Nothing much to write about today. I know there must be all kinds of stories in the Tea Party Cup but I don’t feel like sliming my hands.
I found out in reading the Mobridge Tribune (South Dakota) that Holly Hoffman, one of the contestants in this season’s Survivor, is from Eureka, S.D. Small world. And Eureka is about as small a world as one can find. Yet here we have an attractive swim instructor who managed to get on this reality show. Another Eureka celebrity is Al Neuharth, the founder of USA Today. It’s just northeast of Mobridge, a tiny burg we used to play in football, and brother Dick and I on occasion would play in a weekend tournament at their little golf course. Holly is the one who put sand in Dan’s shoes and then submerged them in the lagoon. I have no idea what that was all about, but then, neither of us has a clue about anything that happens on this show. We’ve never been a fan of Survivor, but we watched the episode in which Jimmy Johnson was given the old boot, just to see what Holly was up to. Not much. She had almost no coverage in that week’s action. We may or may not watch next week’s show. Probably not.
The Ryder Cup commenceth. Wales. Rain in huge Welsh buckets. They managed to get in about nine holes in the opening foursomes matches, but then darkness descended. So tomorrow they’re going to play everyone in foursomes and four-ball matches and be able to come to the normal sixteen points with the final twelve points in the singles on Sunday. I just don’t know why they have to play in lousy weather so often when they’re “over there.” Then there’s the time difference. If one wants to watch live action, one has to get up really early. I guess that’s why we have TiVo.
After fourteen years of working as starter at Stardust Golf Course, I’ve decided to call it a day. Actually 4028 days. That’s a long time. I remember telling Carol Fritch in my interview with her that one of my main advantages for the job was my youth. Wow. I no longer feel like I represent youth. I’ll miss all the friends I’ve made there over the years, especially the Tuesday ladies, but I feel like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I guess that weight could be called Rose Putz. In her four-year tenure as manager, she’s “managed” to make my life miserable. I’ve never met a more inflexible person in my life, nor one with as few “people” qualities. She’ll be glad to see the last of me, and I’ll certainly be glad to see the last of her.
And here’s something niece Amy sent me, and I couldn’t resist.