Sure, I suppose I could have posted a picture of witches or pumpkins, but this pic I took next to my folks apartment complex during my recent visit, I think, captures all the right themes. October? Check. Cemetary? Check. Spooky gravestones and trees? Check. It’s hard to believe that the very leaves on those big beautiful trees have already probably come down, laying the groundwork not for October, but November, and that gray sullen period between fall and winter that I always used to love.

We typically haven’t done anything for Halloween, but this year, because my mom basically told me not to be a Scrooge, we’re actually going to put our outside light on and be ready to hand out Hershey bars and Kit Kats to any ghost and goblin willing to risk their way down to the end of our cul-de-sac. I’m not crazy about the idea, and neither is Tracey, so we’ve enlisted my sister-in-law Tammy to take care of the proceedings. Being a kid at heart (and a mother who’s seen all this before) she’s more than happy to take care of it.

If I had my drudges I’d simply put my wireless speakers out front and play Pink Floyd’s Careful With That Axe, Eugene – a song commenter Kirk Landau nails as a perfect example of early Pink Floyd music…

The early Pink Floyd songs such as this one, Saucerful of Secrets, and Interstellar Overdrive are their greatest. And also among the greatest musical compositions of the 20th century. Think of these songs as sonic painting (Syd Barrett, PF’s original prophet, was ultimately a painter after-all), or sound as sculpture and cinematography. Like, as if in a meditative trance, murky enigmatic visions are slowly revealed, scenes/portraits of vast cosmic phenomena, the cold abstraction of space, a lonely comet, barren planets… now on earth the strange origins of life and the secret dramas of human civilization… an esoteric ceremony of druids speaking in clandestine whispers, pharoahs entombed amidst the sands of time, stone ruins of fallen civilizations, the haunted ghost cries of the fallen on ancient battlefields, etc (anything you personally imagine). It accomplishes this through a sense of atmosphere and suspension of time into stream-of-consciousness. It doesn’t spell things out for you like most music, it encrypts them in ambiguous nuance. The open-form of it is more like classical symphony / chamber music or jazz improvisation (also ambient music before its time). The key to listening is deep-focus and not consciously thinking, but letting the music guide your wandering mind wherever it will go, you are just a witness.

…played in a loop over and over, but I don’t want to piss off my neighbors and frighten off the ghurkins to the point where they’re put on anti-depressants by their freaked-out parents. Instead, we’ll just head across the street and watch for trick or treaters while enjoying the pot of chili our neighbors John and Mary typically make to celebrate the night.

(Speaking of that song, BTW, my brother Mark and I absolutely loved it, and Mom thought it was one of the most awful things she’d ever listened to. Just listen to how the song turns, at around the 2:50 mark, from a kind of noodling, dream-like thing to something altogether sinister. The echoed vocal, mournful organ, throbbing bass and ominous percussion can’t prepare you for the screaming that turns it into a psychedelic bloody massacre filled with grungy guitar chords courtesy of original founder Syd Barrett’s recent replacement David Gilmour. The song’s a tour de force, perfect for Halloween.

Happy Halloween from all the Goodboys and Goodboys Nation blog!

My 10-day New England visit is rapidly coming to a close, but before I headed back to the Valley of the Sun there was one final stop I needed to make. Newport, Rhode Island is one of my all-time favorite places to visit. It has a cozy old-time New England seafaring feel to it, the food is always good, and the waterfront views are a nice change to land-locked Arizona. Here’s the view from my hotel room:

I’ve come to Newport to play golf at Newport National Golf Club – a course I’ve wanted to play for a long time. Frankly, until this year I haven’t felt my game was up to it. But after my play at Goodboys this year, and especially following some tweaks to my short game that resulted in a solid 98 at Portsmouth Country Club this past weekend, I think I’m ready to give it a go.

Tomorrow I’ll be flying back to the Valley of the Sun. It’s been a great New England visit – I’ve had lots of time to spend with family and friends and have actually taken a good amount of time away from work – but it’s time. I’ve got a bunch of chores both inside and out needing to get started on with the holiday season rapidly approaching, and it will be good to give them some much-needed attention. October is a great time to be in New England, but as my last post noted, you can feel the seasons changing, and in New England that’s not for the better. Arizona winter beckons, and I’m ready to head back into the warmth.

