies generously offered to split riding in the cart so I wouldn’t have to drag my golf bag for nine holes. It really didn’t work out for me. I’m a scooter who likes to approach the ball and assess which club to use. If the cart, which is holding my bag, is clearly on the other side of the fairway, and I have chosen the wrong club, I’m screwed. What a waste of time to have to run down the cart or wait for it to return. I’d much prefer to screw up my own shots with my bagful of clubs at hand. It just brings to mind carpools. I’m not a carpool type of gal, never was and I guess, never will be. In my entire 33 year teaching career, I can only remember carpooling in 1974-75 and that was only because two of my young teacher friends had no car, making me the designated driver. I always made my own hours and they were never conducive to carpooling. So it goes with golfcarting.
Back to the golf course: Allan Sherman’s “Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh” is a metaphor for my game. When it’s going well, I love it and when it’s not, “Take me home, oh muddah fadduh, take me home.”
P.S. I will make an exception for a golfcart if it’s raining as it was today. Golf two days in a row- what a luxury!