Pages

Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

My Not-So-Deep-Thoughts of a Summer Vacation Morning


As I sit here this beautiful summer morning by the pool, with my black lab Suzy sitting at my feet, I couldn't help but let my mind wander. And it occurred to me that at the age of forty seven, there are so many things about life that I still do not know the answer to. Because I am on vacation today – and my wife is out and about (as we Canadians say), I found myself with the luxury to write some of these questions – and a few observations – down.


These are my own not-so-deep thoughts of a summer vacation morning:


"How is it that a Mom's work is never done, but Dad's Honey-do list has no last page?"

"How come every kid in North America plays or has played soccer over the last thirty years, yet they keep telling me the game will never catch on over here?"


"If Darwinism is a scientific basis for natural evolution and based on the principles of survival of the fittest, then why are kittens so damned cute?"


"How is it possible for a child to move the entire contents of their bedroom into the living room in a matter of minutes, but it takes me an hour to put them back?"

"If we tell our kids that 'no' means no, then why do we answer their unreasonable requests with .. 'We'll see'"


"How come Dads always have to use the downstairs bathroom?"


"How is it that a Mom's work is never done, but Dad gets up at 6:30 every morning?"


"Why did I bother to get the full baseball package when the DVD player and the Wii are hooked up to the same TV as the digital cable box? Did I really think I was going to watch baseball games on the good TV?"


"Why is golf such a waste of time and money, but there is always time for bingo?"


"How come when there is pee on the toilet seat, all the women in my house blame me?"


"Why is it that when Dad watches a movie and one of the characters is a really hot looking woman, Dad gets in trouble … but Mom can read all the trashy Harlequin Romance novels she wants?"


"How can my wife actually know I'm looking at the gorgeous woman walking down the street when she is driving and I'm wearing very dark sunglasses?"


"Why is it okay for me to have a beer after cutting the grass on a hot summer day, but not after three loads of kids laundry on a Sunday morning?"


"Why is it that the sandwich my wife makes me tastes twice as good as the ones I make for myself?"


"Why is it okay to send my daughters to their rooms for a whole afternoon, but when I lock them in a broom closet for ten minutes, the cops show up? Maybe next time I should take their cell phones away first."


"Why hasn't anyone stood up against these evil breakfast cereal manufacturers putting toy surprises in the box?"


"Why does my black lab prefer the water in the toilet bowl to the fresh water in her dog bowl?"

"How come kids can swim in cold water in a swimming pool until their lips turn blue, but you have to drag them kicking and screaming into a bath tub?"


"Why is summer the fastest season to pass, yet winter seems to last half a year?"


"Why does Michael Jackson have more fans than Neal Armstrong?"


"Why hasn't anybody yet invented a Velcro fastener for socks so they stay together when you wash them?"


"Why does my wife insist on planting so many flowers in our gardens that I'm just going kill from neglect anyways?"


"Why aren't there any professional kick-ball leagues?"


"Why is it that the eighty dollar designer sunglasses I just bought are broken or lost within the first day, but the dollar store pair I bought seem to be made of indestructible material?"


"Why do dogs like to eat kitty litter?"


"If cats truly hate water, then why do they keep falling in the toilet bowl?"


"How come when I was eight years old, my Dad wouldn't let me listen to rock-and-roll because it was music for druggies … but he played Johnny Cash's Folsum Prison album so many times I learned all the words to 'Cocain Blues' ?"

"Since getting our energy from the wind is so popular now, why aren't people putting sails on the motor boats?"


"If we are supposed to be moving towards electric cars that we plug into sockets when we come home every night, how come our power grids can't handle the everyone running air conditioners in July?"


" I think they should have a worldwide championship every year for all the professional sports teams of the world to play against each other."


"How come a beer tastes so much better when you're drinking it with a good friend?"


"Why don't people buy designer pool covers so they can find their houses easier when flying in airplanes?"

"If two wrongs don't make a right, then three wrongs should be a ticket-able offense."


"Why do rich people who live on the lake have swimming pools?"

"If the sun generates enough power to heat the entire planet and make the chlorophyll in all the worlds plants make them green, then why are my solar garden lights so dim?"

"Why is it every time I go to professional baseball game, there is a drunk guy in my section heckling the umpire and players? Is there one in every section?"


"Why is it now that the music I listened to as a kid often sounds like music that only a kid would listen to?"


"How come the solar blanket I cover my pool with to heat the water doesn't melt the plastic pole I role it up on when we go swimming on a hot day?"


"If perpetual motion is an impossible feat to achieve under the earth's gravity, then how come the water that flows over Niagara falls never stops?"


"Why is it the cutest moments of you children's young lives occur when you digital camera is broken? "

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Cleaning My Clubs

Every January, I like to bring my golf clubs out. There may be a foot of snow outside, but I am not preparing to play on this very cold day.

It's more of a therapeutic activity.

I am preparing for the days yet to come.

I set my clubs out in order - from wedges to long irons. I lay my persimmon woods out on a soft towel. I place my putter to the side. I get my warm bucket of soapy water, stiff bristle brush, and drying cloth set up along the side of my bench in the basement.

And I proceed to wash my clubs.

Golf is very important to me. Golf defines who I want to be. It is my analogy of how I must try to live my life.

I start with my driver, and as I wash and polish the cherry red of the persimmons wood - I think about faith. As I hold the driver shaft in my hand, I focus on the faith it takes to take that first step towards an objective. Usually that first step takes you the farthest, and the execution must be sufficient to provide you an opportunity to progress to the steps that follow.

From there I wash my fairway woods, where I think about opportunity. During a long par five, it's my fairway woods that offer me the greatest opportunity to increase my reward. And opportunities should not be wasted. Opportunities must be grasped and made true.

I then wash each of my long irons, one through six - each with varying degrees of loft. Each with varying degrees of distance they will carry. And I think of how far I have come, how lofty my goals have been, and how thankful that I have managed to navigate my course and still remain in play.

My short irons bring my thoughts to accuracy. Accuracy for how I approach the final steps. Accuracy for how I take those final steps for completing the task and achieving the goal. The closer I can strike to my target, the better my opportunity for accomplishment.

My wedges help me consider that those times when I miss the green, straying from my objective. Discipline and a gentle touch is required to recover from setbacks, and perhaps even surprise myself by chipping into the hole. To take a setback and turn it into a reward.

I wash my putter most delicately. I apply special softening agents to my grip, and polishing the brass face to clearly reflect on the target in sight. The putter must be used to place my shot at the target on the proper line, straight or undulating. The putter is used to close the deal. To realize the objective. It requires a gentle touch.

As I review the golf balls stored in their sleeves, I consider the integrity of how life should be lived.

Perfectly round.

And measured to ensure the roundness remains in tact. This ball, once put into play, must be played again from where it lies. No cheating. No improving my lie in ways unfair, untrue. I must remain true to myself to be judged so by others.

My gloves, shoes, tees, and other items are also cleaned and washed - as they are all those things that support me. They are those things that without, I am a lesser player in the game of life. As are my family, my friends.

Finally before I put them all away, I clean my golf bag. For this is the container that carries my tools through the round. This is my home. This is the baggage of all my possessions.

And with lesser tools I am a lesser player.

And without the integrity of these tools of my character, I am a lesser man.

But patience is also an important virtue.

And patience is best tested for a golfer by waiting out the January snow.


© 2006 - 2020 Fred Brill - all rights reserved