Back in Arizona the 2015-16 golf season is just beginning to heat up. The trickle of snowbirds is about to become a steady stream, the golf courses are lush and green, and the greens fees are as high as the courses can reasonably make them. Here in New England it’s quite the opposite: the days are getting shorter and colder, the sun low in the sky, and soon the clocks will be turned back, making it nearly impossible to hit a bucket of balls after work.

Still, last Friday afternoon was more than nice enough to get in a few hours work on my game, and it needed it. I hadn’t played since Goodboys Invitational weekend back in July, and I knew hitting a couple of buckets of balls back in Arizona in preparation for my trip back to New England wasn’t the same thing as playing. Still, I had shot a solid 48 on the back nine at Pease Golf Course on Tuesday but could tell my short game was in as bad shape as it had been all year. And it showed the following day with a ghastly 113 at Hickory Hill in Methuen, where not only could I not hit an iron straight all day, but chipped and putted abysmally. Work was fairly quiet on Friday morning, so I took the afternoon off and headed to World Cup Driving Range in Hudson, New Hampshire to try and work out some kinks ahead of a planned round with fellow Goodboys “Killer” Kowalski on Sunday at my #1 favorite gold course in the world, Portsmouth Country Club.

And it was there you could really feel what the end of the golf season looks like here in New England. Normally on a Friday afternoon the place is packed: the large field dotted with golfers of all ages and skills in the hitting areas set about in a large half-circle around the property. The same with the putting green and chipping area – always packed. So it felt weird to walk into the shop, plunk my $10 bill down and see only machines there to cough up the tokens. As I walked out, clubs clinking over my shoulder, it was weird to see the place so empty – just a handful of golfers silhouetted against the low October sun:

And on the putting green, just a lone individual chipping balls as yellow as some of the autumn colors behind him:

Still, even with the cool breeze, it didn’t take long before I was warm enough to abandon my pull-over. I hit a few balls and tried to think as my golf instructor Alex Black would have me do. I soon found the cause of my errant iron play: I was set up with my grip way too strong and my club face slightly closed at address. No wonder my shots were starting right and going even further right! Putting my grip to neutral and opening the club face a bit I was back to hitting a slight fade (not the power draw that Alex has been encouraging, but good enough for now), and working on not jumping at the ball. I got a second bucket and to work solely on my 100-yard in play, which has been poor all year. I never really got to where I wanted to be, but the work I got in left me in a much better place.

By the time I headed to the putting chipping area, the gentleman I had photographed had left and I had the green all to myself. I didn’t even bother to try and chip balls as I had been doing – playing the ball back in my stance and using some wrist action. Instead, I put the ball in the middle of my stance and started hitting balls without any wrist at all, a la Steve Stricker, and started seeing a higher ball flight and better distance control. I probably chipped a hundred balls, and at no time did anyone else ever join me there. Around 4:30 you could feel a chill coming on, so I put my pull-over back on and chipped a few more before calling it a day.

I have two more rounds of golf here in New England before going back, and as far as my 2015 New England golf season goes, that will be the end of it. And I’m guessing for a lot of folks around here the same holds true.

End of a lovely October week here in Massachusetts. Perfect weather for a few thoughts and comments.

And I thought this was because they finally ran out of ratty suits to give away. Or simply ran out of business. Or both.

Hillary Clinton is not just a vile, lying witch. She’s also evil.

While I admire Ben Carson for his willingness to think and speak outside the box, it seems to me this is a non-starter if you really want to be President. He’d get crucified from one end to another

This is the hurricane that Weatherbell meteorologist says is gonna cross Mexico and re-form in the Gulf of Mexico as a possible late-season hurricane.

Don Mattingly was always a lousy manager for the Los Angeles Dodgers. They were underachievers throughout his reign. But that’s what one should come to expect for any team with Adrian Gonzalez on the roster.

A hat tip to The Monkees and this lovely, gentle tune for today’s blog post title:

It’s beautiful October weather here in Massachusetts. It’s funny to think that while here to visit family and friends I’m also here to play as much golf as I can. Here the season is rapidly winding down while back in the Valley of the Sun the season is just getting ramped up as the snowbirds trickle in from Canada and points in the mid-to-upper Midwest. (And with them comes the cost of playing as well – in some cases it’s triple what the courses charge during the off-season). But that’s OK – I prefer my golf New England style, anyways.

Lots of folks here are still talking about the Indianapolis Colts play against the New England Patriots on Sunday – in fact, that’s pretty much all they’re talking about. I mean, it was a broken play, so what? Happens all the time, doesn’t it?

