The Masters - A Review

I went to the Masters (golf) this past weekend at Augusta National. My father asked if I wanted to go about a month ago and I jumped at the opportunity. I've never seen a professional tournament and I thought it might be a once in a lifetime opportunity. Even if you don't like golf going and sitting out in the beautiful sun among the immaculately landscaped fairways is not a bad way to spend your Saturday.

I don't know how they do it, but the grass at Augusta is just slightly lower than ground level. And that is in the "rough" area. On every single course I have ever played the "rough" is basically an inch tall and it will swallow your ball. Or, on the really bad courses, it's just crab grass. At Augusta there was scarcely a difference between the rough and the fairway.

One thing I was not prepared for at Augusta National was the outrageous percentage of men smoking cigars. Nasty.

Almost no one smoked a cigarette, but there was no less than one in ten men smoking cigars. Which, as you can imagine, sort of spoiled the wonderful, green experience I was having. Just as I was about to watch a beautiful drive on a par 3 a cloud of smoke came creeping along on the tail of a dirty joke being told by one 40+ year old who must have been thinking that his joke was too funny for everyone around him to notice that he was tugging a bit to frequently at his genitals.
PREDICTION: I see a clinic visit in his future.

He and his buddies were chatting up a storm and looking much like industrial revolution London, except that they were wearing modern cotton blended fibers that "wick" the sweat away from your body. And they clearly all had waxed their eyebrows.

Our 40 year old was telling his joke to this 20-ish year old woman who looked to me like she didn't want to be disgusted by the smoke, the man or the joke, but despite her efforts she was, all three.

Seconds later, after I finished gagging on smoke, and after I missed the awesome drive, a pretty lady with a very large hat came and sat down right in front of my dad. His entire view was obstructed. We chuckled at first, but then she proceeded to tell the guy she sat down beside about all of the things she had purchased at the golf shop. I swear, she paid $100.00 for what amounted to a white T-shirt with the Masters logo on it. "A great deal" so she said. I won't blame people for being rich, because I usually wish I was. But I will blame them and make fun of them for being stupid.

Anyway, she talked about her purchases for no less than 5 minutes and then segued into the things she wished she could buy, and by chance did he know what what's-her-face would like, because her birthday was near and she wanted to get her something from here. The guy said that she would like a shirt and if she was going back to the store could he get an extra one and he would pay her back. She said yes. I thought he was doing us a favor by getting rid of the little chatterbox, but ere she was standing to go he grabbed her arm and began a completely different conversation that lasted 15 minutes! Two groups of golfers passed as they chatted. Finally, she asked if he was enjoying the match and he said that he wasn't and he was about to go to his cabin and watch it on TV. She asked if she could join him and I assume they both went and spent a buzillion dollars on Masters coozy cup holders and had adulterous sex while smoking cigars - the Masters on ESPN in the background. But what do I know. It could have been innocent.

So anyway, some reviews.

REVIEW: THE MASTERS
~too much for one review. must be broken down

THE GROUNDS OF AUGUSTA NATIONAL
A+
The are the nicest grounds I have ever walked on, and I have played at some nice clubs. I will never play Augusta National because I will never be able to afford and membership. And even if I could afford it, I wouldn't feel right about belonging to a club that still, in 2011, dose not allow women.

AUGUSTA'S GENDER POLICY
F

CIGAR SMOKING
F-
Why do rich guys smoke cigars? Aren't rich people supposed to be educated. Haven't they heard of cancer? I know that rich people belong to a secret society of semi-immortals, but still, why take the chance. And besides, I cannot be the only one who has noticed the clear phallic resemblance. What is the draw to putting a giant paper penis in your mouth and sucking on it for an hour?

THE ACTUAL GOLFING
B
I saw some really sweet shots, but mostly I saw plain golf. Tiger Woods shot par, which is terrible for a pro. Apparently he had to take 6 months off to learn a new swing because his biceps have gotten too big. I can't imagine what my boss would do if I told him I had to take 6 months off because my biceps had gotten to big and I could no longer type right.

I'm gonna try it and see what happens. Maybe if I do it while smoking a cigar and grabbing my balls a lot he'll think I'm a semi-immortal and he'll promote me.

Heart Healthy drinks

So I was thinking about healthy foods and healthy eating and it occurred to me that most health foods are only passively healthy. I think science should create foods that are aggressively healthy. Mostly because I'm lazy, but I want to live forever anyway.

