When life is rough, play golf

/in /by

I was standing in the teeing area trying to figure out the best approach to get my ball where I wanted it to go.

Once I settled on an approach, I pulled my driver, set the tee and my ball.

As the old joke goes, I addressed the ball – “Hello ball.”

I gave a practice swing to make sure I had the right form. I didn’t but I never have. But I keep trying to do so.

I pulled back my driver and brought it down to hit the ball just right. I love the sound when it hits just right and off into the sky the ball flies. I look trying to follow the ball and it veers from center headed towards the rough on the left side of the fairway.

My plan and swing had failed to propel me in line with the hole. Was it my swing? Maybe the wind? Could it have been my driver?

In all seriousness, it was all these things, they all played a part in where the ball flew and landed.

The greatest not mentioned was my skill as a golfer, which I am the first to say is non-existent beyond having an outstanding grip on the club. After that its all down hill.

I have however hit a few good drives and quite a few outstanding putts along the way. Though I have frustrated some very good golfers making the score go the wrong way for the team.

Why do people spend so much time chasing a little golf egg around this long green pasture where gophers left holes and people stuck flags in them so people wouldn’t step in them?

Well perhaps its our present-day self reaching back to the inner history of our spirit which remembers the endless days of our ancestors roaming through nature in search of game to put on the table to survive. Since many no longer fulfill that activity, golfing provides an alternative mechanism to sustain that internal feeling. We even call it shooting a round of golf.

I wish I could say I have learned some lessons that I could impart to you about my times on the back nine, but unfortunately, other than avoiding the alligators when golfing in Florida, I’ve got nothing.

However, I have learned that many business deals are shaped on the course, so perhaps that is a lesson. If you are young man in a profession that is made in the deals then be sure you can play a round of golf.

Can I convey a life lesson – enjoy your time on this earth. If you like being outside, find a pastime that will fill your soul with the warmth of happiness that refills your engine. Golf is it for some, for others its hiking, others gardening, others …. the list is endless. Find those that uplift you and press on, just watch out for those not watching out for you. Fore!!!

Tarry a little longer

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I recently sat in the pew for a funeral listening to the preachers and speakers as they focused on the amazing life of a friend, colleague and co-author – the late Ringgold Mayor Joe Barger.

We spent nearly a year working weekly creating his autobiography – Testing the Metal of Life.

One line from the speakers really stuck with me shared by speaker Gary Knowles – he closed with the line tarry a little longer, when speaking about how he regretted not spending a little more time with the deceased when he passed by seeing him working out in his yard.

That stuck with me – everyday our lives take us by people’s houses. We see folks on the street, in the store or around town. Sometimes its people we see often, sometimes its an unusual crossing of paths.

What do you do? Do you wave and keep going? Do you stop and make small talk? Do you really greet an old friend and spend some time, maybe ask them to join you for lunch or coffee?

A few minutes can tell us a lot about other people’s circumstances. With the seasons of life, people move into and out of our lives and we lose touch.

They stay with us in mind as we last left them. As the years pass we picture them as we last saw them, so we can sometimes be surprised by what we find if they pop up unexpected.

Do or did they mean something in your life?

Are they older? Are they your age?

If you think about it, we all have people in our lives of all ages, from all phases, that we wish we could have spent a few more minutes with, when they were gone.

Just a few more words, another afternoon fishing, a ballgame, a dance, time around the kitchen table sharing stories, a walk in the woods, just sitting and not saying anything could have meant the world to any of us when we look down into their closed eyes in a casket.

In short, the message to all of us is clear, if someone’s means something to you, don’t hurry, don’t rush, just tarry a little longer. You never know when it might be the last time you see them.

