Sunday, July 29th, 2007

Last week was spent watching the old farts MTV ( The Weather Chanel) hoping to catch a break from the gods of thunder for our Friday foray out onto the links. Well, as luck would have it, thunderstorms were being predicted at 90% for Friday! No matter how many times a day I looked at that grinning snot on the TV, the percentages would not change! I felt sure she knew I was planning a golf day. Oh, the conspiracy of it all! Needless to say, my golf buddy Mitch and I decided to move our golf game ahead by one day. But, the only tee off time I could get was 2:14 PM. Now that sneering bitch on the weather chanel has consistently lied to me in the past. So when she said that Thursday was going to be a screaming hot day, I simply scoffed at her predictions and yelled at the TV that she really must see a professional hairstylist! ( You do that sort of thing when you become an old fart; as if they will answer you back,,,) I confirmed my tee off time and snickered under my breath.
Spring ahead to Thursday. Lovely day! I walk out the front door, and immediately break out in torrential sweat! That trollop! What a time to get all truthful on me! One of those days where you dehydrate while walking from your front door to the car! 9 yards of hell! Thank God for air conditioning! Well, at least until you get out onto the golf course. I arrived at the club and was greeted by a very sweaty Mitch, guzzling a bottle of Evian, and looking like a drowned rat. Having paid our fees, we made our way to the first tee where we were greeted by the Start Marshall. He introduced us to the two lads would make up our foursome. Now, I say lads, becuase these were two young men in the prime of their youth, built like lumberjacks, and dry as a bone! This promised to be a long day. Eric was the first to tee up. The sound of the club head striking the ball was like the sound of a bullwhip cracking! Now I KNEW we were screwed! The second lads drive was the same. After the prerequisite " Nice drive!" ( which roughly translates in golfspeak to " Ya rotten bastard!") it was my turn. I was spared embarrassment, and hit a fairly decent drive. Unfortunately, the heat and stress seemed to have taken its toll on Mitch. Sorry, I cannot repeat the expletives here. Thus, we advanced to our approach shots. Now, I must say here, I am not the longest driver by any stretch of the imagination, But I DO practise my short game a lot. The same could not be said for our young friends. The frustration was evident, and I must say; with an evil cackle; I was loving it!
Well, 18 holes later, Mitch and I were ready to be transported to hospital for heat stroke. I had drank so much water, my pee was crystalline! Upon arriving home, I had the sanity of mind to jot down the web address of the weather chanel How dare she decide to tell the truth without advance warning! I fired off an e mail, but that, is another story,,,,,,,