Friday, March 22, 2013

Golf: I'm Doing It Wrong

(post copyright 2013, Dawn Weber)

Golf - what's not to love? You're outside, you're drinking beer, and you're around lots of happy, relaxed men - many of whom may buy more beer.

Everybody wins.

And so each spring it happens: I get the Big Idea. I really should just lie down until these ideas go away, but I never do.

No, I get it in my head that this will be The Year, the one Wherein I Learn to Play Golf.

Now, I am a middle-aged white woman with a big wide rear-end and plenty of hideous, sensible shorts. So you'd think I'd already know how to golf.

But I don't. For many decades years now, I've been engaged in the process of just learning how to hit the ball, or "drive" I guess the kids call it these days. This is much harder than it looks - for me, anyway. 

So every March, I drag out my clubs, a gift the husband bought me one year after I excitedly told him my Big Idea:

"I want to learn to play golf!"

He's heard many of my "I want to learn . . . " Big Ideas - drawing, painting, piano-playing, jewelry-making. Most of these I've taught myself - or completely forgotten about; all of these have left us light in the wallet and heavy on accumulated junk supplies.

So, being the smart, sweet cheap frugal man he is, when I said, "Golf!" he went out and bought me a set of clubs - at a garage sale.

And that's fine with me, because the red-and-white, 30-year-old Wilson golf bag looks cool and kind of retro, and also meets what - in my eyes - ranks as the Most Important Golf Requirement:
It matches my shoes.

Ah, shoes.

Where was I?

Oh yes - golf. He bought me the cool bag and a bunch of clubs, all of which had numbers - 3, 5, 9 - that signified nothing to me, although I did recognize the putter from playing Putt-Putt. I can kick some Putt-Putt ass.

He put a tee and ball down in the grass, and began showing me how to hit the ball, or "drive" as the kids call it these days. He taught me how to grip the club, and he demonstrated the swing, the "all in the hips," then he set me up and came up behind me to lead my body through a swing, whereupon he faux-humped me and I punched him in the nuts. Lesson over.

His obssessive faux-humping is a chapter unto itself . . .

(Stay tuned! This is an excerpt from my upcoming book, and you'll want to read the rest because it contains boobs. 
No, not PICTURES of boobs, you perv. 
Just boobs. 
No, not pictures!)


  1. Sounds like me and bowling. :-)

    Shoes! (Other people's shoes...)


  2. Lesson one: never have your husband teach you how to golf. They will hump you thru 18 holes (so to speak!) So funny and relatable. Been there. Can't wait to read MORE!!

  3. LOL! I'm sure you'll get into the swing of it soon. ;) (Sorry. Couldn't resist.)

  4. You had me at boobs but lost me at no pictures. It is hard not to hump someone while teaching how to swing a club.

  5. Tennis was my "golf." Clearly, it's something one should endeavor to start before the eye/hand coordination starts to fail. Good luck with that swing.

  6. You're a braver woman than I. The extent of my golf game occurs when the mini-golf course windmill eats my ball and I don't have to swing anymore. But I think your shoes are cute.


  7. It reminds me of the story about the woman who wanted golf lessons. Her husband purchased a package deal at one of the local golf courses. During a putting lesson, the golf pro told her she was gripping the club too hard and to pretend like she was holding her husband's penis when she hit the ball.

    And she hit the ball right into the cup.

    And then the golf pro said, "Well, that's a lot better, but this time take the club out of your mouth."

  8. Set up a tee time and I will meet you for a round of golf! I have beer!!

  9. Pearl - I think bowling shoes are super cute! The fact that thousands have worn them, though, is not so cute.
    Stacey - Thank you for the tip - guess I won't play a full game with him, as I have no desire to be "humped through 18 holes." haha
    Linda - Ba-dum-bump! Linda's here all week! Tip your servers! ;)
    PT - you're a faux-humper, too! That explains a lot. ;)
    Jayne - Oh, I had the tennis phase too. The unused rackets are in the garage, sobbing quietly to each other.
    Robyn - Ooooh...Putt-Putt! I enjoy it, can kick some putt putt ass.
    Ami - Hah! Awesome story. I'll remember that next March, when I drag out the bag again.
    RJ - I figured you would! If I ever learn to hit the ball, or "drive" as the kids say, we'll play a round.
    You will have a very long wait.

  10. Golf.
    Now, if you could switch my bowling with my golf scores, I'd be a pro in each sport.
    Ancient Scottish for "Oh, fuck!"
    I took lessons a couple years ago. When the instructor asked us what we hoped to accomplish after taking his course, I replied, "I'd like to get good enough to suck."
    I don't lose too many balls (insert joke here. Go ahead. I would) because they only go about twenty feet.
    I can drink beer on the course.
    And that is why I love it so.

  11. Penwasser - Beer. Outside. exactly! I, too, dream of being good enough to suck.
    Wait. That didn't come out right, did it?

  12. All this ball whacking, faux-humping, boobs, sucking, etc., sounds like a lot of sexual repression. Maybe I'm not so different after all.

  13. "he faux-humped me and I punched him in the nuts."
    He should have known what's par for that hole.

  14. Jono - Jeez, you make it sound so . . . dirty and wrong. But if sucking at golf is wrong, well, I will never be right.
    Larry - exactly. ;)

  15. Gale Cady WilliamsMarch 27, 2013 at 5:08 PM

    I really love the red and white leather golf bag; it matches my kitchen. That alone is reason to love the... IDEA... of golf.

  16. I went to a driving range once. Kept swinging the club like I was trying out for little league. I sucked. Which meant the experience sucked. I decided I should stick to drinking wine.

    The faux-humping sounds fun though!

  17. I went to the driving range once too. I was swinging for the fence and a home run though. Because I had played baseball and was good at it. Keep your eye on he ball right? Golf can be fun, and who said you can't make up your own rules? The more you drink, the more the rules change to accomodate your game that day.

    If he was going to try humping on you- why go with the faux?

  18. Gale - I do love that bag. It's what keeps me out there, trying and failing, March after March after March.
    Vixen - the faux-humping would be fun. If it wasn't CONSTANT.
    Pixie - Great job on the home run. About the humping, see sentence re: CONSTANT, above. ;)

  19. Boy, that Anonymous really has some good things to say, huh?

  20. No doubt, Penwasser. We can always count on our boy Anonymous for some incoherent idiocy.

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