A bit of baseball trivia for my readership -- Wally Pipps was the first baseman until he was out sick and an 'unknown' took his place and never relinquished the position .... (for a chance to play with us on Saxon - and a bite of B's bagel (although for the record - it was a banana today .... who was this unknown?)
A great commercial recreated this historic moment -- when someone calls in sick to his boss - who responds - "Don't worry - Bob from Account Temps is here." And how quickly the person on the phone recovered so as not to be replaced.
We met our own Wally or if you'd want to be contemporary - our own "Bob." His name is Bill and he replaced Les this week. Bill is GREAT! He is a very courteous golfer - always first on the tee and hits without a warm up swing. Moved the game along so we played in a record 4 hrs and 20 min. He has a very good sense of humor and entertained us with stories. Bill is also an excellent golfer who is very self-effacing (good SAT word). Bill's from Chappaqua - a tad older - a grandpa - and a true pleasure to play with. I introduced myself as 'Chip' and for the first few holes - that's how he referred to me ... although B kept calling me by my 'old name.' Bill said with a 'hurt expression' - I guess your friends get to call you Bernie while strangers call you Chip. By the 9th hole - he too was calling me Bernie. At the end of 18 - we were very sorry to say good-bye to our Buddy Bill and I gave him my business card - asking in a hopeful voice - that maybe he'd like to play with us again. Within 2 hours I received an e-mail from him - saying he'd be delighted to play - anytime we needed a 'sub.'
Les - be forewarned about scheduling business trips and B - so you really want to miss every Sunday in July to go on some 'vacation.' I'm guessing that Bill will be back - and probably will be hosting the annual b-q at the end of the season. (Demographic information - Bill lives in Chappaqua since 1975. He is a commodities trader when he's not hitting the links. He will definitely be joining us for annual birthday celebrations (a bit of a redundancy don't you think) and family events - weddings, graduations .....
Perfect weather for golf -- started off a bit buggy, but as soon as the sun burned through the mist, it was a 10. That was also the score I got on every hole - and ended up with 180 which may be 'lucky' in the Jewish religion but was by far my worst outing. Bill was understanding and very supportive. I'd say honors went to Rich -- who was belting the ball, as well as making some great putts. (He's obviously taking to heart by weekly 'sign off.'
OPPORTUNITY .... thanks to Judi, we took advantage of what was likely to be a 'last opportunity of a lifetime.' Judi encouraged/insisted that we should take my father (89 y/o ) to the Bar Mitzvah of his sister's grandson. (can a genealogist please tell me what that relationship is -- a 'grand uncle?') My mother would not be able to make the trip - so we had to coordinate and get Charlene (their other daughter) to stay with her. The Bar Mitzvah was at Brandeis University, (Judi's Alma mater ... and we did get to walk the campus) - 4 hours away - and we were going to do it in one day. (Especially now knowing that Bill is just waiting to do a Lou Gehrig - good thing I was back in time for golf.) We picked my father up at 8:30 am ... and only made 2 pit stops (I would have bet many more) ... got to the hotel where my Aunt was staying at 12:30. It was a Kodak moment when my father saw my Aunt (his younger sister - 82 y/o and the only remaining sibling -- there were 4 of them). My Aunt is in a wheel chair - living in a nursing home in Philadelphia and unfortunately has many serious health issues. The smiles on their faces when they saw each other for the first time in 2 years -- only to be topped by their breaking into Yiddish songs - which is something very special between them since they were kids . They spent a few hours alone (with her aide - sharing lunch, looking at the 'stuff' my father brought with him, and reminiscing. The unspoken was that this is very likely the last time they'll see each other -- and what a wonderful memory for all. We left the house at 7:30 am and got back close to 1:00 am the next morning .... and Judi -- THANK-YOU. We can all write our own a moral to this story.
So as Rich has learned to do -- hope you all can keep your "Drives Long and you Putts Short."
Chipster out.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
Memorial Day Week-End
As Jerry would say .... golf this week-end was a story about 'nothing'. The weather was great - a bit cloudy, warm enough for all of us to show some skin (wore shorts) and we played in a very reasonable 4 hrs and 30 minutes .... never seeing the foursome in front of us. Dom got us off as soon as we arrived -- warming up is not something we get to do and from my perspective - 'much overrated'.