My Idea: I think we should develop a drink that has enough caffeine in it to amp up our heart rate to 70/75% of our maximum heart rate and keep it there for 20 minutes.

I told my friend, Keith, about my idea. He's a nurse practitioner who specializes in cardiovascular health.

I asked:
If I drink enough caffeine to get my heart rate up to 75% of my max for 20 minutes would it count as a cardio work out?

He answered:
Yes, until you go into V-fib and die. Then it would stop being cardio.


So there are some kinks I need to work out in my idea. But rest assured, aggressively healthy foods are the future.

Prediction:
By the year 2020 they'll have drinks that can make you fly!

401

In case anyone is keeping track, that last post was 400 for this blog. Making this one the larger, but far less commemorable 401!

My blogging usually picks up around the holidays. Maybe if I get depressed enough it will provide me with the inspiration to entertain you all will my misery.

Last week, by the way, I was told by a homeless person that I had 5 years to surrender to God. I don't remember his name, it was either Ronald or Roland. But his title was The One Eye'd Blues Man. He said that he was the son of a man who played blues with people whose names sounded almost familiar enough to be people who might have played along side of people who might have known famous blues players.

He said that he walked by me and was told by God to turn around and introduce himself. He asked my name. I hate telling people I don't know my name. It was a good year before I printed it on this blog. Anyway, he played Amazing Grace on the harmonica for me. It was actually pretty good. Then he talked to me for a good 5 minutes. I don't really know what he was talking about because there was a lot of mumbling and the cars and trucks going by make a lot of noise, but a lot had to do with the Bible. He asked if I knew that my name, Michael, was the name of the Archangel. I told him I did. And then, if I'm not mistaken, he said I was either AN angel or THE ARCHANGEL. I told him that I was not an angel and -tongue in cheek - said that he could talk to my wife about that. This apparently offended him and he told me that he didn't need to talk to my wife, that he knew. And he told me that I would hae to surrender to the Lord in 5 years time.

I said, "Excuse me?"

But there were buses and trucks and I really didn't understand what he was saying. Either I'm going to have kind of life altering experience that will cause me to want to change my purpose, OR, he might have been saying - and really, I'm not saying this guy was crazy - but he might have been saying that I would become the Archangel Michael.

I wonder if I get to choose.

Stupid Morning

Everyone probably already knows I'm not very much for morning people. I am not one myself. Life doesn't begin until 10 or 11am. But today I learned that not only am I not a morning person, but I'm even less of a morning person when it is 90 degrees in my bedroom. Then I am what is known as a Morning Bastard.

I'd like to take this moment to apologize to my wife.

Sorry, Sweetie.

Review:
BROKEN AIR CONDITIONING UNIT
D -for Dammit

yesterday I came home and found a notice on my door that my gas had been turned off because I apparently owned the gas company a spleen. (I really thought I gave them my spleen last month.) then to add insult to injury I walked upstairs to change clothes and as I rose up the stairs I very quickly became aware of a problem. when I hit stair six my head got warm; very warm. stair seven: my shoulders were warm and my head was hot. stair eight: belly warm, shoulders hot, head an inferno!

I didn't have to look to know that my upstairs AC unit had crapped out. it was 96 degrees in my bedroom. I need to repeat that. it was 96 degrees in my bedroom. as I stood there and puzzled over the thermostat it rose to 97 - just in case I hadn't noticed that it was hot as *&%$.

and in my growing tidal wave of sweat I had a vision of the future. here I share with you what is my first, and perhaps my last fatidic.

Prediction:
I predict that in the very near future I will be writing a Review about how f-ing expensive HVAC repairs are, and how there is no reasonable way that an air pump can cost 2 grand.


Review:
GETTING THE KIDS TO SLEEP IN 90 DEGREES
B -for Bribing doesn't work.

kids know it is friggin hot. they aren't afraid to tell you. and they aren't afraid to look you straight in the eye and say, "Did you pay the Air Conditioner bill?" they also know the number to the Department of Family and Children Services and they aren't afraid to use it either. as badly as things went last night they will not go so well tonight, I think.


Review:
APOLOGIZING TO YOUR WIFE FOR NOT HAVING ANY MONEY SAVED FOR JUST SUCH AN EMERGENCY
O.H. -for Old Hat

when you work for the state government this is kinda your schtick.

me: I'm sorry.
her: I know.