Shooting 99 in Golf

 

Shooting 99 in Golf

 

I played golf today.  99.  Is 99 a good golf score for me?  Not great, but anything under 100 and I am pretty happy.   But today I did not shoot 99, today I played when the temperature was 99!  Make that ninety friggin nine! 

The weather geeks claimed that it actually feels like not 99, but 105. 

I don’t get that.  I’ve never been in a real temperature of 105.  101 is probably the hottest I can remember.  As I recall it felt like 101, because it WAS 101!  Same today, it felt like 99 because it WAS 99.

What? Oh you need to factor the heat humidity index to get a “Feels Like” temperature.  OK, except in the NY tristate area whenever the temperature is above 80 it is always humid.  How humid? Humid as f*ck, that’s how humid, so the heat humidity index means nothing to me.

Anyway today I played golf and it was 99 out.  I was the only person on the course.  JUST ME! Why? Because the heat humidity index “feels like” temperature scared the crap out of every golfer in the area.

Mrs. C did not want me to play, but I have a dentist appointment tomorrow at 9:30 and decided to leave the shore for home so I can make the appointment in the morning.  Might as well play golf then on the day before.

Mrs. C said it was too hot. 

I promised to only play nine holes and would take an electric cart and not pull my clubs in the heat.

I lied. 

Not intentionally, but I played my best golf since when I had no children and was able to play a lot of golf.  

I played nine holes in an hour and fifteen minutes.  Somedays when it is crowded and I pull my clubs an hour and fifteen would only get you past the third hole.

I brought lots of water, and the cart provided shade, so I decided to play more than nine.  After twelve holes I had a chance to breaking 90.  I have not broken 90 in 30 years, so I plodded on.

At the last hole, a par three, I needed only a five to break 90.  Even with the cart, my ass was dragging.  The heat felt like 99…because it WAS 99.

I hit the green, two putted for par and a final score of 87. 

87 in 99 at 75.

Hell yeah I’m bragging! Dragging, but bragging.

 

 

Dolphins Ospreys and Whales…Oh My!

 

Dolphins Ospreys and Whales…Oh My!

We are spending time at the beautiful New Jersey Shore.  Not the beach, not the ocean, in New Jersey it is “The Shore.” Don’t ask, I don’t know why.  In Jersey we do not fill our gas tanks, and we go to “The Shore”, oh yeah, and we have a diner in every town.

The beach today was a comfortable 75 degrees, the ocean a not so comfortable 55 degrees. 

I stayed out of the ocean.

What do you do at the shore when the water is 55 degrees?  You get tanned, you read a James Patterson book, do a bunch of crossword puzzles and listen to Meatloaf.  Well, everyone does not do that, but that is what I did today. 

I also look at the ocean.

Looking at the ocean is boring you say?  Yes, it can be.  It is relaxing, but it does get boring…unless you really look.  It helps if you look with binoculars.  There is not much to see just staring out to sea without binoculars.  With binoculars it can get interesting.

Today I was perusing a nothing to see ocean when I noticed way out there were several large schools of bunker.  To the naked eye they are just dark spots in the water.  Up close there are fish jumping.  Something must be making the bunker jump.

Sure enough, after watching the bunker school for a bit I spotted several dolphin feeding.  The dolphin moved on and a little later I saw a puff of sea spray. 

Whales!  Two of them.  Up close and personal with the binoculars they put on quite a show, at one point one came straight up out of the water in a feeding frenzy.  While the whales were feeding on bunker my vision was interrupted by a diving osprey who then flew away with his own bunker in its claws.

Just a quiet day at the Jersey shore.  Not much to do except relax.

Oh yeah, also dolphins, ospreys and whales.

Oh my!

 

Another Cranky Rant

 

Another Cranky Rant

 

That’s it, I’m taking my gloves off.  I’m tired of walking on word egg-shells and tap dancing around stuff that suddenly became forbidden to waltz through. 

I don’t get it and I’m done.  LGBTQ…wtf? I only can figure out a few of them.  Don’t use the “N” word.  Fine, what is it?  They won’t tell you because to do so would require you to use the actual word.  WTF?  Yeah, I said it, the “F” letter.  Pretty soon you won’t be able to use even the letters.

Oooh!  You said the “F” word letter!  Did you just use the “N” word letter instead of the “you know what”?  That means you are the “R” word!

Just now I read where an “L” word soccer player said in a ten-year-old tweet that she thought a certain ladies eyes looked like the “A” word.  Apparently, that was the “R” word, except I’ll bet the “L” word lady meant it as a compliment.  These days even a compliment can be deemed as “R” word.

Well, now I am fed up with the use of the “O” word.  You know the word.  I’m pretty sure it is used in a pejorative way.

He drives an “O” word car.  How is that meant to be nice.  It is pejorative.  I am 75 years the “O” word.  That can’t be meant in a nice way otherwise why would people sometimes say I am 75 years “young?”

I am offended by the use of the “O” word.  Well, not that “O” word, the other one. 

You know!

That “O” word is a good thing, it is the other “O” word I don’t like.  I am not sure if “He is the “O” word but he can still the “O” word” is good or not.  I think I object to the first “O” word.

Anyway, my thoughts just drifted.  Maybe because I am getting seasoned.  I am, after all, 75 years seasoned.

That’s it, from now on I declare the “O” word to be offensive.  You know, the offensive “O” word, not the other one. 

I prefer “Seasoned.”

If you disagree then you need to be cancelled!

I decree that from now on we use “Seasoned” instead of the offensive “O” word!

 

What?  I have to change the name of this blog?  That would be a pain in the “A” word.  Pretty sure that “seasoned” would only soon become the “S” word anyway.

So, never mind.

I apologize to anyone I may have offended by my use of several offensive letters.   I am ashamed of my insensitive self and intend to be better in the future.  I intend to attend sessions with a “C” (Not that “C”) in order to become a better version of myself.

I am sorry.