Driving into the office from my small basement apartment is a quick journey. I'm currently renting the lower level of a house located on top of Apple Mountain. I have views on one side looking out across Route 66 to High Knob and associated hills & ridges. On the other the valley extending out past Winchester and on into West Virginia and Maryland. How fortunate to be in this place, even for a little while!

Four or five minutes it takes me to wind down the mountain on the way to the office. Just enough time to greet the morning, to immerse myself in the natural beauty of the landscape. There's something about the texture of the land and quick elevation changes here which make my heart hum merrily on even the most inclement of days.

This morning's drive found me sorting through various thoughts: pieces of dreams, lists of things to accomplish that day, speculation on how many co-workers would actually show up for work. Typical stuff. All the while my eyes peered left and right – everywhere - except to the road ahead.

All of a sudden, into my consciousness, blasting its way front & center, popped this statement:

Life is like golf.

I chuckled. Life is like golf? Huh? "Rich, you really need a vacation," I whispered laughingly to myself.

As is my wont, I examined this odd, stream of consciousness statement. Is there some validity to be found in it? I haven't played golf since at least last Spring. Although I am taking a short holiday beginning tomorrow, golf is not in my plans. For I’m driving north into a slightly colder climate than we have here in the mountains of northern Virginia, and I wouldn't even consider playing here this time of year. If you've ever struck a golf ball off-center in thirty degree weather, similar to hitting a baseball off the end of the bat, you can attest to the experience being less than thrilling. It's called getting a stinger. No thank you.

Golf can be broken down into three separate parts which require very different skills: Driving off the tee, hitting irons into the green, chipping and putting. I've often mused that it is next to impossible for me to play a round and have these three skills running on all cylinders. I’ve never had it happen in a decade of golf, nor have any playing partners of mine ever achieved this feat. I'm not necessarily looking for the perfect round, mind you. I regularly shoot in the eighties with two sub-eighty rounds to my credit. No fantasies of playing on the Senior Tour in fourteen years for this duffer! But it would be nice to play one solid round, to be in the zone shot after shot.

So I thought about the tripartite nature of the game of golf and then moved my focus to life. Bingo! We are physical, mental and spiritual beings. We have physical, astral and causal bodies. We work, play and sleep. Unconscious, subconscious, superconscious. Three parts. Three challenges. Three vastly different realms.

I lit a cigarette (yes, I'm smoking again), enjoyed the nicotine rush and the rush provided by the lark of that strange statement which visited and entertained me on my drive into work this morning:

Life is like golf.

-- Rich (howe9@shentel.net), February 07, 2001

Answers

This is in no way meant as an offense; just an observation. (Don't you just hate it when people start off that way? [g])

In a million years, I never would have pegged you for a golfer.

Nice essay, BTW. You should keep track of these (if you don't already). Don't know that I agree that "Life is like golf", but I do believe one can liken "life" to so many things, so "golf" isn't really a stretch.

Thanks for posting this, Rich.

-- (PatriciaS@lasvegas.com), February 07, 2001.

Rich, your country is beautiful! Wifey and I went thru there last October on our way to New York. Left Idaho and drove thru Salt Lake, Dodge City, Memphis, Shiloh, Blue Ridge Parkway, Winchester, Belle Grove, Antietam, Gettysburg, D.C., N.Y, Niagra, Cleveland, Sioux City, Rapid City, Billings and back thru Lolo Pass. Seen it all but your state left a lasting impression! No wonder Gen. Lee wanted to defend it. Blue Ridge Parkway at day break with chimney smoke hangin low in the valleys is a picture now on my wall.

-- Boswell (fundown@thefarm.net), February 07, 2001.

Patricia, I am quite offended and shall never speak to you again. You are rude, abusive, pig-headed, short in stature, left-leaning...did I mention short? And you dress funny too.

