Turn The Cart Around

It’s that one shot that brings you back, isn’t it.  You’re having a lousy round, but that last iron shot to within five feet for a makeable birdie to salvage a disastrous round on the final hole always brings you back.  What a tease. 

I lived it.  The one time I played the Old Course at St. Andrews, I had a hellacious day.  As a portent of things to come, on the first hole I striped a 7-iron from the fairway, nice and high, perfect for a midlands course, a disaster for a links course.  The ball flew straight into the teeth of a strong wind (actually a gale) that never relented the entire round.  My ball sailed high and straight and after a Long, beautiful flight landed about 25 feet in front of me.  Oh boy, an elephant’s ass if there ever was one (high and stinky.) 

On the way out on the front, the wind blew across from left to right out to the Firth of Forth, taking every one of my shots hard right with it. I played out of the right rough the whole way out to the turn, waving to the happy bathers out on the strand on every hole, who were blissfully ignorant of my frustration at every shot. 

Then, after the turn, heading in, the wind blew hard right to left, again taking all my shots with it.  Ugh.  I loved hitting from the adjacent fairway on every hole, since I hadn’t hit one from that fairway the entire way out from the clubhouse.  And don’t ask about the Road Hole.

But  on the last hole I drove over the Swilcan Burn, and, staring the Valley of Sin right in the gob, I put an iron shot 10 feet from the hole, pin high,  and two-putted for par.  The sun reflected off of the craggy face of the venerable R &A, with a bagpipe playing somewhere in the old town behind us (true!), and despite the fact that my score resembled a bad blood pressure reading, I was already looking forward to the next round of golf.  I was ready to turn the cart around. 

Original lyrics:  Shattered, by O.A.R

Composers:	Gregg Wattenberg Marc Roberge
Lyricists:	Gregg Wattenberg Marc Roberge
Date:	2008
Publisher:	EMI Music Publishing

Copyright:       EMI April Music, Inc., G WATT Music

                        and Old Man Time Music, Inc.

In a way, I need a change
From this blasted game

Another chunk, another putt, another lousy score
But it's always back to golf

Fumble left and right
At the driving range
Got the cart, sat and thought
There's more I need
It's always back to you

But I'm good without ya
Yeah No good without you
Yeah, yeah, yeah

How many times can I swing til I stripe it?
way out of bounds, can't decide what’s the matter

I always turn the cart around

Give me a break; let me make a good swing plane
All that it takes is some time
Yes I'm shattered
I always turn the cart around

I had no idea that the round

Would take so damn long
Took it out, on the path

While the putts don’t fall
Push it right again

But I'm good without ya
Yeah No good without you
Yeah, yeah, yeah

How many times can I swing til I stripe it?
way out of bounds, can't decide what’s the matter

I always turn the cart around

Give me a break; let me make a good swing plane
All that it takes is some time
Yes I'm shattered
I always turn the cart around

Give it up, give it up Baby
Can’t give it up, give it up no how

How many times can I change  my damn putter?
Can’t find the line, can't decide left or right lip
I always turn the cart around

How many times can I swing til I stripe it?
way out of bounds, can't decide what’s the matter

I always turn the cart around

Don't wanna turn that cart around
But I gotta turn this thing around

Composers:	Gregg Wattenberg Marc Roberge
Lyricists:	Gregg Wattenberg Marc Roberge
Date:	2008
Publisher:	EMI Music Publishing

Copyright EMI April Music, Inc., G WATT Music and Old Man Time Music, Inc.

Copyright R.E. Kelly 2012-2018

AMDG

RIP TP

My first post of 2018 is a melancholy one.  As we close out 2017, it is still hard to believe that Tom Petty is gone.

I saw TP open for Bob Dylan and the Grateful Dead (how about that for a lineup!) in 1986 at RFK Stadium in Washington DC.  As I think back now, I wonder who would be the opening act, if Jerry and Tom were alive today.  Certainly,  Petty could speak the same words of Theoden, King of the  Mark, leader of the Rohirrim,  from the epic Lord of the Rings trilogy, as he lay dying on the Fields of  Pelennor.  Theoden who had doubted his legacy, spoke to Meriadoc the Hobbit, “I go now to my fathers, and even in their mighty company I shall not now be ashamed.”

Rest in Peace, Tom Petty.  Your music will last forever.

Like Runaway Trains

Copyright R.E. Kelly 2012-2018

AMDG

Happy Hogmanay 2018 !!!

Whether the world knows it or not, a large swath of humanity pays homage to Robert Burns, the poet laureate of Scotland when celebrating the New Year.  His poem and song, Auld Lang Syne, written in 1788, will be sung at midnight by hundreds of millions of people around the globe, and I would guess that only a minuscule percentage of those revelers will know who wrote it and what it means (the phrase :"for auld lang syne" roughly translates to "for old times' sake").

While I could find no reference to Robert Burns playing golf during a quick trip through the Internet, I believe he was a sportsman, as he was a member of the Royal Company of Archers in 1792.  And Burns was born in Ayrshire, home of several of the world’s greatest courses (Royal Troon, Turnberry and Prestwick Golf Club, the home of the first Open Championship).  

While the game of golf predates Auld Lang Syne by centuries (the first documented mention of golf in Scotland appears in a 1457 Act of the Scottish Parliament, an edict issued by King James II of Scotland prohibiting the playing of the games of golf and football  as these were a distraction from archery practice for military purposes) it’s hard to imagine a true Scotsman who does not (and for many centuries did not) have golf in his blood.  So give a passing thought to  Rabbie (not Rabbi) Burns when you drunkenly warble his melancholy tribute to days gone by at midnight tonight, and dream later of making memories in the future from rounds of golf played with friends and family.

The Poet Laureate Himself

Here are the original words to perhaps the world’s most famous poem:

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne?

CHORUS:

For auld lang syne, my jo,
for auld lang syne,
we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint-stoup!
and surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak' a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

For auld lang syne, my jo,
for auld lang syne,
we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

 

We twa hae run about the braes,
and pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,
sin' auld lang syne.

CHORUS

For auld lang syne, my jo,
for auld lang syne,
we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

 

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,
frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
sin' auld lang syne.

Copyright R.E. Kelly 2012-2018

AMDG