One of us woke up early Sunday morning and experienced the challenges of having college age children transition from 'complete freedom' while away at school to returning home and being expected to live with certain 'rules' . . (Forget about the fact that this 'child' was AWOL and the car was missing -- the real problem was that the golf clubs were in the trunk of the car. We commiserated with our friend, all of us having lived through situations like this.)
What I really want to reflect upon is Memorial Day. My father is a veteran on WW 2 and takes great pride wearing his veterans cap and having strangers come up to him and say thank-you. I, on the other hand, did whatever I could to prevent getting drafted and stay out of the Vietnam War. During that time - the lottery was in effect - and the number chosen was a good indicator of whether you'd be drafted. I'll never forget being 17 y/o - a counselor in the Riverdale Y Day Camp - and learning what my number was - while my group was on an overnight at the campgrounds. Having many good friends who were the same age - we all waited anxiously, while a designated person listened to the drawing of numbers. How mixed were the emotions as most of the guys (girls were not drafted) were given 'high numbers' - but their celebration was muted as my number was told to me --- Mickey Mantle's number -- 7. I came home the next day -- to my parent's crying and a bit of the 'bubble' I had been living burst. Ultimately - my college/grad school deferment lasted long enough for the draft to be ended .... but that didn't help the thousands of lives lost in that war.
I contrast my experience with that of one of my son's best friends in college - a roommate and someone he considers as his brother. Matt comes from a military family and was ROTC. We went to his ROTC graduation ceremony and his father who served as a chaplain in the military had the honor of giving his son his diploma.
Matt is an aviator in the Navy. He has spent these past two years training in Florida and in June will get his 'wings' and go to California before he is sent overseas. Matt puts a 'face' on the war in Iraq and Afghanistan for me. He is a great 'kid' and like so many other 'great kids' - will be defending our nation. I pause on this Memorial Day to thank the "Matts" , to do what strangers do when they see my 89 y/o father with his veterans cap -- to say thank you to those who have served our country and to wish an end to these wars.
So to my loyal readership - no 'cute stories' this week -- a time to reflect and say thank you .
Chip out!
One of us woke up early Sunday morning and experienced the challenges of having college age children transition from 'complete freedom' while away at school to returning home and being expected to live with certain 'rules' . . (Forget about the fact that this 'child' was AWOL and the car was missing -- the real problem was that the golf clubs were in the trunk of the car. We commiserated with our friend, all of us having lived through situations like this.)
What I really want to reflect upon is Memorial Day. My father is a veteran on WW 2 and takes great pride wearing his veterans cap and having strangers come up to him and say thank-you. I, on the other hand, did whatever I could to prevent getting drafted and stay out of the Vietnam War. During that time - the lottery was in effect - and the number chosen was a good indicator of whether you'd be drafted. I'll never forget being 17 y/o - a counselor in the Riverdale Y Day Camp - and learning what my number was - while my group was on an overnight at the campgrounds. Having many good friends who were the same age - we all waited anxiously, while a designated person listened to the drawing of numbers. How mixed were the emotions as most of the guys (girls were not drafted) were given 'high numbers' - but their celebration was muted as my number was told to me --- Mickey Mantle's number -- 7. I came home the next day -- to my parent's crying and a bit of the 'bubble' I had been living burst. Ultimately - my college/grad school deferment lasted long enough for the draft to be ended .... but that didn't help the thousands of lives lost in that war.
I contrast my experience with that of one of my son's best friends in college - a roommate and someone he considers as his brother. Matt comes from a military family and was ROTC. We went to his ROTC graduation ceremony and his father who served as a chaplain in the military had the honor of giving his son his diploma.
Matt is an aviator in the Navy. He has spent these past two years training in Florida and in June will get his 'wings' and go to California before he is sent overseas. Matt puts a 'face' on the war in Iraq and Afghanistan for me. He is a great 'kid' and like so many other 'great kids' - will be defending our nation. I pause on this Memorial Day to thank the "Matts" , to do what strangers do when they see my 89 y/o father with his veterans cap -- to say thank you to those who have served our country and to wish an end to these wars.