It was one of the many little bizarre incidents that occur each day which makes life interesting for me. There's no point to what I wrote. It all happened within a few minutes and I thought it was typical enough of what goes on in my head that it would be cool to share.

As a kid I regarded golf with disdain. A sissy sport. I played most all sports growing up. Sunrise to sunset and beyond. It was only after learning that many athletes in major professional sports play golf and often addictedly that I began to consider taking it up myself. I figured there had to be something to it. Yup. There is.

Making a golf ball do what I want it to do consistently is the single most difficult undertaking in sports, IME. The game is as much an inner battle as it is one dealing with physics AND the elements AND the golf course. It hits me on many levels and I LIKE IT!

-- Rich (howe9@shentel.net), February 07, 2001.

Boswell, I am quite offended and shall never speak to you again. You are rude, abusive, pig-headed, rotund, right-leaning...did I mention rotund? And you dress funny too.

That was quite a lengthy trip! Musta taken several weeks, no?

I fell in love with this area the first time I saw it back in late 1996. Moved here a year later. The only other part of the country that I've seen and fell in love with is the greater Seattle area. I wouldn't be surprised to find myself living up that way someday.

-- Rich (howe9@shentel.net), February 07, 2001.

Nice description! I'm jealous of your commute. The best part of mine is sometimes seeing the colors in the clouds right before the sun rises.

Smoking, again? Get a patch, dude! They're not called "cancer sticks" for nothing. I'd like to see you live long enough to sting some of your writings into a published work.

-- kb (kb8um8@yahoo.com), February 07, 2001.

I "dress funny"?!?!? Hrmph.

OK, my commute to work is kind of amazing in its own right. (You have to understand that, until last year, my "commute to work" consisted of an eight-block walk to a subway station, then a forty- minute subway ride.) I leave the house around 6:45 AM, and these days, the sun is just beginning to peek over the tops of the mountains in the East.

I drive West and the mountains in the West are splashed pink with the sunrise. You can see the different geologic "levels" in the mountains. I have to find out what era defines each level. (I also was told that one of them, the one that looks like it had a bite taken out of it, was/is a volcano. Kinda cool.) Every now and again (depending on the wind and temperature), there will be hot air balloons floating over and in front of the mountins in the West.

I'm genuinely amazed that I somehow manage to see (and stop for!) red lights.

-- (PatriciaS@lasvegas.com), February 07, 2001.

kb, I am quite offended and shall never speak to you again. You are rude, abusive, pig-headed, emaciated, apolitical...did I mention emaciated? And you dress funny too.

I stop smoking cold turkey periodically. No patch necessary. Although I dislike the stench of smoke on my clothes, in my hair, etc., smoking does serve a purpose. When I'm ready to stop again the habit will fall off. Thank you for your concern and the kind words, kb.

-- Rich (howe9@shentel.net), February 07, 2001.

LOL! I do dress funny. Rude and abusive? Hardy.

Patricia, I'll trade you commutes. I haven't seen balloons in ages.

-- kb (kb8um8@yahoo.com), February 07, 2001.

kb, my favorite is the big yellow one with the "smiley face" on it.

It's just so cool, especially for someone from Brooklyn. I love the scenery out here. I stand outside and look at palm trees in front of me, with mountains in the distance.

Still missing that beach, though.....

-- (PatriciaS@lasvegas.com), February 07, 2001.

You have to be missing the food, Patricia. Hell, I even miss the pretzels sold all over Manhattan by street vendors. Whenever I get up there I buy a half-dozen to take home. Funny how they never seem to make it all the way back to VA.

-- Rich (howe9@shentel.net), February 07, 2001.

Yes, Rich, I definitely miss the food. I notice it alot at lunch time when I can't just walk across the street to the "corner deli" and get a sandwich. Or to the "corner pizzeria" and get a decent slice.

It's a production here (drive, turn, park.....).

Fortunately, I have found a couple of restaurants that serve excellent food for dinner (we ate at one of them that weekend you were all here). They aren't too pricey (by NYC standards) and the service is 1000% better (anything outside of Manhattan has "better service").

