A long walk not-so-spoiled
Having nothing to do can be tiring at times it's true, but if you show a little savvy and follow Whitman's advice to suck the marrow out of life, you can achieve quite a bit by doing very little.
case in point...
Nursing considerable hangovers and having grown tired of girl watching in the park, Deano and I had come to the conclusion that we had, in fact, become bored.
Listless and highly uninspired due to the recent events that had occured in both of our lives, but mainly due to the gazillion pints and shots of Jagermeister we consumed with half of the city the night before, we found ourselves needy for spiritual fulfilment.
And with that realization it dawned upon me
that what we both so desperately wanted and needed in our lives
was located near the airport.
The golf course.
And on that first tee, as we flipped a coin to decide who would lead off, a transformation began.
We were no longer mere mortals wielding a 9 iron and a sand wedge respectively, no, we were now in fact warriors, wielding weapons that could slash through Life and change our destinies.
With a mighty swing we were altering Fate and controlling History itself, for we had embarked on a quest for that Holiest of grails... the truth.
Asimov once said "A subtle thought that is in error may yet give rise to fruitful inquiry that can establish truths of great value".
Keeping that in mind, an intended flop shot over a bush that eventually ended up in Lethbridge ceased to be a failed attempt at saving par. It became a metaphor for all the decisions that we had made regarding our personal happiness. That pretty little approach shot with an 9 iron that ended up 10 feet from the pin was no longer an excellent opportunity for birdie. No, it was in fact a reminder of what we have achieved through our determination and wisdom.
And the golf ball, no longer a sphere of rubber but now our siblings, our lovers, our spouses, our children...and on certain holes...ourselves...and we now faced the daunting task of placing all of them where they needed to be and also faced the sickening truth of the consequences that would follow if we failed to be accurate.
And as we advanced, we were no longer walking down a fairway, we were approaching the front lines of an inherently personal battlefield and the bunkers and various other hazards were now our personal demons with which were about to engage in batlle with.
And as we measured our losses, counted our dead and celebrated our triumphs, we were struck with a sense of serenity and tranquility as we were immersed in the silence that can only be found on a now quiet battlefield where war had once raged.
And not only were we filled with the feeling of accomplishment, we were positively brimming with the knowledge of completion.
And as we walked off that last site of battle, that flag no longer sported the word Life but had once again became a faded number 18 and as we tallied up our losses and victories, those decisions and events that were noted had again become numbers...and we had been restored back to simple men.
And since I had shot lower, Deano had to present to the champion the spoils of victory...so he ordered the pints and brought them to the table.
But since we had equally fought bravely and didn't give up when we were frustrated or lacking confidence, we had both overcame adversity and like Bowie once sang, we became heroes...just for one day.
and so I gladly paid...
case in point...
Nursing considerable hangovers and having grown tired of girl watching in the park, Deano and I had come to the conclusion that we had, in fact, become bored.
Listless and highly uninspired due to the recent events that had occured in both of our lives, but mainly due to the gazillion pints and shots of Jagermeister we consumed with half of the city the night before, we found ourselves needy for spiritual fulfilment.
And with that realization it dawned upon me
that what we both so desperately wanted and needed in our lives
was located near the airport.
The golf course.
And on that first tee, as we flipped a coin to decide who would lead off, a transformation began.
We were no longer mere mortals wielding a 9 iron and a sand wedge respectively, no, we were now in fact warriors, wielding weapons that could slash through Life and change our destinies.
With a mighty swing we were altering Fate and controlling History itself, for we had embarked on a quest for that Holiest of grails... the truth.
Asimov once said "A subtle thought that is in error may yet give rise to fruitful inquiry that can establish truths of great value".
Keeping that in mind, an intended flop shot over a bush that eventually ended up in Lethbridge ceased to be a failed attempt at saving par. It became a metaphor for all the decisions that we had made regarding our personal happiness. That pretty little approach shot with an 9 iron that ended up 10 feet from the pin was no longer an excellent opportunity for birdie. No, it was in fact a reminder of what we have achieved through our determination and wisdom.
And the golf ball, no longer a sphere of rubber but now our siblings, our lovers, our spouses, our children...and on certain holes...ourselves...and we now faced the daunting task of placing all of them where they needed to be and also faced the sickening truth of the consequences that would follow if we failed to be accurate.
And as we advanced, we were no longer walking down a fairway, we were approaching the front lines of an inherently personal battlefield and the bunkers and various other hazards were now our personal demons with which were about to engage in batlle with.
And as we measured our losses, counted our dead and celebrated our triumphs, we were struck with a sense of serenity and tranquility as we were immersed in the silence that can only be found on a now quiet battlefield where war had once raged.
And not only were we filled with the feeling of accomplishment, we were positively brimming with the knowledge of completion.
And as we walked off that last site of battle, that flag no longer sported the word Life but had once again became a faded number 18 and as we tallied up our losses and victories, those decisions and events that were noted had again become numbers...and we had been restored back to simple men.
And since I had shot lower, Deano had to present to the champion the spoils of victory...so he ordered the pints and brought them to the table.
But since we had equally fought bravely and didn't give up when we were frustrated or lacking confidence, we had both overcame adversity and like Bowie once sang, we became heroes...just for one day.
and so I gladly paid...
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