Atomic Monster Cafe: What Would You Think...

...if your son sent you that, accompanied by this text?

"pray for me. I'm doing this tomorrow."

Perhaps I can be forgiven for fearing the worst.

A quick phone call cleared up the matter:

He wasn't turning himself in for some hidden misdeed (he texted back, "Don't worry, Dad...those coppers will never take me alive!"), he was providing transpo for homeless people who wanted to 'fess up and make a <recens satus>.

We laughed about it and he agreed a better text might have been, "pray for me, I'm helping out with this tomorrow."

Parenting: not for the faint of heart.

I promise I won't inject politics into this blog entry.

What?

With democrats, it's not an injection.

It's a suppository.

You've waited so patiently, how can I put it off any longer?

Careful laddie, that's dangerous! If the woke police catch you smoking, you're done for.

My recent rounds have been a little more down to earth, thankfully.

Managed 3 pars and 6 bogeys mid week, a little better than I did on Friday.

Probably happiest about parring #3 after my tee shot landed in the sand trap guarding the green.

Unlike the gent above, I used the Harry Vardon method of exiting a bunker...a forceful downward stroke into the sand just behind the ball, and out it popped to within a foot of the pin.

Tapped in for par and almost looked like I knew what I was doing.

Close behind that on my satisfaction meter is how I'm striking the ball with both my short and mid spoons.

Making good contact and hitting them straight most of the time (emphasis on "most").

Still struggling with my brassie, as I always have with longer clubs.

Might be time to try a new training method: