Celebrate a little green on the green with me today, St. Patrick's Day.
For all my golfing friends, a gander at this past weekend's Wall Street Journal "Can Your Golf Ball Make a Difference?" by John Paul Newport's Golf Journal gives a concise bird's-eye-view of golfballs. Newport reviews the Nike Crush, the Callaway HX Diablo Tour, the Noode+ Easy Distance, the Titleist Pro v1, and the Bridgestone e6.
I've never had a reason to care what golf ball I used: they were equaly errant in their flight patterns. But perusing the five balls they showcased, I should consider the Noode. It is one of the least expensive at $15. And a recommendation for a "low swing-speed player who need higher ball flight" seems to explain my need to a T--pardon the pun!
Newport also suggests an economy of scales for the "everyday players, with their inconsistent games." It stands to reason that big differences in the game of the pros, then we might be able to appreciate the "huge" differences in ball selections.
Perhaps it is time to time to seek a pro, as he suggests. I've never had a professional lesson--unless you count the Golf 101 I took in college several decades ago. So, stay tuned for my next adventure into "I've never" in celebration of my 50th year. And Erin Go Braugh.
Coffee With Clark
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Dear Clark,
Thank you for the unexpected visit today. There you were on Turner Classic Movies playing Rhett Butler. And it is the day after I started posting the musings we share. And the Wall Street Journal covered a new book about Gone With The Wind. It's a sign.
Watching GWTW again, what a lovely treat. But since that first time I saw you in that Bellevue theatre, I've wondered why Scarlett held so much fascination for you. You never knew the term "high maintenance" probably. But there you have it: you fell for a high maintenance babe. And you remember how that turned out. Just saying.
I went to A Midsummer's Night's Dream at my old high school today. A fairy fell for an ass in that play, so it seems to be a timeless scenario that plagues both sexes. The fairy at least had the excuse of being under an enchantment. I've fallen for an ass as well. Unfortunately, I don't have a wood sprite to blame. But if you think about it, enchantment can look like many things: a dark-haired man with a moustache comes to mind.
A self-help book has probably supplied the answer to why these things happen. But I've given those books up in honor of entering my second half century. It was like burning my bra or something.
I don't think Scarlett would have read them. That's another sign: I'm sure of it.
No sign of your replacement, yet. But I'll think about that tomorrow, after all tomorrow is another day.
Thank you for the unexpected visit today. There you were on Turner Classic Movies playing Rhett Butler. And it is the day after I started posting the musings we share. And the Wall Street Journal covered a new book about Gone With The Wind. It's a sign.
Watching GWTW again, what a lovely treat. But since that first time I saw you in that Bellevue theatre, I've wondered why Scarlett held so much fascination for you. You never knew the term "high maintenance" probably. But there you have it: you fell for a high maintenance babe. And you remember how that turned out. Just saying.
I went to A Midsummer's Night's Dream at my old high school today. A fairy fell for an ass in that play, so it seems to be a timeless scenario that plagues both sexes. The fairy at least had the excuse of being under an enchantment. I've fallen for an ass as well. Unfortunately, I don't have a wood sprite to blame. But if you think about it, enchantment can look like many things: a dark-haired man with a moustache comes to mind.
A self-help book has probably supplied the answer to why these things happen. But I've given those books up in honor of entering my second half century. It was like burning my bra or something.
I don't think Scarlett would have read them. That's another sign: I'm sure of it.
No sign of your replacement, yet. But I'll think about that tomorrow, after all tomorrow is another day.
Friday, February 11, 2011
A Journey Begins
If the definition of insanity is doing the same things over and over and expecting different results, then I am guilty of such insanity.
So, I vowed in front of my book club sisters to start a blog to chronicle my attempt to see what might be possible. As I start my first days of my 50th year, I hear the world calling my name. But what is it saying?
For many years, I have had coffee and conversation each morning with my first love, Clark Gable. Yes, I know he has passed on to the silver screen in the sky, but I have a coffee mug with Rhett Butler beaming a sexy smile right at me. And this is enough for me. I talk. He listens. I trust him to keep my secrets.
Last year, I made a pilgrimage to Hollywood and spent a tearful afternoon staring at his hand prints and signature in front of the Chinese theatre. I have the photo of me spread out over his concrete block sitting on my mantel. I fell in love with him at a tiny theatre in Bellevue, Kentucky when I was in the fourth grade. The camera panned down the staircase of Tara, and there he was. Babling! I think my heart stopped at the age of 10.
I find it only natural then to extend these conversations to my journey out of my present life and into my future. I will do one thing each day that is different from the day before and test the definition of insanity. I invite you to sit in on my conversations over coffee with Clark, and to imagine with me what may be possible on my journey
So, I vowed in front of my book club sisters to start a blog to chronicle my attempt to see what might be possible. As I start my first days of my 50th year, I hear the world calling my name. But what is it saying?
For many years, I have had coffee and conversation each morning with my first love, Clark Gable. Yes, I know he has passed on to the silver screen in the sky, but I have a coffee mug with Rhett Butler beaming a sexy smile right at me. And this is enough for me. I talk. He listens. I trust him to keep my secrets.
Last year, I made a pilgrimage to Hollywood and spent a tearful afternoon staring at his hand prints and signature in front of the Chinese theatre. I have the photo of me spread out over his concrete block sitting on my mantel. I fell in love with him at a tiny theatre in Bellevue, Kentucky when I was in the fourth grade. The camera panned down the staircase of Tara, and there he was. Babling! I think my heart stopped at the age of 10.
I find it only natural then to extend these conversations to my journey out of my present life and into my future. I will do one thing each day that is different from the day before and test the definition of insanity. I invite you to sit in on my conversations over coffee with Clark, and to imagine with me what may be possible on my journey
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