Me? I still can’t get over that crazy ending to the Michigan / Michigan State game on Saturday? As soon as I saw it I said to the guy sitting at the bar next to me that the poor kid’s life is going to be defined by the one play, and he’ll spend the next twenty years in rehab. But seriously, now the dude is getting death threats. All because he messed up one snap at a most inopportune moment.

I can’t help but think that if Vice-President Joe Biden enters the race for the 2016 Democratic nomination it’s only because it’s been determined that Hillary Clinton is at real risk of being indicted because of mishandling classified information because of her stupid e-mail set-up. In a real world she wouldn’t even be a candidate due to (at the very least) the gross negligence and incredibly poor lack of judgment she displayed. And that doesn’t even take into consideration her embarrassing tenure as Secretary of State.

The Kansas City Royals are looking really good against the Blue Jays. It looks like they got hot at the right and Toronto peaked to early in September. A Mets-Royals World Series would be kind of exciting.

This shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone. It’s because they are winners, and people are attracted to winners. Same reason why folks are attracted to Donald Trump’s run for president.

It’s the last monsoon-y weekend of the year here in the Valley of the Sun. I was going planning to post about other things, but his comments on Friday during a CNN interview about George W. Bush and the 9/11 attacks forced me into it. You see, like probably most people when I first heard it I thought to myself, “ahhh, The Donald, that’s a bridge too far”. Outside of, perhaps, wanting to find another way to jab at poor Jeb Bush (which I think he could have done in another way) I couldn’t figure it out.

You see, there are those out there (especially in the GOP establishment) that thinks Trump talks out of his head and doesn’t have a clue half the time about what he’s saying. But not me. I think Trump knows exactly what he is saying all the time and not just says things he believes, but things he knows will gain him publicity and get people talking about him. After all, The Donald isn’t called The Donald for nothing – his goal is to put the rest of the Republican field on the defensive, and all the time. He knows if you’re not winning you’re losing, and if you’re not playing offense you’re playing defense. It’s that simple.

But as I got to thinking about his comments, it all started to make sense. First of all, it’s no secret Trump is no fan of the W presidency, and when Jeb pointed out during the last debate that he “kept America safe”, he should have clarified the remark to mean after the 9/11 attacks. But looking back, did W actually keep us safe? After all, we went into Afghanistan, and then ill-advisedly in Iraq, which in turn forced the country to commit it’s money and resources into two operations that have got us nothing but a Mideast meltdown and only the lives and limbs of our veterans to show for it. And he did nothing on immigration which contributed to the mess we are in right now.

Secondly (and I think more importantly, as commenter “johnms” writes in response to this post at Red State blog), this is Trump laying the foundation for his general election strategy going forward. As the commenter writes:

This is battlespace preparation for Hillary. Trump’s basic message is that public officials are in some way responsible for what happens on their watch. The entire premise of the Clinton campaign is that Hillary is not responsible in any way for all the things that happened on her watch. Trump just indirectly attacked that premise, brilliantly using GWB as a proxy for Hillary. Look at all the liberal Democrats succumbing to their GWB derangement and jumping on the bandwagon. They don’t even see that this line of attack — holding public officials responsible for what has happened on their watch — only applies to Hillary. Nothing has happened on Trump’s watch. He has never held office. If GWB was responsible in some way for 9/11, then who is responsible for Benghazi? Classified email on Hillary’s bathroom server? Etc? Trump just planted a land mine in Hillary’s back yard.

And I think in that context everything Trump says makes sense. Which once again reinforces what so many people have come to like and respect about him. He’s not going to toe the party line. He’s not going to try and out-compassion the GOP field begging people to think they’re as compassionate as the Democrats. Trump is about the rule of law, taking care of the country, and being accountable. And you may not like him but he will make you respect him.

In doing so he’s starting to make a GOP establishment that has pooh-poohed and ridiculed his candidacy from the start begin to recognize what others have from the start, that Trump may indeed have a chance at gaining the GOP nomination after all. As I’ve written before, people are hungering for not just a charismatic messenger (we already got that in Barack Obama), but one who more importantly has a positive message that combines a love for this country with the desire and will to get things done without the mealy-mouthed filter that political types blather based on the latest focus groups and polls. He’s an outsider in an election that will come down to the outsiders vs. the Washington / Beltway establishment; his candidacy is a unique event in political history because of the moment.