So to my loyal readership - no 'cute stories' this week -- a time to reflect and say thank you .
Chip out!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
COMMUNITY
This is a direct quote from a faithful reader: "I don't want to put too much pressure on you, but you can't just stop and leave your readers' hanging. It is like if the Mets just decided not to play any more baseball this season or if Obama decided just not to show up to work ...."
My apologies to this and the scores of other loyal readers whose world has been turned upside down because it is now Wednesday and I haven't blogged about Sunday's experience. Even I need the occasional 'outside verification' of the importance this blog has to so many people and I am truly sorry for any inconvenience, sleepless nights, free floating anxiety and suicidal ideation that may be attributed to my tardiness. (Our psychology consultant in the Baltimore region is available to provide evidenced based treatment to anyone whose issues over the lateness of this blog continues to affect their activities of daily living)
ON A SERIOUS NOTE - this past Sunday morning was the annual Marisa Run. A yearly event that marks the tragedy that befell a very close friend whose daughter lost her life (19 years old) after succumbing to the toxic affects of medications she was taken to combat her second bout of Hodgins. Those of us who lived through that unimaginable period of Marisa's illness, compounded by her mother's multiple hospitalizations and ultimate death that was taking place concurrently will never forget. Only Dave knows where he got the strength to continue, and to touch so many young lives - HS students who 'owe' their futures to the caring of Mr. G, to the countless numbers of babies he helped to deliver - in the public hospitals of NYC or in the bowels of Africa. And we, his friends from childhood - who stood ready to do what we could for Sharon and Marisa - how did we cope - because of the caring and comfort we gave to each other -- because we were - and still are - a " community".
The sense of Community extends to the gym where I go - every morning at 4:45 am. There are at least 10 of us who are 'hard core' spinners ... we look out for each other ... we respect each other's turf (you won't see one of us get one a bike that is used by another spinner) ... and we care. Although we don't know each other's names - if someone tries to remove a towel we've place on the bike to reserve it (class doesn't start until 6 am) they have to deal with all of us.
We've spoken of our Golf Community in past blogs -- where the Starter (Dom - or Di Di) looks out for us .... where we try to 'brown' the ranger so he doesn't yell at us .... where we now the best places to take a piss.
Community - a sense of belonging - having people care about you and you them -- isn't that what everyone yearns for -- and how lucky is the person that is involved in multiple communities.
ONTO GOLF: There is one loyal reader whose only interest is in the golf segment of this blog and questions the need for 'and more.' I would encourage that reader to broaden his/her horizons, get out more, discover the wonders of the world - be it in museums, restaurants, street fairs, or Central Park. For it may be hard for him/her to understand this -- but there is more to life than Golf.
That said - Rich and I couldn't let a week go by and not play golf - so we arranged tee time after the Marisa Run. We played at a different course (Sprain - which was once a strong consideration for the site of the Masters) and to our pleasant surprise - despite a week of rain - the course was dry and played short. It was also like playing golf in a nature preserve. At one point - I was hitting a shot surrounded by geese, a robin, a muskrat, and a 'fake coyote'.
Rich proved the theory -- Bigger is Better -- untrue. He kept his big stick in the bag and used his 3 wood and consistently drove the ball 200 + yards and straight down the middle. We had another player join us for the first 9 holes - and then left - complaining about pains in his back. If Joe is reading this blog - and I have no doubt that he is -- lose the cigarettes on the course and smoke stogies like the 'big boys' do.
We had been warned about playing Sprain on a Sunday afternoon -- with prognostications (SAT word) of a 6 hour round. That prediction - like the weather - turned out to be false. The weather was supposed to turn sunny and warm -- it was rainy and could. The round took us 4 hours and 20 minutes -- another new record. I had another 'by-by' and a few pars ... that made a couple of 7's easier to handle.
It was strange playing at Sprain - because we weren't part of that "COMMUNITY". we didn't know the starter, weren't sure of the protocols and 'nobody new our name.' Joe did ask if I got the nick name Chip because I was playing well (chipping well) around the green. I told him no - that my name went from Charles, to Charlie.
