I keep wondering when I'll actually sit down and start working on my next book. When will I pick up my 6-string and give it a long-overdue tune-up? When will I actually master the little things, like chords on the piano? When will I just quit fooling myself and put the Cobras, Titleists, Clevelands and Eidolons back in the trunk?
If the answer is "when hell freezes over," I'm afraid we're almost there. The course was blanketed with frost this morning. But with the economy flown south for the winter, another kid going off to college next year, and a bailout of the ad industry nowhere in sight, who has time for golf anymore anyway? No wonder the book isn't written, the guitar's out of tune and the piano is merely a piece of furniture in my living room. All I do is work these days.
But I guess it beats the alternative.
Or does it?
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1 comment:
Hey Sparky, i feel your pain in different ways. One, not able to enjoy your happy go lucky attitude on the course has the ripple effect of reducing my playing time. And two, its always dangerous when a fellow avid golfer sets a dangerous precedent that one can stop playing golf. Reminds me of joke why is golf better than sex? Because when your partner calls and asks to play for the third time this week, the response isn't, "not again."
Your good friend,
Scully
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