My Golf Problem

There are few things more intimidating to me than a golf course - my blood pressure shoots up about 50 points just driving past them.

The manicured, emerald fairways, the parking lot of Lexuses and BMWs, the expensive clubs, the expensive shoes.

We haven’t even begun to discuss the actual skill required to play.

I will admit: I don’t put a great deal of effort into getting better. I play once, maybe twice, a year. I might hit the driving range, like I did last week with my son, another time. (Note: He’s way better than me, and he’s 10.) My clubs are hand-me-downs from a brother-in-law. They were probably made in the 1970s and built for someone six inches shorter than me.

The best thing about my game is my bag, and it’s getting moldy from being kept in the garage.

But, despite my lack of practice, I remain confounded by the fact that it is so difficult to hit a golf ball straight. Perhaps this is because I assume that my ability to play other sports is reasonably good, and I believe, somehow, that this will translate into being a halfway decent golfer. This is a foolish theory. But I guess there is still some part of me that believes that, one of these years when I go out and play, it will all suddenly fall into place, or, at least, I will no longer lose one ball per hole in the woods.

Typically, I play nine holes. Eighteen, I feel, is just prolonging the pain. Usually, I hold my own on Par Three holes, but long drives destroy my score. Once I take out my driver, it’s Slice City. If you have picked up one of the many golf balls that I have lost in the weeds, or out of bounds somewhere behind a tree, you’re welcome.

Would lessons help? Probably. But the stubborn side of me thinks I can self-correct. This line of thought likely originates from the same area in my brain as my unwillingness to ask for directions when I’m lost on vacation, or solicit help when I’m in the hardware store, which my kids are always telling me to do. “Just ask someone, Dad,” they say. But I CAN DO THIS is generally my mental state.

Only, with golf, I can’t.

Besides being basically impossible, golf comes with etiquette issues, which are annoying. In addition to the collared shirt and golf spikes, you can’t do certain things, such as talk when other people are swinging, or even warming up to swing, or sometimes while driving the golf cart to the next hole. You can barely breathe audibly. It’s a lot of energy wasted, censoring yourself like this. I once got yelled at – okay, “reminded” – to not walk on the green in the line of someone else’s ball even though they were not shooting. I was confused… were we on a municipal golf course or the PGA Tour?

Somehow, I think I might fare better if there were very large speakers blaring music toward the tee box. People could throw small objects at me. This would distract me just enough from having to remember all of the things I usually forget to do – keeping my head down while I swing, following through properly, standing with my feet the right distance apart, etc.

Then, there’s the financial aspect. Golf requires a significant investment to get better, whereas playing most other sports don’t require $40 or more to merely play each time. I have a fundamental problem paying money to do something I’m bad at.

I would just as soon take the $40 and go directly to the clubhouse, where I can enjoy lunch while watching professionals play, on TV.

It is a little comforting to know that there are many other people who play golf who are as bad as me. Some of them even appear to enjoy it. I asked one guy what his secret was, and he said, “Don’t keep score.”

Now there’s a tip that doesn’t require lessons.

Sent from my iPhone

The Meteorologist In Us All

Everyone's a meteorologist.

I know this because trained, professional meteorologists predicted recently that a substantial winter storm was coming to Connecticut, with a "plowable" amount of snow.

Since when, by the way, did we start calling snow “plowable?”

Anyway...

The more interesting thing was that, in addition to this television broadcast, I heard four different forecasts from people I know who are not trained, professional meteorologists.

One said that we were supposed to get over a foot.

Another said we were getting 8 to 12 inches.

Another said the weather system was blowing out to sea.

Another, citing the European model, was not ready to make a commitment, but heard of the impending storm, and was prepared to go on the record with something official after the next update in six hours.

The most amusing part of all this confusion was that the non-professional people – otherwise known as “ordinary citizens” - started making predictions approximately a week in advance of the alleged weather event. A week! There is no scientific way that even trained, professional meteorologists can make accurate predictions a week from the expected impact. (Let's debunk the Farmer’s Almanac right now.) But, all it takes is one quick, casual "looks like a storm MAY be headed our way next weekend" type of comment and suddenly we are bracing for record snowfall, record cold, a sleet pellet, a gust of wind, lower than normal barometric pressure, an icicle may form, etc.

So, yes, it's important to place some of the blame here on the media. How can you not, when the top story on TV news is weather-related 99.4 percent of the time. This has been known to happen on warm, pleasant days.

Sample anchor to meteorologist conversation:

"Look, Gerry, a third day that we've come within two degrees of the all-time, historic average."

"The average? But doesn't that mean everything's normal?"

"Yes! But we have had consistently average readings now for THREE STRAIGHT DAYS!"

 "Wow, that is remarkable... Now onto a developing story out of Enfield, where there is confirmed evidence that Martians have landed on I-91, stopping four lanes of traffic. Our Weather Watcher Bob has taken some grainy pictures that rival the 1969 Northern California camera footage of Bigfoot."

If you watch the weather a lot, you know that this is basically true.

Seriously, though, keeping an eye on the weather is a primary source of entertainment for those who, come winter, do not or cannot escape the Northeast for warmer climates. Media outlets of course know this, and in their quest for higher ratings, they are constantly renaming their radar technology. What was once just plain Doppler radar has become 3-D First Alert Exact Track Live Pinpoint Doppler, and - actually I find this to be pretty cool - it can show if a funnel cloud is currently swallowing your house. You don't even have to look out the window.

Last week, I noticed that one local station now has an SUV that actually looks like it is equipped to chase tornados. It has various antennas, little satellites, and huge lightning bolts on the doors. Actually, I'm not sure about the lightning bolts, but I believe there were two huge speakers mounted on the vehicle’s roof featuring a looped recording that the end of the world is drawing near, so you better fill up on yummy stuff like bread and milk while you can.

So, you can see how this endless cycle, which grows more intense each year, turns everyone into a meteorologist. We all want to know when the world is going to end. Or at least we want to know when the first snowflake, which will undoubtedly lead to the end of the world, will fall.

The Magic of Harry Potter

First, a few facts upfront.

I am a teacher.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone came out the year I started teaching, in 1998.

I have never really been a fan of fantasy fiction.

The most involvement I'd had with Harry Potter was reading aloud chapter one of the first book and, back when you could do this, bring students to see the movie on a field trip.

OK, fast forward 15 years. I have a son, who is 9. In November, it was time for a new book to read aloud. I offered Harry Potter - not, obviously, because I liked it, but to kind of see if he would even be interested -  and he agreed.

It took about a month, but we recently finished it. And now he's onto the second book. On his own.

I now see what the big deal was all about - especially for children. Rowling touches on all the things that make for great children's literature. Likable characters, good and evil, a fantastic setting, children at the heart of a story, and a challenging plot. It is interesting to note that the reading level is 6.7, while kids who read it are often much younger.  Nonetheless, my son, who mostly likes nonfiction (he has dozens of books containing sports facts published by Sports Illustrated) and fiction stories like Babe and Me, in which the plot line is about sports, to my surprise, is enthralled.

Perhaps we would have found another great classic - of which I am now convinced Harry Potter is. A Wrinkle in Time? A Narnia book? Maybe another book would have clicked that switch for my son, the one that encouraged him to move from a solid reader of certain topics in his interest area to a passionate reader. He is 145 pages into Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, and talking about part three.

All of this is very cool. It is what you hope for when you help your children - or students - read. Find a series, author, or theme that interests them, and let them go, let them loose, to become independent readers.

So thanks, JK Rowling, for creating your stories at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm glad I've finally gotten around to reading them.