This upcoming Sunday (Memorial Day Week-end) will feature a bar b que at Dan Forman's lake house after the round of golf. I believe Rich sent him the e-mail, and his secretary will read it to him.
So to all those who have found COMMUNITIES and all of us still searching, I say:
Keep your drives long and straight and your putts short and true.
the Chipster
My apologies to this and the scores of other loyal readers whose world has been turned upside down because it is now Wednesday and I haven't blogged about Sunday's experience. Even I need the occasional 'outside verification' of the importance this blog has to so many people and I am truly sorry for any inconvenience, sleepless nights, free floating anxiety and suicidal ideation that may be attributed to my tardiness. (Our psychology consultant in the Baltimore region is available to provide evidenced based treatment to anyone whose issues over the lateness of this blog continues to affect their activities of daily living)
ON A SERIOUS NOTE - this past Sunday morning was the annual Marisa Run. A yearly event that marks the tragedy that befell a very close friend whose daughter lost her life (19 years old) after succumbing to the toxic affects of medications she was taken to combat her second bout of Hodgins. Those of us who lived through that unimaginable period of Marisa's illness, compounded by her mother's multiple hospitalizations and ultimate death that was taking place concurrently will never forget. Only Dave knows where he got the strength to continue, and to touch so many young lives - HS students who 'owe' their futures to the caring of Mr. G, to the countless numbers of babies he helped to deliver - in the public hospitals of NYC or in the bowels of Africa. And we, his friends from childhood - who stood ready to do what we could for Sharon and Marisa - how did we cope - because of the caring and comfort we gave to each other -- because we were - and still are - a " community".
The sense of Community extends to the gym where I go - every morning at 4:45 am. There are at least 10 of us who are 'hard core' spinners ... we look out for each other ... we respect each other's turf (you won't see one of us get one a bike that is used by another spinner) ... and we care. Although we don't know each other's names - if someone tries to remove a towel we've place on the bike to reserve it (class doesn't start until 6 am) they have to deal with all of us.
We've spoken of our Golf Community in past blogs -- where the Starter (Dom - or Di Di) looks out for us .... where we try to 'brown' the ranger so he doesn't yell at us .... where we now the best places to take a piss.
Community - a sense of belonging - having people care about you and you them -- isn't that what everyone yearns for -- and how lucky is the person that is involved in multiple communities.
ONTO GOLF: There is one loyal reader whose only interest is in the golf segment of this blog and questions the need for 'and more.' I would encourage that reader to broaden his/her horizons, get out more, discover the wonders of the world - be it in museums, restaurants, street fairs, or Central Park. For it may be hard for him/her to understand this -- but there is more to life than Golf.
That said - Rich and I couldn't let a week go by and not play golf - so we arranged tee time after the Marisa Run. We played at a different course (Sprain - which was once a strong consideration for the site of the Masters) and to our pleasant surprise - despite a week of rain - the course was dry and played short. It was also like playing golf in a nature preserve. At one point - I was hitting a shot surrounded by geese, a robin, a muskrat, and a 'fake coyote'.
Rich proved the theory -- Bigger is Better -- untrue. He kept his big stick in the bag and used his 3 wood and consistently drove the ball 200 + yards and straight down the middle. We had another player join us for the first 9 holes - and then left - complaining about pains in his back. If Joe is reading this blog - and I have no doubt that he is -- lose the cigarettes on the course and smoke stogies like the 'big boys' do.
We had been warned about playing Sprain on a Sunday afternoon -- with prognostications (SAT word) of a 6 hour round. That prediction - like the weather - turned out to be false. The weather was supposed to turn sunny and warm -- it was rainy and could. The round took us 4 hours and 20 minutes -- another new record. I had another 'by-by' and a few pars ... that made a couple of 7's easier to handle.
It was strange playing at Sprain - because we weren't part of that "COMMUNITY". we didn't know the starter, weren't sure of the protocols and 'nobody new our name.' Joe did ask if I got the nick name Chip because I was playing well (chipping well) around the green. I told him no - that my name went from Charles, to Charlie.
This upcoming Sunday (Memorial Day Week-end) will feature a bar b que at Dan Forman's lake house after the round of golf. I believe Rich sent him the e-mail, and his secretary will read it to him.
