Sunday, June 26

Herman Golf

I found this old “Herman” that I’d tucked away in one of my books, and it seems to be perfect for my current predicament, the damnable game of golf. I may not cut my clubs into small pieces, but I may put them all out at a garage sale. People (yes, you, Anne) keep telling me that even though I can no longer play as well as I used to, I still play better than nearly all who take up the game. Bah! My present scores wouldn’t be so bad if that’s all I'd ever done, play to a fifteen or sixteen handicap. Then I wouldn’t now be so dissatisfied with the scores I keep making round after round. But in the past, I could always look forward to a round of golf because there was always the possibility of something magical, like a really low score, or a bunch of birdies, or the occasional eagle. Well, that sort of magic is gone and can never return. So, here's to Herman and his hacksaw.

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