The last time I went golfing, if I remember correctly, was perhaps 15 years ago, in beautiful Forest City, IA, during a freinds wedding weekend, sort of a bachelor party sort of thing. I remember two things about it. I got a birdie (that’s one under par, right? – I shot 2 on a three par)  That was the good part. It didn’t make up for the bad part.

The bad part was at the first tee off (again, if I don’t have my terminology right, it’s because I am quite ignorant.)  Right in front of the Club house. All the guys I was with were watching as well as a group behind us.

Put the ball on the tee, get in position, lift up the club, swing hard, become aware that I made contact with something, . . . look up.

The ball landed about fifteen feet in front of me, after a few bounces. The divot went farther. My companions were gracious, and only chuckled slightly.

I was not pleased.

So when anyone asks, “Do you golf?” I say this:

If someone wants to pay me to look stupid and foolish, I might do it. I might even do it for free. But you aren’t often going to find me paying thirty bucks (forty?) to look foolish and stupid.