So to all those who have found COMMUNITIES and all of us still searching, I say:
Keep your drives long and straight and your putts short and true.
the Chipster
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Rough is "ROUGH"
I come from Iowa where everyone knows that the "Corn is as high as an Elephant's Eye" -- after two weeks of rain, that same refrain would be appropriate for the Rough. Under the best of circumstances, the Saxon Woods Fairways are like country club roughs -- so today - the Rough was like a jungle. One needed a machete not an iron.
Weather -- a windy (gusts up to 30 knots) that made the straightest shots hooks and 'dead on' balls fall short of the green. Temperature at tee time was a nippy 56 degrees.
Fashion -- Barry broke out the shorts ... and who could blame him with 'those legs'.
Time -- While we were chastised by the Ranger (sucking up to him two weeks ago apparently didn't have any lasting effect - see prior blogs) for playing slow ... and we did spend much more time searching for balls in the rain forest ... we finished in a very respectable 4 hrs. and 30 minutes. A special commendation for being 'early' -- as our tee time is now 7:10 am and we meet at the course at 6:50 am.
Culinary Report -- Barry is back to a bagel, Richie - trail mix, Les is the healthy one with carrots, and I'm sticking to my Peanut Butter sandwich.
Tribute -- we took a few moments to recognize our moms - without whom we would not be on the course - and our wives -- whose tolerance of our spending 5 hours every Sunday chasing a white ball into a hole guarded by a flag is appreciated. (some may say our absence for said period is a Mother's Day gift in itself.) Quite a number of other golfers remember their mothers every time they play which is noted by their exclamation: "MOTHER - " or sometimes "YOU MOTHER" after stroking the ball.
Golf - as is life - is often humbling. Drives that were long and straight last week were slices this week. Putts that went in now were left short. For the Record -- I am most uncomfortable with the term "skirt" that is now always used when we leave a putt short. I find it to be a derogatory, insensitive term, insinuating that women are 'weaker' and thus more likely to leave a putt short. The term was introduced by a boyhood friend and I now promise my loyal readership -- and I challenge my fellow golfers -- to no longer be a 'sexist'. From now on, I 'll exclaim "Pygmy" when my putts fall short of the cup.
As the afternoon wanes and thoughts of next week's golf begin ... this is the CHIPSTER signing off --
Keep your drives long and straight and your putts short and true.
Weather -- a windy (gusts up to 30 knots) that made the straightest shots hooks and 'dead on' balls fall short of the green. Temperature at tee time was a nippy 56 degrees.
Fashion -- Barry broke out the shorts ... and who could blame him with 'those legs'.
Time -- While we were chastised by the Ranger (sucking up to him two weeks ago apparently didn't have any lasting effect - see prior blogs) for playing slow ... and we did spend much more time searching for balls in the rain forest ... we finished in a very respectable 4 hrs. and 30 minutes. A special commendation for being 'early' -- as our tee time is now 7:10 am and we meet at the course at 6:50 am.
Culinary Report -- Barry is back to a bagel, Richie - trail mix, Les is the healthy one with carrots, and I'm sticking to my Peanut Butter sandwich.
Tribute -- we took a few moments to recognize our moms - without whom we would not be on the course - and our wives -- whose tolerance of our spending 5 hours every Sunday chasing a white ball into a hole guarded by a flag is appreciated. (some may say our absence for said period is a Mother's Day gift in itself.) Quite a number of other golfers remember their mothers every time they play which is noted by their exclamation: "MOTHER - " or sometimes "YOU MOTHER" after stroking the ball.
Golf - as is life - is often humbling. Drives that were long and straight last week were slices this week. Putts that went in now were left short. For the Record -- I am most uncomfortable with the term "skirt" that is now always used when we leave a putt short. I find it to be a derogatory, insensitive term, insinuating that women are 'weaker' and thus more likely to leave a putt short. The term was introduced by a boyhood friend and I now promise my loyal readership -- and I challenge my fellow golfers -- to no longer be a 'sexist'. From now on, I 'll exclaim "Pygmy" when my putts fall short of the cup.
