My books can be purchased as e-books for only $1.99. If interested, just click here: Books.
Match Play is a golf/suspense novel. Dust of Autumn is a bloody one set in upstate New York. Prairie View is set in South Dakota, with a final scene atop Rattlesnake Butte. Life in the Arbor is a children's book about Rollie Rabbit and his friends (on about a fourth grade level). The Black Widow involves an elaborate extortion scheme. Doggy-Dog World is my memoir. And ES3 is a description of my method for examining English sentence structure.
In case anyone is interested in any of my past posts, an archive list can be found at the bottom of this page.
My newest novel, Happy Valley, can be found here.
Wednesday, April 15
The first tv coverage was in black and white, showing only the last four holes, not permitting us to see the unnatural beauty of the Augustan landscape. Each year that landscape becomes more and more beautiful, looking as though every flowering plant and bush and tree has been lovingly watered and trimmed by hundreds of caretakers, each blade of grass cut by hand, one blade at a time. And it was only in the last twenty years that we’ve been allowed to see the front nine. “No, no, no,” the Augusta National board members indicated, wagging a cautionary finger at us, “You can see only what we allow you to see, and watch only about three hours daily, regardless of what some of the players are doing when the cameras are not on. And you must never never make jokes about our course.” Jack Whitaker got a 5-year suspension from the CBS coverage for calling the gallery “a mob.” And jokester Gary McCord got a lifetime suspension for suggesting that the speed of the 17th green made it look like it had been “bikini-waxed.” And heaven help the gallery slob who screams out “MASHED POTATOES!” or “GO IN THE HOLE!” at someone’s tee shot. The Augusta police force would be on the miscreant immediately, escorting him in handcuffs to the nearest exit, warning him never ever again to darken the doors of their hallowed halls of ivy. I love this tournament, but the sacrosanctity of everything about it is annoying. All players and ticket holders seem required to bow and scrape as they enter down Magnolia Lane. And then we hear over and over about the Eisenhower tree, the Hogan Bridge, Amen Corner, the Crow’s Nest, Rae’s Creek, the ceremony of the Green Jacket, the par-3 tournament on Wednesday, and the ceremonial opening drives by past winners now so infirm they can hardly stand up. Arnold Palmer was this year’s infirm driver, nearly topping a low squibbler to the left. So, will I continue to watch this tournament despite my annoyance at the sobriety and sanctity of the tournament directors? You bet I will. And I’ll hope for either a second Jordan Spieth victory next year, or a rejuvenated Tiger’s fifth win, fifteenth major.
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