...I'd be rich...behold Hawaii, where a friend from work got to visit for free as a guest of some generous and well-to-do folks he met while playing tournament tennis.
That's the view from their balcony...here's where they stayed...
...and one of the secluded beaches they enjoyed.
He's promised to send along some more pics soon.
If he does I'll share them, accompanied by some snide commentary ("oh yeah? well at least in my pool I won't get eaten by a hammerhead shark! Karen, can you fetch my inflatable ducky thingy?").
Note to self: in my next life, learn to play tennis, not hickory golf.
But speaking of hickory golf, I attempted that par 3 course again with decidedly lackluster results.
In fact, the results were so lackluster there's been a complete...
(ok, enough with the wild cheering...that's just rude.)
The only thing of interest (to me, anyway) was my tee shot on #3 that landed in a sand trap (not a shock since there are 3 of them surrounding the green).
Ergo, I had a chance to put into practice what I'd learned from watching several you tube videos.
According to the pros, there's quite a bit to it...open stance, ball even with the front foot, weight forward, aim left of your target, 75% swing, hit the sand not the ball...my head hurt just thinking about it.
Thankfully I found one that simplified things for the average duffer.
It said this:
Take your stance so the spray of sand you're about to create will go where you want it to.
Sounds simple enough.
In other words, you don't have to twist yourself into a pretzel; use common sense and eyeball it like you would any other shot.
Then swing your sand wedge (or in my case, niblick) smoothly and firmly so you strike the sand, not the ball.
That worked pretty well.
I blasted out of the sand trap and onto the green, almost like I knew what I was doing.
That's not to say I'm now an expert; far from it.
To that end, next spring there will be a couple of new greens in my backyard (bringing the total to 5), along with several sand traps where the grass is thin and patchy anyway.
Karen says I'm just doing this so I'll have less lawn to mow, a benefit that I admit did not escape my notice.
By this time next year I hope to be rubbing my hands together with glee whenever I land in a sand trap...
...or at least not cursing under my breath like I do now.
Ok, you've suffered enough...time for some parting shots...
|Larry's back at his cottage enjoying life at the lake...|
|...including wildlife like this pileated woodpecker...|
|...and this obviously terrified squirrel (Dorian Gray, according to Larry).|
|or any other kind for that matter|
|I thought cats didn't like water...?|
At one point - due to an apparent brain freeze - he held this clenched fists pose so long I wondered if he'd become catatonic.
That was just one of many bizarro behaviors and wandering answers provided during this clown show.
An obviously uncomfortable Anderson Cooper acted as more of a nurse maid than moderator.
Many times Cooper had to prod his patient's failing memory and guide him back to the question JB was allegedly answering.
Not sure what the intent was of this town hall meeting for which no one was clamoring, but the result of it was this:
It's crystal clear the lights are on but nobody's home, and it sure ain't JB who's running the country.
I miss the days when we were a functioning constitutional republic.
later, mcm fans...
* Crass Commercialism Corner *
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