Jeez.
I was flushed with excitement to share my golfing anecdote. I decided to take a chance, roll the creative dice, and not worry whether I might crap out.
Maybe the writing was a bit loose. Maybe my creativity, scant as it is, has just pooped out.
I’m not privy to the reasons for the group’s indifference. But the deafening silence has wiped the smile from my face. I am become the butt of your jokes.
Well, at least I tried. You won’t hear me grunting about it again.
In an unrelated matter, some of you may be members of the Ruffed Grouse Society. Bob West’s article in its Summer, 2008 magazine has a lot of local flavor, featuring a pup that is a granddaughter of Buster, a dog that has swum in the Tantillo pond and made a terrific wc retrieve for Keith. Read all about it here.
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3 comments:
Hey Mike, I like the pretty pictures!
I think I was disappointed with your golf story because it started out conceptually as, "Dear Sir, I always thought your letters to the editor were just too crazy to be true, but last week I had the most amazing encounter at a dive bar in Northern Mexico ..."
... but then your tale veered way off the assumed course into a cautionary tale about personal hygiene.
Frankly, I felt like I fell for the ol' bait and switch.
Hey, did I ever tell you guys about this crazy thing that happened to me when my car broke down near Wells College late one winter night in '94 ...
Oh, so now we have hotties and hurt feelings. Dangerous, dangerous brew.
Thanks for the link to the story Mike!! Youse outta come out to the finger lakes for a spell, do some fishin' and hangin' out. I'm sure I could convince Stedman to come up to join in for a drink, hell, even Kleinman will be here this weekend.
These posts are so "classic Mr. Mike" that you don't need to sign them. Did you get one of those inspirational calendars for x-mas... in the past decade?
Good to have you back.
- Envious
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