Woke up early, just as I always do — I think it was about 5:30 — still dark outside. I lay there quietly, trying not to wake up Naomi. It took me a few minutes before I realized that she was gone. Oh yeah… Naomi flew home yesterday. She’d texted me late last night that she was back in her ‘Victor Street’ house, safe and sound.
I spent far too much time lying in bed, reading on my phone. When I finally got out of bed, it was time for me to ‘hurry up’ and get ready for the day. It was cold this night, and for a while I thought I might actually wear long pants for today’s golf game. But by the time I’d had my oatmeal and banana, the sun had warmed things up considerably, and I left the house at around 9:20 in shorts and a golf shirt and only a light sweater.
The drive to Big Rock Golf Course was about 20 minutes. I’d golfed it with Robert & Arlene twice before, two years ago. I arrived and checked in. Soon the Dycks were there as well. We explored the clubhouse and the attached pub — the place is decorated with autographed guitars and posters and even a couple of ‘stage outfits’ worn by some of the rock stars whose signed guitars hung on the walls and ceiling. The Eagles, B.B. King, Metallica, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, Bob Seger, etc. Fascinating! The guy behind the counter explained that one of the two owners was a big-time collector of the rock and roll instruments and signatures, and that all the items were for sale with the proceeds going to a cancer charity.
We putted a bit on the practice green and then headed off to the first tee. We were about to tee off when the started announced that we would have a fourth join our group. Tom, from Santa Monica, would be riding in the cart with me for the round.
My tee shot bounced through an iron fence and into the garden of one of the homes that lined the left side of the first fairway. Not an auspicious start. Meanwhile, Tom’s tee shot went straight and (very) far right down the middle of the fairway. We pulled up to where Tom said my ball had gone into the year; Tom stretched his arm in through the fence and managed to retrieve my ball. I set it on the fairway and with my next swing of the club, hit the ball across the fairway, into a big pond. I fished out the ball and took another whack at it. Sculled it right. The ball sailed across the pond, landed on the far shore — and then rolled down the hill and back into the pond. After a third swing I was finally on the green, lying seven!
Well, I won’t bore you with a play-by-play of all SIXTY strokes I took on those first nine holes.
The day turned out to be a very pleasant golfing day. Not hot, and not cold. And Tom was a fine golfer and a great cart partner — always positive and encouraging.
Before loading up the clubs and heading for home, Robert and Arlene invited me to join them for supper and a Jets game at the motorhome. I stopped in town to return a pair of shorts that Naomi had picked up for me to try on yesterday. Showered and changed and headed to the Dycks place for a 5 o’clock happy hour. The hockey game turned out about as good (Jets 3, Panthers 0) as the pork chops and Brussel sprouts Robert barbecued for dinner (i.e. superb).
When I got home I plunked myself down on the couch and watched a bit of TV until it was time to stumble off to bed.