When I'm 64...

Sam Snead at 67 years old.

Tom Watson at 65 years old.

Jack Nicklaus at 64 years old.   

Three of golf’s five or six greatest ever, including the GOAT.  Pretty select company.

Now, add Fred Funk to that dazzling list.  At age 64.

That’s right.  Fred Funk finished 36 holes at -1 under par in the Bermuda Championship at Port Royal Golf Course yesterday, making the cut by a comfortable margin.  He did so while playing with his son Taylor, who nearly mugged his father with joy when Fred chipped in for birdie on the final hole yesterday.

 See it here here

Son Taylor failed to make the cut on the windswept Port Royal course, but I don’t think he minded one little bit.

Makes one think of the Beatles, a Lennon-McCartney masterpiece, from way back when:

When I get older, losing my game, Many years from now

Will you still me watching me make the cut

Then watch me down a bottle of wine

If I'd been short of the cut by three
Would you lock the door
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four

AMDG

© R. E. Kelly 2012 -2020

Apropos of Nothing, On the Day Before Halloween..

I wandered onto YouTube in search of music (and inspiration) today.  Went from Petty to Ronstadt (Letterman Live, Petty’s The Waiting – a masterpiece) to the Harris-Parton-Ronstadt Trio and ended up at Blondie.  I was reminded of a song that I probably hadn’t heard in 30 years, from their second album, entitled Plastic Letters. The song, the first one on the album, is called Fan Mail. Even though it is not one of Blondie's big hits (for some unknown reason), it turns out to be as great as I remembered.  If you’ve never heard it, the link is here.

The lyrics are as follows:

I set my hand to writing you...it drifted off the page. I sold my one vision for a piece of the cake... I haven't ate in days. For unspoken value, aesthetic, and charm, I'd smile at you sideways, But the lighting is wrong. I'm taking a picture, and counting the cost, While the bells in my ears keep ringing.

I set my hand to writing you...it drifted of the page. I nearly fell, I feel like a lowlife in hell And I haven't slept in days and days, days and days... Beat on my Fender through my Gemini 2, Play to the posters on the wall of my room. Thought I was crazy when I'd think about you... And the bells in my ears keep ringing. And the bells in my ears keep ringing. In my ear bells are ringing.

Heavy, man.  Hope the songwriter got over it.

There has to be a golf parody in here somewhere.

 

AMDG

© R. E. Kelly 2012 -2020