As well as I struck the ball two days ago on the range equalled how poorly I struck the ball today on the Rancho 3 Par. Perhaps my concentration was off, since I had just visited my therapist, and, despite his comment "I think you're okay," I have my doubts, and doubting is what I must have been doing while standing over the two three footers that I missed today. I did, however, sink a 15 footer from the fringe, and I met a guy named Vince who says he wouldn't mind heading out and hitting the ball together every now and again. And he said that his girlfriend has an attractive single friend who's looking to meet someone. Wonder if being a mediocre golfer is a deal breaker for her.
My friend Caplan suggested at dinner tonight that I write in my blog the risque, humorous and often absurd stories that I tell to him. As tempting as that sounds, I don't think I could tip the followers of my travel stories off to this site if I were to turn it too blue. Though perhaps I've already sullied the product with R-rated fare? And maybe I shouldn't direct anyone to the blog but people who appreciate ribald stories. I'll take Caplan's suggestion under advisement, especially since it's more fun for me to write the other stuff and more fun to read it. That is, if I knew how to get readers. And not alienate those I have. You see the dilemma.
I was tipped to a very cool website called thewalkinggolfer.com, and ambulatory hackers should check it out.