Trump, like him or not, is a winner, and America right now is craving a winner. And as he continues to sit atop the polls, more people are just going to gravitate to his candidacy because people (whether they’re willing to admit it or not) like to be associated with winners. And unless Trump were to do something incredibly stupid (something not totally out of the realm of possibility) there will come a point that his nomination becomes a foregone conclusion.

I’ll be heading back home to Massachusetts this weekend so it’s time to clear off the blogging desk.

Geez, wasn’t it like, I dunno, a few weeks ago that Jordan Spieth was hoisting the FedEx Cup trophy and cashing that $10 million dollar check? And yet, here we go, another PGA Tour season is already upon us. 2016 is going to be a weird year with the final two majors, the Olympics, and the Ryder Cup all falling within weeks of each other. Everyone is predicting a monster year for Rory McIlroy, and it will be interesting to see where Spieth and Jason Day are also able to repeat their own successes during the 2014-15 season. No matter what, it oughta be exciting.

Anyone who thinks Donald Trump’s candidacy is going to fade ought to read this story. The fact is, like him or not, the guy knows how to win and doesn’t believe in finishing second. You can talk about any of the other candidates – on either side – but you can’t watch a Trump event without seeing what the attraction is: he loves this country, his confidence and positive can-do message is infectious, and he surrounds himself with winners.

I believe people are starving for a leader with a positive message. We’ve had nearly eight years of the Democrats and their mouthpieces in the mainstream media telling us everything that’s wrong with this country, that we’re no longer capable of greatness, and that we’re so helpless and stupid that we need the nanny state to help us and nurture us. Trump is different. He’s only interested in winning, and anyone who has played competitive sports (of which politics is) will tell you that winning begets winning. With the holidays right around the corner and the Iowa caucuses just weeks thereafter, I think he’s in a very strong position.

We’re now just weeks away from the release of Pink Floyd’s last album. Can’t wait to hear it.

Somehow I just have a feeling Democrats are making a huge mistake putting all of their eggs in the Hillary Clinton basket. Make no mistake about it: this is all inside baseball between Debbie Wasserman-Schultz’s DNC and the Clintons. While I have little doubt that the mainstream media, the Beltway establishment, and the Clintonistas on Wall Street believe her presidency is a forgone conclusion, I’m betting that a significant block of Democrats won’t like having a lying, unethical political hack like Hillary Clinton shoved down their collective throats.

Hasn’t this been a great year for October baseball? Three out of the four playoff rounds go to a fifth game, all with lots of excitement. I’m rooting for the Blue Jays and the Cubs to make it to the World Series, and would love to see the Blue Jays take it all.

My God, if that’s the best of what the Democrats have for 2016 that party is in one heck of a mess. I dare say, you could put the second tier of Republican candidates on the stage with any of them and they would wipe the floor. I’m going out on a limb and say that Bernie Sanders, who is beyond a total loon, won the debate only because Hillary is so beyond unlikeable and without a shred of integrity whatsoever. It’s hard to believe come 2015 that the Democratic Party has been reduced to a bunch of caricatures that have no business being elected for dog catcher, never mind President of the United States.

We live in the craziest election cycle this country has ever known, but it’s only because Washington is so insulated from real life and beyond anything remotely associated with leadership. Democrats and Republicans both are only interested in feathering their own pockets, feeding off the public trough and getting re-elected. It’s only in this environment that a Donald Trump could even hope to compete. But I like the way he is what he is, not afraid to call ’em as he sees ’em, and tell the media to go screw.

More than ever, I’m with The Donald, and I would love to see it all come down to him and Bernie Sanders. Both party establishments deserve exactly what they get.

Hat tip on that pic: Free Republic Online. My apologies, I can’t remember the post I got it off of, but it’s way cool.

I guess when it comes to age-y kinds of milestones, I’ll admit this is a big one. Never mind the fact that turning sixty today is considered what turning fifty used to be; when I was growing up folks that were in their fifties were adults but sixty was elderly, an age where if you worked you were thinking retirement, an age reserved for grandparents doting on their grandchildren. But here I am at sixty, and I guess there is not much to say except it is what it is and that I have been, in the words of John Fogerty, quite the “fortunate son”. I think of a line from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby”:

…“Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”

