Vices - Part 2

My exploration of reasons I'm transfering my vices to golf continues...

#2 It's beautiful. A golf course is a wonderfully beautiful place. Many times I have been overwhelmed with a feeling of peacefulness while standing in the middle of a fairway. The warm sun shines down on a greensward that is maintained for the very reason I am there. I am with my friends and we have no obligations for that time other than to do the thing that we came there to do. The feeling is something like the feeling from childhood of arriving at the park and having no goals or needs except to play. You want to run to that tree and back as fast as you can? Do it. It's similar. The many thoughts I've had throughout the week of wanting to hit a great shot will now finally be set free. It's also like when George C. Scott stands on the ancient battle ground in the film Patton. This is where it happened and this is where we will be tested. Of course men compare anything they do to war. But compared to war and vices, golf is beautiful.






















So this isn't the most beautiful course in America.


















However this is.

Vices

As the Coming of the Baby nears I find that I am moving my impulse for recreational vice into, yes, golf. Who would have guessed? There is a reason stereotypes exist and the Dolfing Gad must exist for a reason. Let's think about why.








Dangerous! Highly addictive!


#1 Addiction. Golf is hard. But rewarding. In that small space is the mating bed of compulsion. Golf rewards compulsive, repetitive, mindless practice and execution. Like a slot machine or blackjack table, one can sit down time after time with little success until hitting a jackpot or a good hand, or, may we all be so lucky, a streak. In golf terms this becomes playing a round and hitting that one perfect shot or putting together a string of pars (or bogeys or birdies, you know, better than your usual). It just feels so good. If this happens once, maybe you'll try to play again and not repeat your success, you never get another "hit," but maybe you do. Maybe you love getting that hit. Watching the ball fly through the air and land far, far away. Launching it from the fairway until it lands softly on the green. Then, miracle, just attempting to putt the ball close to the hole and watching and hearing, unbelievably, as the ball drops into the hole for a birdie. Once something like this happens you are hooked. It may not be fun for you as you may not reproduce it for a long, long time and like any junkie you walk around with a "jones." You jones on the practice tee trying to put a ball through the window of the poor demolition derby truck stranded, crucified by driving range balls. You jones while reading books and magazines packed with the "latest" tips. And, of course, you jones on the course as your tee shots fly off to the right ("for a right handed golfer"), your approach shots land pin high - twenty feet off the green ( add an extra shot or three for skulled chips and chili-dips), and you jones as that three foot putt that you just want to sink to get the hole over with becomes a six inch putt. Was that three putts? Or four?

work

here I am doing what I swore I'd never do - blogging from work.

all alone again. the others will soon return.



who am I? the puppet or the puppet master?

Dream

I dreampt [East of the River spelling of that word] last night of preparing for LitFest at work. However, instead of getting ready at the hotel where the event takes place I was with Gore Vidal and a woman in a aquatic reptile holding tank. We walked on wooden beams just above the level of the water. The tank was filled to beyond capacity with alligators, crocs, small poisonous snakes, and large constricting snakes. Every step was tenuous and spider webs hung in my path. The keeper of the reptiles waded through the water. He, Gore Vidal, and the woman didn't seem to mind. I told them I had to leave and they told me that this was just the rehearsal. It took all my concentration to walk on the beams to leave the reptile area.

I came into an old shed. Still filled with cobwebs. Then, I walked out of the shed into a suburban neighborhood.

Someday

In the future, I wish for a reality in which I never step on another cat's tail. Man, that really makes one unnerved, especially at 6:30 in the morning. The shriek, the cry, the jump, the potential for violence. Why do they just leave their tails laying around everywhere? Maybe I need a Manx cat or just have the tails of the cats I've got chopped off. Is that something you can do at home?

What would the Croc Hunter do?

My new goal is to allow myself to have more than one dream.

I played solid bogey golf yesterday at Studio City. Monica and I went over there. She didn't play, but just walked around and kept my scorecard. I had 7 bogeys, one double bogey, and a par. The three putts were killing me. I blame the greens. The greens were crap. Monica seemed to have a good time. I really liked having her there. We got to the course and there were four or five groups in front of us, but since I was the only one playing we got paired with a nice couple, Bill and Lori. They run their own catering business. We had a great time. Our new agreement is that after the baby comes and we're able to get out and about and Monica is a hundred percent again that I'll run with here while she does marathon training and she'll take up golf.

You'll see that I've just watched Taps on video. (Look to the right.) That was a crazy movie. I never saw it before. Timothy Hutton takes over his military school as they're about to close it down. It was Shakspearean in its ridiculousness. The plot relys on at least two accidental gun discharges that result in deaths. The film goes from believeable to bonkers in a scene and a half. I had to watch just to see how it would end. I mean you kind of know how it would end, but to see exactly. I wonder how they would end it now?

A Scanner Darkly is also very good.

Also, I didn't go to the Golden Oaks community meeting. I'm a lame-o. Sorry old folks.

South Pasadena Seniors Evicted from Golden Oaks

Read the Pasadena Star-News story here:
http://www.pasadenastarnews.com/news/ci_4231263

I called the Golden Oaks yesterday and spoke with a woman who identified herself as a manager. She said that the Star-News story was not true, and that "most people [will] stay" at the Golden Oaks after the remodel and rent increase. I'm skeptical. She also told me that the Star-News was wrong and that there is not a new owner, just that the new owner has hired new management. Star-News gets gigged for that one, but even so, isn't that worse in some ways?

What I haven't got information on is the eviction of folks who are on Section 8 housing assistance, and whether those people have been evicted or not, and whether it's legal or not. Certainly it's immoral.

I'm going to call City Hall today and see what's going on over there with regard to this.

The manager at Golden Oaks told me that there will be a community meeting at the Golden Oaks on Saturday, September 2 at 4:30 pm to 5 pm. If you are concerned about the plight of older Americans then you should attend this meeting, learn what you can and share your view.