Yeah, I really miss those pretzels................

-- (PatriciaS@lasvegas.com), February 07, 2001.

Still missing that beach, though.....

Take a run out to Meade, Patricia. Granted it's a poor substitute, but at least it'll tide you over till you can make it down here to a "REAL" beach ;-)

-- CD (costavike@hotmail.com), February 07, 2001.

The cool one around here is the multi-colored Re-Max balloon, followed by a purple and white one owned by several doctors. In the early spring, balloonists launch out by the dam on the weekends. Sometimes I see them if I'm out getting groceries early on Saturday morning. I guess they start competing in the trials then before the big races in June(?) I would like to learn more about the sporting side of it.

-- kb (kb8um8@yahoo.com), February 07, 2001.

[I posted that wondering how long it would take CD to step in with a suggestion ;-)]

I'm scheduled for a week off in March. Lake Mead is on my list of Things To Do (and the weather should be perfect). Might as well check out the dam while I'm there. I mean, I will be here a year, and I still haven't driven down to see it.

Dunce.....

-- (PatriciaS@lasvegas.com), February 07, 2001.

[I posted that wondering how long it would take CD to step in with a suggestion ;-)]

LOL. I may be predictable Patricia, but at least I don't "dress funny".

I would suggest you make a weekend out of your trip to Meade. If you can swing a boat rental, there's nothing like finding a secluded sandy cove and spending a 100 degree night under the stars with good company and a couple bottles of wine.

Although I never took the tour of the dam, I did manage to take a boat trip up-river to the base of it. Technically this was illegal but I was with a former dam employee who was able to "swing it" for us. A very impressive sight. Have fun.

-- CD (costavike@hotmail.com), February 07, 2001.

CD, you ignorant slut. You may not dress funny but you do eat funny. I've seen you inhale TV dinners without benefit of utensils. I've seen you look left and right and then dive face first into the mashed potatoes and cherry cobbler. Sloppy! No wonder Debra has yet to yield to your advances.

And what, praytell, does Lake Meade have to do with this thread? Hmm? There's a theme going here, buster. Three. Three. Three. Pretzels fit in here because they have three segments, Mister.

That's it! I shan't ever speak to you again.

-- Rich (howe9@shentel.net), February 07, 2001.

LOL Rich. (Damn. And here I thought I was being low-key enough to dodge your abuse on this thread.)

I must say however, that I resent your critisicm of the fact that I occasionally do not use utensils while dining. It's simply one in a long list of ingenious labor-saving ideas we die-hard bachelors can employ. Why wash/dry/put-away utensils when you don't have to? (I would however, splurge and set out utensils in the event Debra was joining me for a "Swanson" some evening.)

But enough of this nonsense. There's a theme to this thread and I must go ponder the meaning of three...

-- CD (costavike@hotmail.com), February 07, 2001.

Thanks for the compliments Rich, that was very kind of you. I'm rude abusive and pigheaded only to left-wingers and walking abortions but not to everyone. Rotund I am not, because I do work hard at manual labor and it does keep me in shape. For that I am grateful. And yes we did drive over seven thousand miles to see this wonderful country. It's the first trip we've been on in 32 years of marriage and it won't be forgotten. Especially the Civil War Battlefields. Most people under 30 don't even know what Antietam is. What a shame considering the human suffering that went on there and other battlefields as well.

-- Boswell (fundown@thefarm.net), February 07, 2001.

Golf isn't so hard to play. Just last week I hit a 72, then a 67.

This weekend I'm gong out again to play the third and fourth holes. :-)

-- Malcolm Taylor (taylorm@es.co.nz), February 07, 2001.

LOL! Malcolm!!

Well, that just shows ya how much golf is like life... sometimes it takes a long time to learn that there are more clubs in the bag than just the putter :-)

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), February 07, 2001.