Ahm, no, no, and again quoting my stepson "hells to the nos."
Do re me. Victor, you misspelled 'mi'. Huh uh, 'me' with intent. I really really wish I could write about someone, something else (and thankfully I do occasionally!), every time I look in the mirror, it's ME!
Every time I look down at my shoes, they're MINE, so, you're stuck with reading what happens while I'm in em. Sorry, kinda, but, you could Snagglepuss here and I wouldn't get mad.
I can't wait until tomorrow. Victor, you already said that, and yeah yeah yeah, according to that little redheaded snotnose, we're aware the sun will undoubtedly come out. So, why do you say that?
Well... I suppose out of fear. Unknown. Huh? You basically said 'Kool-aid Kool-aid, tastes great, wish I had some, can't wait" for tomorrow.
Yep. Tomorrow is scary. It ain't like being a kid and "next year, I'm gonna do 10 more pull ups."
Contrary to how many millions Clairol sells, "you're not getting older, you're getting better" is funny ha ha. Makes me wanna run to Dicks Sporting Goods and buy a can of tennis balls
For my walker. I mean look around.. sometimes older ain't pretty.
Me, me, me.
Just yesterday morning (Victor? James Taylor ain't it? Fire and Rain?).. well no. I mean yes, kinda.
Just yesterday morning I drove to the golf course. Victor, it's like one of your former "you knows" said, "Not everyone is as excited as you about your ideas, interests", ahm, like golf. Hell I ain't even sure if either of your two readers have ever played.
Where was I? Oh yeah, golf course, Kearney, MO. We (old farts) gather at 9-ish, for the daily 'scramble'. That's where we put colored chips in a hat, we draw for teams.
Most days 12 or so guys, sometimes, a perty lady or three, and we play 18 holes, bet a whopping $4... hope like heck the new hips, knees, teeth all function.
We care, but we don't, who wins. I drew a red chip. Four to a team today, hey, Charlie got red too! Charlie is 85, a damn good golfer, fun, and even better, from Liberty like me!
Ron M got a red chip too. He's 79, if you can picture Tim Conway, uh huh, that's him. Dry, dry (wonderful) wit. I hollered to Charlie (loud enough for Ron M (Tim Conway) to hear, "Aw crap, now we gotta have fun."
Add Ron S (77 I think), good dude. Glory Days, Little All American Running back.
So...two Ron's and Liberty (Charlie and I.) 85, 79, 77, and me, the pup, 71.
And there I was. I was taken to a place (VICTOR, I know that one, Spill the Wine, War!) Well, yes, and no.
The place I was taken to was what I've feared... tomorrow... living, being... 75... 77... 79.. 80... 83.. 85.
Between laughter, jokes, bantering, talk of wives, more laughter....we'd occasionally hit a golf ball straight.. in the woods.. not very far.. too far... and on rare occasions, perfectly.
The older guys, honest, better golfers than I. We were, by far, the oldest of our three groups.
Yesterday's blog was home on the range, where, seldom is heard a discouraging word. Golf with two Ron's and Liberty (Charlie and I) there was NEVER a discouraging word.
Tim Conway (ie, Ron M, 79) was awesome. Par three course, I think he hit (landed on, first shot) 16 outta 18 greens. I complimented him after. True to Conway form, "hey, will you tell Bo I played good? They wanted to kick me off the team yesterday!" (They hadn't, and didn't.... Bo, 'Tim', were simply funning.
I wish I could relate every humorous line, take, moment, but. .. that (fun, humor, light) was nonstop.
Now, I can't wait for tomorrow. Why Victor? Is that because Charlie (85) and 'Tim' (79) and Ron S. (77) hit em so straight so you think there's future hope for you to do so too?
Well, perhaps. We all, at least I do, fear the unknown. None of us have ever been older.
If, being blessed to be older, and to resemble the fun, leisure, levity, good nature like my teammates displayed, I can't wait.
We finished 2nd, outta three groups. Won a dollar.
Leaving now to go play again this morning. Be there or be talked about. It's more than the coffee, donuts, pars, bogey, birdies.
It's life. I can't wait.
Love, Victurd
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