As the afternoon wanes and thoughts of next week's golf begin ... this is the CHIPSTER signing off --
Keep your drives long and straight and your putts short and true.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
a four letter word NOT used on the Golf Course
QUIT --- and we didn't....despite rain that got heavier and a chill that cut to the bone, we finished our game today in a record breaking 4 hrs and 30 minutes. It helped being the only ones of the course after the 11th hole. Question of the day is why Barry and Richie didn't use their Golf umbrellas until the 16th hole.
Weather forecast - morning clouds - no rain until mid-late afternoon. Accuracy - none --- we started playing under a light rain and it gradually increased to a steady downpour. I know a lot of my readership are particularly down on the bankers, blaming their 'greediness' for bringing down the economy -- but I blame the weather forecasters -- whose % of accurate forecasts mirror my % of times that I 3 putt. They contributed to the lack of confidence in anything told to us.
Style section - no shorts for any of us.
Culinary section - no carbs for Barry --- Bananas seem to be the fruit of choice.
Sports section - play was swift and soggy. a few pars and far to many 'skirts' on the green. The 'chipster' was driving the ball well.
Inquiring Minds - whose 'new' 3 wheel cart remains in the box?
OP ED: Sensi Gina's mantra at the spin class is "Become Your Dream." I've wanted to be Pete, Hutch, Crocker, and a host of other constables .... and this Wed I came close to 'becoming my dream.' WJCS is doing a series of trainings for the White Plains Police Department and I buddied up with Sgt. Jimmy. As I was leaving - the Sarge stopped me and asked if I wanted to 'have some fun' - which meant going down to the firing range - putting on a bullet proof vest - in case I hit the wall the the bullet ricocheted and hit me, put on ear plugs and safety glasses -- and with Officer Ben - a 6 ft 6 motorcycle cop who is also in charge of the range - instructing me - I shot a Smith and Wesson, 40 caliber gun. The target was a person - with the zone (cardiac area) clearly delineated. From 15 yards away - I'm proud to announce 25 of 27 kill shots. I assumed the position - two hands gripping the pistol - and fired away. The sound was deafening - even with the ear guards and the smell of gun powder evident. It was another check off on the bucket list -- and quite a rush.
Here's hoping for week-ends of fair skies and golf games where long, straight drives and short, accurate putts are predictions that come to be.
Chip out.
Weather forecast - morning clouds - no rain until mid-late afternoon. Accuracy - none --- we started playing under a light rain and it gradually increased to a steady downpour. I know a lot of my readership are particularly down on the bankers, blaming their 'greediness' for bringing down the economy -- but I blame the weather forecasters -- whose % of accurate forecasts mirror my % of times that I 3 putt. They contributed to the lack of confidence in anything told to us.
Style section - no shorts for any of us.
Culinary section - no carbs for Barry --- Bananas seem to be the fruit of choice.
Sports section - play was swift and soggy. a few pars and far to many 'skirts' on the green. The 'chipster' was driving the ball well.
Inquiring Minds - whose 'new' 3 wheel cart remains in the box?
OP ED: Sensi Gina's mantra at the spin class is "Become Your Dream." I've wanted to be Pete, Hutch, Crocker, and a host of other constables .... and this Wed I came close to 'becoming my dream.' WJCS is doing a series of trainings for the White Plains Police Department and I buddied up with Sgt. Jimmy. As I was leaving - the Sarge stopped me and asked if I wanted to 'have some fun' - which meant going down to the firing range - putting on a bullet proof vest - in case I hit the wall the the bullet ricocheted and hit me, put on ear plugs and safety glasses -- and with Officer Ben - a 6 ft 6 motorcycle cop who is also in charge of the range - instructing me - I shot a Smith and Wesson, 40 caliber gun. The target was a person - with the zone (cardiac area) clearly delineated. From 15 yards away - I'm proud to announce 25 of 27 kill shots. I assumed the position - two hands gripping the pistol - and fired away. The sound was deafening - even with the ear guards and the smell of gun powder evident. It was another check off on the bucket list -- and quite a rush.
Here's hoping for week-ends of fair skies and golf games where long, straight drives and short, accurate putts are predictions that come to be.
Chip out.
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