So I wonder, then, if I’m not old, why all I talk about are “procedures,” friends who are sick, and incarcerating or otherwise caring for our parents prior to burying them.
It’s enough to make a guy hide his head … preferably, if it came to that, in a greenside bunker of fine white sand in a place warm and dry, which as the rain clatters on the roof seems long ago and far in the future, if ever, in some enchanted land where young, strong people play golf in the sunshine.
Such a place, if it existed, might look something like Hawaii. The young and the strong of the PGA Tour, unruffled by the trade winds of time, are in the Aloha State for a second straight week. Dustin Johnson, the strongest though not the youngest, is not in the field after an eight-stroke victory at the Tournament of Champions last weekend on Maui. But Justin Thomas is, the winner here in Honolulu last year in the second of a Hawaii two-fer.
Me, I’m prepping. For a procedure. I also have to find time for a couple phone calls to friends about topics I wish I didn’t have to touch. I’m so glad I’m not old.
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