I think it's in the Old Testament, Book of Ecclesiastes, there's a reference to seasons and taskings, at least as Pete Seeger understood it when he adapted portions to write "Turn, Turn, Turn" that The Byrds took to the top of the pops back when rock was dirty and the air was clean.
I mention seasons and purpose because driving home yesterday I passed a golf course-actually I pass it everyday driving home, but yesterday there were people playing. One of the reasons I like fall in New England is, on many days, you know you're alive because you can see your own breath as you exhale. We were having one of those days here yesterday.
What's that seasonal song, "and folks wrapped up like Eskimos..." That's about the way the golfers looked as opposed to that (late) Payne Stewart wardrobe, the cardigans and knickerbockers and the trilby caps (I've always loved the ones the elderly guys wear, with what looks a pom-pom on the top. Someone told me, perhaps incorrectly, those are called tam o'shanters. If I could've ever persuaded my lovely wife to have a third child, that's what I wanted to call her/him, "Tam". Sort of works for either sex, or the two sexes we have so far, and it's easy to remember.)
You have to love golf an awful lot to traipse around on near-frozen earth and grass, with a chill wind blowing, with eighteen layers of clothing (one for each hole?) keeping you from feeling your own fingers and toes. Or, perhaps, you have to be crazy?
I'm not sure of which, or how to tell them apart.
What was it Mark Twain said of golf? "Golf is a good walk, ruined."
Playing through....
-bill kenny
No comments:
Post a Comment