The other morning I eagerly added 4 extra golf balls to my hatchback stash as I got ready to leave for work. After a painfully disappointing first lesson, I expected the second session to be just as discouraging and equally stinging to my right hand. But I was pleasantly surprised to connect with the ball enough to get a transient feel for a potentially better swing. And this time I was smart enough to tape up my thumb and pointer finger to save my right hand from the torture of hitting 200+ balls in an hour. Ready to try out the new swing, I was saddened to hear that a member of my foursome was denied the right to enjoy a much needed 4.5 hours out on the course with his golfing buds. 30 minutes complaining about how his wife doesn't allow him any freedom led us to cancel our tee time in lieu of venting over a couple pitchers.
Friends often ask me why I play golf. Interestingly, no one has ever asked me why I play tennis. But I digress. Originally I took up golf for a guy, which is generally a slippery slope on which to step, especially since things like golf and football serve as outlets for guys to get away from the women in their lives. But oops, I stepped and slid. I never could pin down why I continued to play, though. It is frustrating, not to mention expensive, and just plain difficult to get the hang of. But I am beginning to see past the first tee all the way to the 19th hole, where walking those 4 miles and then bonding over Fat Tire has laid a foundation of friendship that goes beyond a common tee time on Saturday afternoon. Heartfelt discussions concerning separation, divorce, teenagers doing drugs, mingled amidst politics in the world and in the office and childhood experiences that have meandered their way into our so called adulthood - those are worth the 3 putts to give me a bogey on the par 3 17th, the duff into the water after a long drive into the middle of the fairway, and the occasional greens in regulation moment of glory.
Now you know why I play golf. And now I know too.
The Sun girls
excited to be outside
Monday, June 30, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Hungry Like the Wolf
NatureShark MountainMonday, June 23, 7:00pm
[D] (KQED Life-Encore)Underwater filmmakers Howard and Michele Hall have spent 25 years diving and documenting the most remote and beautiful underwater locations, always learning something new about the fantastic creatures that live there. Yet even these remote places and creatures are at risk in today's world, and being able to share their experiences with the rest of us is increasingly important to the Halls, and to us. They take us along on the dive of a lifetime, to a tiny outpost 300 miles off the coast of Central American — Shark Mountain.CC, Stereo TVPG Educational Taping Rights: 1 year
Normally, I am fascinated by nature, especially of the underwater world. Creatures below the vast oceans have intrigued me since my best bud introduced me to the angel fish living in a simple desktop tank. But tonight, as I watched the schools of sharks around Coco Island mingle amongst so called "fish" whose fins are used as feet and spongelike frog fish with lures protruding from their foreheads, I was scared. I suddenly felt frightened and disturbed watching a dozen male, white-tipped sharks attack a single female by biting down on her gills in order to mate. And then the film makers allowed me to invade the privacy of hundreds of silky sharks voraciously hunting the innocent, sleeping fish in reefs in the dark of night. I was absolutely terrified.
I'm so grateful there is still light at 8 at night this time of year.
[D] (KQED Life-Encore)Underwater filmmakers Howard and Michele Hall have spent 25 years diving and documenting the most remote and beautiful underwater locations, always learning something new about the fantastic creatures that live there. Yet even these remote places and creatures are at risk in today's world, and being able to share their experiences with the rest of us is increasingly important to the Halls, and to us. They take us along on the dive of a lifetime, to a tiny outpost 300 miles off the coast of Central American — Shark Mountain.CC, Stereo TVPG Educational Taping Rights: 1 year
Normally, I am fascinated by nature, especially of the underwater world. Creatures below the vast oceans have intrigued me since my best bud introduced me to the angel fish living in a simple desktop tank. But tonight, as I watched the schools of sharks around Coco Island mingle amongst so called "fish" whose fins are used as feet and spongelike frog fish with lures protruding from their foreheads, I was scared. I suddenly felt frightened and disturbed watching a dozen male, white-tipped sharks attack a single female by biting down on her gills in order to mate. And then the film makers allowed me to invade the privacy of hundreds of silky sharks voraciously hunting the innocent, sleeping fish in reefs in the dark of night. I was absolutely terrified.
I'm so grateful there is still light at 8 at night this time of year.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Long Way Home
I've always been an overly emotional person. My sister claims it has something to do with our repressed childhood. But whatever the reason, I cry at the drop of a hat. When I left my first job of 2.5 years, I asked my manager to mislead my coworkers by announcing a later last day, so that I could slip out without having to tearfully face my office family for the last time. Shoot, I cried leaving a 2.5 month internship my sophomore year of college! But my sensitivity does have some practical implications. The bucket-o-tears meter is the gauge I use to determine whether or not a movie is worth my ten bucks. Who needs Ebert and Roeper when you have your own internal movie critic? I put a shout out to Kleenex for making tissues soft enough to spare my nose from unnecessary chafing; I think they should send me a lifetime achievement award for my overactive tear ducts.
I wish my next trial were as simple as draining a box of tissues. There are really no words that can adequately describe the experience of losing your best friend. I have felt the feelings of loss before and the flashes of memories that you swear happened just yesterday. There are even twinges of regret, for the times you could have spent talking about heartfelt dreams instead of watching another bad rental that we had to finish to get our $2 worth. But it has never been so severe that it would cause me to throw up while brushing my teeth. I suppose my body had to step up the physiological response, since the crying reflex went into overdrive. But all the adjectives and adverbs cannot begin to tell the story of trauma that is placed on your heart. If you know and can relate, then I sincerely apologize. This morning I heard the story of a father who fell asleep on his 10 week old baby, smothering him to death. No longer do I have to pretend to imagine what another person in mourning feels. Perhaps I should just be grateful for the short time on this earth that I shared with my friend. But you know what, I am just not ready to.
I wish my next trial were as simple as draining a box of tissues. There are really no words that can adequately describe the experience of losing your best friend. I have felt the feelings of loss before and the flashes of memories that you swear happened just yesterday. There are even twinges of regret, for the times you could have spent talking about heartfelt dreams instead of watching another bad rental that we had to finish to get our $2 worth. But it has never been so severe that it would cause me to throw up while brushing my teeth. I suppose my body had to step up the physiological response, since the crying reflex went into overdrive. But all the adjectives and adverbs cannot begin to tell the story of trauma that is placed on your heart. If you know and can relate, then I sincerely apologize. This morning I heard the story of a father who fell asleep on his 10 week old baby, smothering him to death. No longer do I have to pretend to imagine what another person in mourning feels. Perhaps I should just be grateful for the short time on this earth that I shared with my friend. But you know what, I am just not ready to.
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