I delivered a book today. The whole shebang. Been working on the final edits for a publisher around the clock for days, and I’m pooped. But smiling. It’s a GREAT feeling to cross the finish line on something this all consuming. Each time it happens, I’m still humbled and awed. Phew. I love my job.
Wobbly from so many hours glued to my office chair, it was time to get OUTSIDE. So, my girlfriend and I attempted to play golf. Her name is Robin Hammer. I call her “Hammer Hands” because she hits the ball too hard on the putting green. In truth, I usually hit it harder—pretending I’m back on cement, playing tennis. That’s how I knew about the nickname; when someone’s being called Hammer Hands, it’s usually me. At any rate, our men team up and win tournaments together and they love it when we take this game seriously and wrestle up the energy to practice without them. It shows some kind of commitment or something. And, I suppose they think we won’t suck as badly when we do play with them.
When Robin and I wrangle the dang ball into the cup without cheating, it’s fun, rewarding, even. Other times—like this am in sweltering heat and glaring sunshine, where we hit a whole lotta crapola—it’s just comical. This a.m. we spent so much time laughing at the absurdity of our skills (or lack of them) that we stopped a bit early to have lunch and jot down a few of our thoughts on the game. We were laughing so hard in the club restaurant that Robin’s iced-tea nearly came out of her nose, and I’m sure members were whispering about the two drunk ladies losing it in the corner.
If you’ve ever tried this game and want to feel better about your questionable skills, or you’d like to see how some people (me) practice writing by jotting down a bunch of garbaley goop, read on…
The Hammer-Hand-Girls’ Guide to Golf
1). For a 10:00 A.M. practice, leaving the house anytime between 9:50 & 9:56 is acceptable.
2). All golf course attire and cell phone rules are flexible (considering that the men polled report they can never get their women to play this silly game and by your very presence you’re keeping their hope alive).
3). Stopping and starting golf carts for emotional reasons, or no apparent reason, is always allowed. See point #2.
4). On the driving range, it’s understood that while men need to keep their voices down, women concentrate far better with loud laughter, gossip, and mindless chatter.
5). All course etiquette is negotiable. If anyone tells you otherwise, they’re jealous of your out-of-the-box thinking.
6). If you’ve been playing 30 minutes in temps above 90 degrees, that’s worth 2 hours of greens time.
7). Ladies, while men take heartless, purposeful stabs at the grass (most likely an anger issue), you care for nature and harmony, and should only create divots by accident.
8). “Hitting down” means smashing your club onto the ground like a crazy person, which is why it makes no sense to do it and therefore rarely registers. Duh.
9). When two carts filled with elderly gentlemen drive by and ask you to go to the beach with them, remember that they’re not used to seeing many women around these parts, and be especially polite when you decline.
10). If your ball gets up in the air at all, who cares where you’re aiming?
11). When you’re hot, sweaty, hungry (or, just plain not in the mood), it’s expected that you will skip chipping and sand work altogether. To do otherwise would be bad form.
12). For women with a positive attitude and consistent weekly practices (who forgo precious work hours with said positive attitude), 120 is the new 90.
13). Take your best hole ever, and multiply by 18. That’s your norm.
14). 10 consecutive practices are worth one piece of jewelry.
20 consecutive practices are worth one trip to Bora Bora.
40 consecutive practices are worth [switch to cheesy game-show-host voice] a BRAND NEW CAAAARRR!
“Consecutive” is open to your—and only your—interpretation.
15). No self-respecting woman actually takes putting seriously, so do whatever you want!
16). Using one hour of your golf time to write silly pontifications is worth hitting par on a full round—from the tips!
17). You don’t need no stinkin’ instructor!
18). Seriously, if you’re blessed enough to be with a man who wants to be with you, for hours and hours on end—even if you are chasing a psycho little white ball around—then quit yer bitchin,’ thank your lucky stars, and get to practicing.
Tee time anyone?
xxxx Linda Sivertsen & Robin Hammer (aka: Hammer Hands)
Hope that made you smile. My ex husband loved to play golf. For nearly two decades, I told myself that one day I’d be less busy and take the time to learn the game. Right before he moved to another state with another woman, I was just about to sign up for lessons. What happened? For two years (until I created a new business model for myself), I only got busier–out of necessity to save the farm. But I signed up for lessons anyway. I had figured something out. There’s never a “good” time to get married, have a baby, or raise a puppy, but you still do those things and your life expands. Writing a book and learning a new sport fall into the same category. There’s never “enough time.” Time may never walk up to you and grant you permission to do something you’ve always had on your bucket list. But you can take the time. Carve it out. Steal it. Demand it. Coax it.
Pray it/affirm it/schedule it into being.
Bottom line? It’s yours to create.
That doesn’t mean it will be easy, whatever that thing is on your list (especially not in hot-as-hell weather). But I can pretty much guarantee it will make you laugh.
Yours,
Linda
xx
