Saturday, June 17, 2006

Tiger, your dad's still proud, but I still hate you

I have mixed feelings about Tiger Woods missing the US Open cut at Winged Foot.

On one hand, I always like seeing him struggle. I cheered him on early in his career, but as he became more and more invincible and more arrogant, I liked him less and less. On the other hand, I feel for him because he just lost his dad. Golf was a bonding experience for me and my father, and I can imagine the disappointment Tiger must feel, as if maybe he let his dad down by missing the cut. Something tells me Tiger's dad is proud no matter what.

I consider myself a "Phil guy." I've always liked lefties because my dad is one. I like Phil's cheesy grin and "every guy look," what with the man boobies and paunch and all. It will be tough for Phil to come back from +3, but wouldn't that be a great story!

All in all, I like watching the major tournaments because all the pros tend to struggle in them. I laugh when they sometimes say the course isn't fair and when the commentators say the course is embarrassing the players. Now they feel how most of us do when we struggle through practically each and every round we play!

It's great seeing guys that shoot 20-under in the normal tour events come to a major, flub shots out of the rough, and miss four foot putts that they could normally make in their sleep. Seeing the "best in the world" throw their clubs in disgust and sulk around the course is always entertaining to me.

Friday, June 16, 2006

I thought Harry Caray was dead!


I ran across this photo of legendary film director Martin Scorsese while viewing this photo album.

I've been seeing these huge eyeglasses like Scorsese is wearing a lot lately. Are they coming back in style? I assumed Harry Caray wore them a) because they were part of his persona and b) because he needed huge glasses to be able to see the field while he called ballgames.

I actually kind of like huge spectacles. They make people look a bit like what I think aliens might look like if I woke up from a dream about my grandfather and saw an alien sitting on my bed.

I wear glasses, but they are the itty bitty ones that were in style (I think) several years ago. I guess I'll have to pick up a pair of windshields when these wear out.

Arlo and the Tadpole

Dear Readers,

Even though there aren't any of you just yet, I hope there will be soon.

For my first post, I thought I would tell a little story. Here goes...

Arlo and the Tadpole
by
Fester Farquhar

One day there was a pointy headed little boy named Arlo. Arlo was a strange child. He spent most of his free time straining water to find tadpoles, but he never seemed to find any. He found many other objects - jewelry, used bullet casings, even whole frogs - but never any tadpoles.

Arlo's parents were concerned about him. His mother pointed out that he was straining distilled water and that it was unlikely he would find any tadpoles in it.

Arlo realized she was right, but he didn't care. Arlo told his mother that no matter how well distilled the water was, someday he would find a tadpole in it.

Finally, one spring afternoon, Arlo finally strained a tadpole from the daily allotment of 5 gallons of distilled water that his parents provided to him. He was so happy! He played and talked to the tadpole. He even considered eating it. Arlo was too smart for that though.

After his initial celebration, Arlo calmly went into the house and called the family attorney. Subsequently, Arlo and his family sued the water distiller for millions and won.

A now very wealthy Arlo gave up water straining. He turned to more productive hobbies such as stamp collecting and hole digging. Later he went to a fine college and became a world class dog trainer and competition archer.

Arlo often wondered what happened to the little tadpole. To preserve it for evidence, he had put it in a plastic bag and stuck it in the freezer. After he testified at the trial, Arlo never saw the little tadpole corpse again.

Arlo died after a long and fruitful life at the ripe age of 89. He passed with four children, seven grandchildren, and eighteen grandchildren - all pointy headed - at his bedside. His last words were, "I love you all. The little tadpole served this family well. I hope...I...see him...again...in heaven...."

THE END