Trees falling, avalanches avalanching, and other wonders...
I'm pretty special. I know. I know. That's what my mother used to tell me. But, thinking back, I believe she meant I was a whack-job. And, I come from a long line of whack-jobs. There is no shortage of whack-jobs in my gene pool. On the other hand, I have experienced some special things in my life.
First, I'm one of those rare (non-existent?) people who has actually seen a tree fall in the forest. No kidding. A big one too. It was up in the Sierras a number of years ago on a hiking trip. Actually, 'rare' would be more appropriate since my wife saw it too.
Another rare thing I've witnessed is an avalanche - also in the Sierra on another hiking trip. That is a marvel that you don't forget. As it happens, this particular avalanche ended in a mountain lake. Quite a sight.
But, for you Mashy Niblites, I have a tale worth mentioning as well. I hit a hole-in-one once.
When I was in my early teens, my dad would take me golfing with him on Saturday mornings. I think it was his way of getting me to go to church with him as much as the golf. We'd throw the clubs in the trunk, go to the earliest service imaginable of a Saturday morning, and then play nine holes before breakfast at a local Pitch-n-Putt. It was fun.
We were on the tee looking at a pin not more than about sixty yards out. I pulled out an eight iron and smacked a beautiful lob that caught the front of the green on the skirt and then rolled as straight as an arrow toward the cup. It seemed to roll for about five minutes - getting slower by the minute. But, sure enough, there was just enough steam to make the lip of the cup and it dropped in for a hole-in-one.
My dad was just beside himself with excitement. He was looking around to see if anyone else had seen it. Sure enough, a couple guys on a nearby green had seen it drop and had raised fists pumping the air. I was pleased - but not overwhelmed. I remember thinking at the time, "Well, that's a lot easier. I think I'll just try to do that on more of the holes."
As you might have guessed, it never quite worked out that way, though. And, I couldn't understand why, if I hit the ball the same way every time, it wouldn't drop like that at least some of the time. The whole thing was just a mystery to me. It still is.
Do you have a hole-in-one story?
Lemme no...
S. Arthur Yegge
Philosopher
posted by The Doctor | 4:52 PM
1 Comments:
O.K. I do have a hole in one story, believe it or not. I have been golfing for 39 years, the exact age of my third born. I remember this because I took it up when she was in a stroller. I would take her to driving range where she would laugh outloud at Mommy's funny movements. In those days I took the whole thing rather seriously, because after all it was all my parents did when they weren't having cocktails or jetting off to some exotic place. Heaven forbid they should actually acknowledge they had grandchildren, and they certainly didn't have time to spend with me, their only child, and my then husband (though they actually liked him). Sooo..imagine my surprise when my father called on a Sunday morning early and asked if we would like to join them at the little pitch and putt out their off I-80 by the graveyard. Now we had enjoyed a very celebretory night with our friends or without, I don't remember, but the important point was that I had a roaring hangover. Of course, I couldn't tell my father that so we gratefully accepted.
The first hole was about 97 yards. You teed off of an embankment to a green on the lower level which was about the consistency of cement. Everyone used a 9 iron, I believe, but since I couldn't then and still can't hit the ball more than 100 yards with any club, I pulled out a 3 wood. When I bent over to put my ball on the tee, my head was so fuzzy I thought I was going to do a face plant in the dirt. (Yes, I said dirt, because that is what was in the tee box. No grass.) But I managed to manuever the ball onto the tee and gave it my best whack. It hit the cement masquerading as a green, took one small bounce and went in the cup. My game went downhill from there and has continued to do so. Come to think of it, though, I have never again played with a severe hangover. Maybe I've hit upon something. Chris
P.S. Now do I get Grandma's tea service too?
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