Sometimes a statement is just that

/in /by

Conversations have always been a two-way street.
One person says something, another returns. Many times these moments pass in full agreement with both parties who are speaking totally in agreement on the topic.
Just the same, in a moment total agreement might turn on a dime and become a disagreement.
Where do these come from? Is it buried in the conversation? Is it the opinion expressed by one of the participants?  Is it a misunderstanding?
We have all experienced such. Sometimes they come up out of nowhere. Sometimes they are carefully crafted with selected words to entice just such a reaction.
Some folks enjoy creating strife or conflict. They draw a pleasure out of participating within the verbal joust between competitors.
I think sometimes especially among men who are not friends, there is almost a sense that conflict is how we are suppose to interact. After all we are trained that from childhood. Compete and come out on top in whatever our endeavor – sports, business, war, or even choosing a mate. There is nothing wrong with this thinking. It has stood the test of time to be a way to bring up the men we need to build and protect our society.
I am sad to say though, I am seeing fewer and fewer who are able to meet those expectations.
No matter the situation though, the ability to carry on civil conversations without coming to a disagreement is one that must be a constant effort of every man.
In a time when our country seems to be divided on many issues, perhaps all men and women need to reflect upon those that have come before and their sacrifices to America.
We are all Americans, we must not allow people to divide us into groups who disagree and fight with one another over petty issues. I recently saw a man’s testimony on social media saying that what is important is keeping our America a float and not allow it to sink under the weight of what is being done to us by those in positions of power.
We can battle over this way is right or that way is right. What I see is those we have put in charge don’t know the way and we are following them blindly into a dead end alley.
What will be our fate in that alley? I don’t know, I just hope that once we are there, we realize we are all there together and must work together, converse together to figure out how we might get out of there together as Americans.

Riding the pinto home

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If we are to realize what is before us, sometimes we must look back.
One of my fascinations since I was first handed the keys to my first car, a Ford Pinto, I looked out from the driveway thinking, I now have the freedom to go anywhere the road takes me.
Of course, that was a little over stated in my 17-year-old mind. There was a little thing like, how do I pay for gas, insurance, tires. I had to get to work on time. I have a project due at school. I guess this means I need a parking pass at High School now.
So, freedom wasn’t really free.
Despite those limitations, I still did have the ability to go places on my own.
While the vehicle bought at auction was not the hottest ride on the teenage scene and it certainly was not going to bring about the potential of any dates.
Four wheels and an engine were much better than pedaling or being driven by a parent.
Whenever I was able to reach the outskirts of the suburban life my parent’s had built outside Atlanta back towards the Appalachian hills of home, I always breathed a little easier. The green fields and the mountains made me feel better.
As the blacktops turned to gravel or dirt, its amazing how those changes made my heart grow the desire to just sit on top of a mountain and look off into the distance.
Of course, where our folks came from, you didn’t just sit on anyone’s mountain.
When you turned up a road before long everybody knew you were there and headed his or her way.
They knew if you friend, foe, kin or a lost stranger and soon had you sized up.
Friends and kin would see folks waving. If the road was a one lane and you met another, one of you would back up until the other could pass.
That of course gave an opportunity to pass the time of day, find out how their mom and them were, how’s the fishing, if anyone was sick back up that way.
The visit might even get you an invite to dinner, or a suggestion about a neighbor needing help with some chores.
If you were foe, needless to say, the waves would turn into leering stern looks depending on how much of a foe.
Strangers were given grace to a point until they realized when they got to the end of the road, they were either at someone’s house or someone’s closed gate. Then a bit of stern kindness “Neighbor, where are you trying to get to? – Who are going to see there? – Well, let me tell you how to get there.”
As soon as they wave you out of sight, they are burning up the phone lines to check on whomever you mentioned to let them know.
No matter the experience, the country road, the mountains, the streams uplifted my spirits and strengthened my being.
While the years are long gone from those days with the Ford Pinto, I still point my vehicle towards those old familiar mountain paths. More are paved, folks don’t take the time with each other they once did, but the underlying caring still remains. The pleasant encounters, the laughing with old friends, the occasional pickin’ and grinnin’ still remain and bring me smiles of the heart! That’s something we all need. You may not find yours where I find mine, but you should look just the same until you do.
So, get on your pinto and ride man, ride.