The only golf I partook of today consisted of revisiting the fantastic courses I played in Alabama on the Robert Trent Jones Golf Trail, a bit of nostalgic time travel resulting from my having added nearly another 1,000 words to my feature story about that trip. I hope to reread the piece in the morning, then send it off for fact checking.
I did, however, watch a few minutes of the Golf Channel, and I wondered how I could make a trip to Oregon's Bandon Dunes and its sister courses happen. I should call up there to see if they would be interested in hosting me so that I could write a column about my experiences there.
If it sounds as though nothing of consequence has happened, then I have written this post accurately.
I started to read the book Time Release, by the editor of Orange Coast Magazine, Martin J. Smith, the one who encouraged my efforts on Exit Wound the other day. So far it's really good, and it makes the Robert B. Parker Spenser novel I inhaled over the last two days seem like little more than seasoning to this book's steak. Of course, Robert B. Parker was rich, famous and so widely respected that he is generally viewed as having been the logical successor to Hammett-Chandler-and-MacDonald. And yet, even after having studied the field for more than 25 years, I had never heard of Martin J. Smith until I emailed him the other day. Of course, he's still alive, unlike Parker, so he might be fine with their relative degrees of fame.
I also worked out like crazy, and Day Three of my re-started P90X effort, Shoulders & Arms, followed by Ab Ripper X, put me on the verge of collapse.
All things considered, I would rather have played golf.