Skip to main content

A Bit Wordy: Geese Golfing

It was a lovely spring day. The sky was blue, the grass was green and the balls were white. I gripped the club and applied just enough pressure to allow my shoulder muscles to relax and feel the freedom of motion to complete my picturesque swing. I was feeling like the Bill Murray chopping down the flowers in Caddy Shack. (Insert my cheesy Bill Murray impression here)

Smooth it out there

Looks like he's got a four iron maybe a five. Then Howard Cosell makes a ghostly visit to the golf course. Here he is folks, a Cinderella story, out of Southwestern Ontario. He's imagining the shot. He is feeling it, believing it. He steps up. The swing. Oh, what a sight. Straight down the middle with a little draw. Should be in perfect position Jim. I don’t know who Jim was or how he got in the story, but I digress. All I had left was a one-hundred-and-twenty-yard chip. I was ready for the approach shot but this approach was going to be a little tricky. The green was not green, it was black. It was a sea of Canadian geese.

A bird of another feather

I have always wondered why they would call these foul, fowl creatures, Canadian. They're the furthest thing from Canadian. They have no manners and they are not polite. They are fierce protectors of their family. They remind of a black family from Detroit. If you try to mess with a black family from Detroit, they will f you up.

The drop

So here I am looking down at my ball, a ball that is firmly affixed to a goose turd. If this was a real tourney, I would have had to ask for relief, from the relief. At the same time, I'm pondering about the hood that took over the green.

I’m walking here!

I was started to think it was a payback thing. I remember once honking at a goose who was walking across the street. He was taking his time puffing up his chest and shaking his head. “I’m walking here” I’ll assume that was the honk.  So, I honked at him again. He honked back. It was like he was saying, “You honking at me?  I’m honking at you. Honkie” I Think he told his folks who were stealing my parking space at the mall about me. The old alpha goose said “that’s it, time for a migration meeting!”

I imagine the Alpha goose would of have a voice like Red Fox.  Follow me, stay in the V, let’s get whitey! But the younger geese had questions. Where do they hang out? Red honks back. The golf course, Dummy! Off they went, the Honkers against Honkies movement. They all honked, follow me, stay in the v, let’s get whitey. They had a plan. Time to let the turds fly. First stop. The golf course. Later they will hit the Costco parking lot, not before stopping traffic on the expressway.

So, there I was about to take my next shot, and I can already see them shaking their heads and honking at me. I’m assuming it was goose lingo for “oh no you didn’t” I couldn’t help it. I had to make a shot and I did.  I took out my pitching wedge and hit the shot. The ball landed on the green and knocked out Lamont. Now I can heard barrage of honking, and every goose was on high alert. Chest bumping and head flailing. There was no way I was going to "come at me bro" with these guys.  I left the ball behind and gave my self a birdie because I sort of got one. Meanwhile, Red Fox is looking down at Lamont. “Speak to me Son” Someone yells I think that M-F’er just killed Lamont. I didn’t stick around to investigate. I went to the next hole, hit the drive and high tailed it out there.

A little while later at another golf course, a red wing blackbird got wind of my adventures with the geese and decided to peck me just because. I guess news travels fast. That or he could understand the flock over his head yelling “Get whitey” He did and I ran down the eighteenth fairway yelling, what did I do? He chirped back. You know what you did! You killed Lamont.

This has been a bit wordy. Thanks for hanging in there. 

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Road Trips: Kejimkujik National Park and Historic Site

We bought a van and we did so for one reason: camping. Our first test would be at Jeremy's Bay Campground. Kejimkujik National park had many sites to choose from usually but because people were spending their hard earned money in Canada (boycotting America) we only had a few spots available. The van had stow n go seats so it gave us enough room for a couple roll out mattresses. Setting up camp was pretty simple a dinning tent a couple of chairs and a fire.  Luckily for us we were there a week before the fire ban. Things were great until it was time to sleep. There was a crying kid a few sites away who was always in trouble for something. His crying continued into the wee hours of the morning. I finally locked the doors and fell asleep. Then it was tinkle time. As I opened the door the ani-theft alarm started to blare and I couldn't turn the darn thing off. After a few minutes of frustration and yes, cussing, I got it to stop not before waking up the entire camp.   I try t...
Post a Comment
Read more

A pane in the glass

One pane of glass. One red, white and blue basketball. And one frustrating day in the window repair business.    My father was very good at repairing windows. He had plenty of practice. Our backyard was our arena, our stadium and the scene of many sporting errors.  Who done it? It all started on our one-lane road.  Every homeowner could hear the crack of the bat and then the smash of a ball. Where it came from, no one knew. We split, leaving the bat suspended just above the dust cloud. Not a kid in sight. Who done it was an unsolved mystery. All they could see was the weapon, the bat, the ball and the glass now littering the living room floor. Opps Things were different in our backyard. A wayward slapshot way upstairs. Crash. A change-up and a foul tip. Smash. Today's error: a basketball. A hook shot, nothing but air and glass. Bang. Shortly after the initial impact we heard something else, my father cuss "Friggin Kids" It was the only f word my dad was all...
Post a Comment
Read more

A note

A note to friend in Christ. I believe the house of God has many windows and many doors. Sometimes we walk in, sometimes we walk out. Sometimes we just walk away. But the windows are always open just enough to let a little light in. Sometimes we need to tip-toe and look inside once again. I looked in and there you were. I was surfing the net, to be truthful doom scrolling. Luckily, for me I saw Father James Martin SJ,  on Stephen Colbert. A spark ignited in me to share the following story. My partner is a practicing Catholic and he goes to church every Saturday night. I am more of an east meets west kind of guy. Imagine Jesus and Buddha at a bar.  I'm the bartender and I don't know who to serve first.  I have only been out since my sixtieth birthday. It was during the time of the pandemic. I was divorced and laid off. I could have easily spiraled out of control. The good news; I lost a job I hated, and I had time to write, think, walk and pray. I eventually sta...
Post a Comment
Read more