Courtesy of an e-mail from my folks, this is pretty good:

In My Hand I Hold A Ball,
White And Dimpled, And Rather Small.
Oh How Bland It Does Appear,
This Harmless Looking Little Sphere.

By Its Size I Could Not Guess,
Or The Awesome Strength It Does Possess.
But Since I Fell Beneath Its Spell,
I’ve Wandered Through The Fires Of Hell.

My Life Has Not Been Quite The Same,
Since I Chose To Play This Stupid Game.
It Rules My Mind For Hours On End,
A Fortune It Has Made Me Spend.

It Has Made Me Curse And Cry,
And Hate Myself And Want To Die.
It Promises A Thing Called Par,
Even If I Can Hit It Straight And Far.

To Master Such A Tiny Ball,
Should Not Be Very Hard At All.
But My Desires The Ball Refuses,
And Does Exactly As It Chooses.

It Hooks And Slices, Dribbles And Dies,
And Even Disappears Before My Eyes.
Often It Will Have A Whim,
To Hit A Tree Or Take A Swim.

With Miles Of Grass On Which To Land,
It Finds A Tiny Patch Of Sand.
Then Has Me Offering Up My Soul,
If Only It Would Find The Hole.

It’s Made Me Whimper Like A Pup,
And Swear That I Will Give It Up.
And Take To Drink To Ease My Sorrow,
But The Ball Knows … I’ll Be Back Tomorrow.

It sure don’t look like it back at Goodboys Nation headquarters…

…but this weekend here in the Southwest jurisdiction of the ‘Nation we’re looking at a hint of spring, with temps in the low ’70s. People don’t line in Arizona for the summers.

But chins up, fellow Goodboys – planning is already underway for GB20, and scenes just like this…

…will be here before you know it.

(Snow pictures courtesy of National Review Online’s Corner Blog)

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Pool temp: 54 degrees