The Best In Golf

Reverent honor and homage paid to a sacred personage, or to any object regarded as sacred.

Such is the literal definition of worship, but let me share with you the exact.

Most of us have our Mothers and a few would tell you they aren’t so sure they are glad of that…I’m here to correct you…never, and I mean never joke about two things…first, don’t joke about cancer, and second never joke about your Mom.

Moms are a different breed. They sometimes inspire outwardly, but usually are more subtle.

Ever talk to a boy who didn’t worship his Dad? Hard to find, here too.

But Mom drove you to whatever, soccer, baseball, golf, a girls house. She talked your Dad off the ledge when he was ready to kill you for your latest dumbass teenager move. Am I right?

My Mom was the coolest chick ever. A Florida girl in the old sense of the word.

In the last 15 years of her life she owned three pairs of shoes. A pair of fancy flip flops for church, concerts, and restaurants. A pair of regular flip flops (99 cents then and now) that fit the bill the rest of the time…and a pair of FJs…because golf was her thing.

She could catch, clean, and fry a mullet out of the Gulf of Mexico either because she didn’t expect you for dinner, or, more likely, because it was just damned fun.

She never wasted anything. It took me many years to understand this. I grew up in a very comfortable house…eat what you needed, if there was a little left over, so what?

That’s not the world she grew up in. If we had Blue Crabs for dinner, you could “finish” yours and she’d find enough meat on it to feed another person…it’s how she rolled.

She loved golf…not sure how many holes-in-one she made but it was a lot…I’m still waiting but maybe if I started hitting it 125 max I’d get a few.

My brother Ned is not prone to profound statements…usually it’s “What’s up”? or “Man you should have seen the Snook I just caught“.

But then again life tends to surprise you.

The greatest thing I ever heard come out of a human being is when he said, while Mom was dying, “You know we all worshipped Dad, now it’s time to figure out a way to worship Mom.”

If she’s around, call her every Sunday…if not, then you’re with me bud.

Reverent honor and homage paid to a sacred personage, or to any object regarded as sacred.

Such is the literal definition of worship, but let me share with you the exact.

Most of us have our Mothers and a few would tell you they aren’t so sure they are glad of that…I’m here to correct you…never, and I mean never joke about two things…first, don’t joke about cancer, and second never joke about your Mom.

Moms are a different breed. They sometimes inspire outwardly, but usually are more subtle.

Ever talk to a boy who didn’t worship his Dad? Hard to find, here too.

But Mom drove you to whatever, soccer, baseball, golf, a girls house. She talked your Dad off the ledge when he was ready to kill you for your latest dumbass teenager move. Am I right?

My Mom was the coolest chick ever. A Florida girl in the old sense of the word.

In the last 15 years of her life she owned three pairs of shoes. A pair of fancy flip flops for church, concerts, and restaurants. A pair of regular flip flops (99 cents then and now) that fit the bill the rest of the time…and a pair of FJs…because golf was her thing.

She could catch, clean, and fry a mullet out of the Gulf of Mexico either because she didn’t expect you for dinner, or, more likely, because it was just damned fun.

She never wasted anything. It took me many years to understand this. I grew up in a very comfortable house…eat what you needed, if there was a little left over, so what?

That’s not the world she grew up in. If we had Blue Crabs for dinner, you could “finish” yours and she’d find enough meat on it to feed another person…it’s how she rolled.

She loved golf…not sure how many holes-in-one she made but it was a lot…I’m still waiting but maybe if I started hitting it 125 max I’d get a few.

My brother Ned is not prone to profound statements…usually it’s “What’s up”? or “Man you should have seen the Snook I just caught“.

But then again life tends to surprise you.

The greatest thing I ever heard come out of a human being is when he said, while Mom was dying, “You know we all worshipped Dad, now it’s time to figure out a way to worship Mom.”

If she’s around, call her every Sunday…if not, then you’re with me bud.

Reverent honor and homage paid to a sacred personage, or to any object regarded as sacred.

Such is the literal definition of worship, but let me share with you the exact.

Most of us have our Mothers and a few would tell you they aren’t so sure they are glad of that…I’m here to correct you…never, and I mean never joke about two things…first, don’t joke about cancer, and second never joke about your Mom.

Moms are a different breed. They sometimes inspire outwardly, but usually are more subtle.

Ever talk to a boy who didn’t worship his Dad? Hard to find, here too.

But Mom drove you to whatever, soccer, baseball, golf, a girls house. She talked your Dad off the ledge when he was ready to kill you for your latest dumbass teenager move. Am I right?

My Mom was the coolest chick ever. A Florida girl in the old sense of the word.

In the last 15 years of her life she owned three pairs of shoes. A pair of fancy flip flops for church, concerts, and restaurants. A pair of regular flip flops (99 cents then and now) that fit the bill the rest of the time…and a pair of FJs…because golf was her thing.

She could catch, clean, and fry a mullet out of the Gulf of Mexico either because she didn’t expect you for dinner, or, more likely, because it was just damned fun.

She never wasted anything. It took me many years to understand this. I grew up in a very comfortable house…eat what you needed, if there was a little left over, so what?

That’s not the world she grew up in. If we had Blue Crabs for dinner, you could “finish” yours and she’d find enough meat on it to feed another person…it’s how she rolled.

She loved golf…not sure how many holes-in-one she made but it was a lot…I’m still waiting but maybe if I started hitting it 125 max I’d get a few.

My brother Ned is not prone to profound statements…usually it’s “What’s up”? or “Man you should have seen the Snook I just caught“.

But then again life tends to surprise you.

The greatest thing I ever heard come out of a human being is when he said, while Mom was dying, “You know we all worshipped Dad, now it’s time to figure out a way to worship Mom.”

If she’s around, call her every Sunday…if not, then you’re with me bud.