Thursday, March 25, 2010

Sorry - it's my blog so I can say what I want!

BP, Sunoco, Exxon (Esso for those old enough), Shell - this isn't a diatribe about the oil companies - this is a serious issue that I am dealing with at this time.

Years ago, I caddied growing up.  I will say, my experience at Westwood CC was similar in nature to what everyone has seen (and quoted numerous times) at Bushwood CC (aka Caddyshack).  We had gambling in the clubhouse with penny caddy golf, we had Mrs Gotshalk who came dressed in her night shirt, had a humped back and sneered at you when you ordered that glass bottle of Coke and a Payday bar.  There were HOURS of time watching really bad Sunday TV as you didn't get to the club until 730 that day so were at the bottom of the list of caddies getting out that morning.  Cable TV wasn't invented yet so all we had was Davy and Goliath or really bad Christian TV (wait - I forgot about Candlepins For Cash.)

And then there were the 'Gofers' (I meant to spell it that way Bill Murray!).  On Tuesday's, Ladies Day, you could caddy for an entire foursome, two carts.  Get out the three woods and meet them 20 yards in front of the green.  You had Mr. Michaelson who's entire life was spent trying to scare a caddy to death so that he could bring him home and mount him on the trophy wall.  ANY MOVEMENT, ANY SOUND, was sheer death to the caddy.  You had to hold the bag between both legs, holding the woods together while cupping the irons with both hands.  The towel couldn't flap in the wind, you best not drop a head cover, and if the irons clanked....   And then you had Mr DeLorean, Uncle or cousin to the inventor of the automobile featured in the Back To The Future movies.  He could hit a 300+ yard drive and carried a bag that would put Rodney Dangerfield to shame.  Wait, correction, HAD a bag that put RD to shame, I'm the one that had to CARRY it!

And then there was that fateful day - I can't remember his name but believe it may have been Mr. Michaelson as well (a different one.)  He was on a cart so I had him and his partner while I was running along the side.  At one point he was so upset he told me to hit the shot.  I told him we weren't allowed to hit the shot.  He got angry, but I really was in the right on this one.  So he asked me what club to hit.  He was in the bunker, which made my decision rather simple, but I still nervously replied, "uh...I would use your sand wedge sir."  To which he grunted approval and I ran back to get his club.  Luckily his shot did get out of the sand and we continued on.  I must have done something right as he was kind enough to reach into his golf bag and pull out a plastic baggie with apple slices (that had been there for all 13 holes today) and offered me one.  Since we had just turned the nine I had told him I still had half a Payday bar and was fine.

It was at this point that I noticed something kind of funny.  It kind of smelled, there, near him, when giving him his putter.  And then I noticed it, as he approached his putt and leaned over to pick up his marker - a visible stain - on his pants - I was like 14 years old - I was at a loss!

OH MY GOD!  HE SHIT HIS PANTS!

He putted out and walked off with his friends realizing the cart was on the other side of the green.  He told me to bring the cart around.  I went to get the cart, started to get in when I noticed the seat.

OH MY GOD!  HE LEFT A MARK!  AND I HAVE TO DRIVE THE CART!

To this day, I'll never forget that moment, nor the many others like that, where my elderly golfer friends (who were immediately responsible for my ability to get a new comic book or cool Star Trek thingy) flatulated without knowing.  Walking along, leaving their invisible trail in the air; that unmistakeable sound (to any 7th grader) while going along as if nothing happened.  I swore to myself that I would never let that happen to me.  Sure, if home alone and it happens, so what - but in public, outside, at the office - never.

OH MY GOD!  I HATE THESE STEROIDS - I'VE BECOME MR. MICHAELSON!

That's what BP, Sunoco, Exxon and Shell have in common with me - GAS!  I am sick and tired of spending the first 4 days of every week blown up like a balloon with any movement: stretch, reach, hiccup, whatever; eliciting a noise that any 7th grader would immediately recognize.  Luckily, the 7th graders I work with have all forgotten the joys of their childhood or there would be much hell to pay.  But I know - and I'm embarrassed - but i'll never admit it! :)   So perhaps this is a bit TMI, but again, It's my blog and I'll whine if I want to!

6 comments:

Sandy said...

How hysterical!! Not that you have the power to drive yourself across the greens with just your own wind, but your descriptions of being a caddy... one of my absolute favorite movies "CaddyShack" and why I NEVER EVER eat that candy bar now...

Anything with yeast in it will only add to your 'balloon,' so cut out those products for awhile and see if that helps at all... omigod... I'm still laughing... but praying for a good outcome for you, too!

rugbyhubby said...

I almost said Baby Ruth but just couldn't go there!

Lorna said...

Just "found" your blog and have done my level best to read it from the start. You are one funny guy.

rugbyhubby said...

Many thanks Lorna - just saw your blog and that Mike was diagnosed w/ MM. If I can help w/ anything, please let me know. I did make sure my doc was a Brit so that he'd understand my desire to continue playing rugby. Unfortunately it wasn't enough so I've been put off the pitch (and am none too happy about it.) Best wishes going forward - it's a pain in the derrière but hopefully he can get it under control and out of immediate concern.

Mike said...

Hi there, I'm Lorna's significant other,Mike. Couldn't resist adding to the Dex thread. Mine is a story of gradual 2 day inflation to Michelin Man and then avoid flights of stairs for fear of playin the "flight of the bumble bee" note by note step by step. I can understand your missing the rugby thing, as I am missing my high octane pace of life that has been replaced with fatigue pains and swollen ankles......but....hey...... we got jumpin up and down and stickin our tongues out humour to beat this..... Love your blog xx
Mike.

rugbyhubby said...

Agreed - the bad news is I don't start my next dose of Dex till this coming Monday - but i still seem to have the gas thing going on. Perhaps I really am getting old!