Of course that rule doesn’t count when it comes to liberals and liberalism in general. 🙂 But the fact is I’ve had a lot of advantages. Growing up in the kind of small town that rarely exists anymore. Wonderful parents. A close extended family. Good genes. Wonderful and loyal friendships that have lasted decades. From my parents and aunt and uncle, a sense of what taste, class, and appreciation are. The ability to travel: seeing the Caribbean, and Mexico, and Las Vegas, and Bermuda, and New Orleans, and experiencing what it’s like to wear a tuxedo on a cruise ship during formal nights and not even asking why. Possessing an appreciation and an ear for music. And the same for God’s creation, a sense of right vs. wrong, and doing unto others as you’d have them do unto you. These are all things that are hard to teach in and of themselves; some people are simply born without them, for whatever reason. I’ve also been blessed with a life of good health: sure, I had my prostate removed (five years ago, no reoccurrence of cancer!), but other than that I’ve never broken a bone, nor spent more than a night in the hospital. Knock on wood.

Sure, along the way, I’ve made my share of mistakes, caused my share of hurts and disappointments, and created more than my share of gray hairs on my parents’ heads, but I’ve never claimed to be perfect. I have my faults just like anyone else, and am oftentimes too quick to speak and act without thinking things through, but better in my view to be impulsive and passionate about things then letting the world run you over and leave you full of regrets of things never done and never said out of hesitation and reticence.

As I was saying to Tracey over cocktails as we celebrated our 29th anniversary a couple of weeks ago, when you’re turning sixty you start seeing your world a whole lot differently. I don’t feel as if I’m slowing down any (although following a workday featuring 7 AM calls with India I do look forward to my afternoon nap!), but I’m coming to see my own life voyage in a different way. The things that at one time seemed to drive me in an active way I now accept and embrace more passively. I enjoy the challenge of the wee bit of gardening and landscape design I do (there’s a little Eden inside this little postage stamp we call the Richard hacienda), and I hope it is pleasing to the Creator from Whom all comes. Family and friends are more important than ever, as is working out at the gym and hitting golf balls. My religion, while still there, less so. I know I’m imperfect. I know I’m a sinner. And I know I’ve made huge mistakes in my life, but I’m not making any apologies – my life lived is what it is, for better or for worse.

I feel fortunate that I grew up in a time that, whether it was or not, life seemed simpler. People were more engaged with each other, knew manners, and had consideration for others – you had to if you wanted to get by in that world. A time when one’s word was your word. Unlike for the couple I saw having dinner the other night who ate their entire meal with their noses down at their iPads, speaking nary a few words to each other the whole time, I grew up in an age where you had to interact and engage with people, to share stories, to learn from each other. And if somewhere along the way you got beat up or you beat someone else up, well, that was just the experience of growing up.

I’ll admit to having become somewhat of a curmudgeon. I don’t like what my generation (the so-called “baby boomers”) have done to this world via the whiny, lazy, mushy, overly-sensitive, and self-absorbed generation they have foisted on this country and the world. I’m sure there are exceptions, but not many. And it chills me to think that the morons spit out by my generation and our country’s public school and university systems are the same ones I’ll be pleading with repeatedly to replace my bedpan in another twenty years or so while they sit there doing what goes for tweeting or taking selfies at that time. (Hopefully by that time they’ll have all been replaced by robots programmed to know what doing a good job and having responsibility means!)

But I digress.

I have no clue as to where the road will lead from here, and that’s OK with me. By the time you’re reading this I’ll have turned sixty – the first member of Goodboys Nation to have ever made it to that age. I don’t really have any goals that I’d consider long-term. If possible I’d like to work full-time until I’m 67 or so. I’d like to achieve bogey-and-a-half golf consistently. I’d like my dichondra (south lawn) and sun-and-shade grass (east lawn) to come up and stay green all the time. I’d like to take another cruise, if only to be reminded once more just how truly unique and otherworldly the experience was in that golden age when Auntie Marge first talked Tracey and I into taking our first cruise. Another trip to Vegas is a must. Most of all, I just want to spend as much time with my family and my friends while we’re all still around: I cherish the simple pleasures of a game of cribbage with my parents and a round of golf or dinner with my friends. And if that’s not possible, there’s always the Pinot Grigio sipped amidst the quiet and peace of of the back patio looking at the palm trees and the stars.

I always thought that turning sixty meant that life would begin to slow down, but I’ve found (as I’m sure y’all have) that it’s doing nothing but accelerating. I’m guessing it’s times we live in and the technology surrounding us that creates the sense of everything speeding to whatever end awaits each of us. Hence the importance of forcing one’s self to slow down in order to appreciate the smaller, important things and worry about how you’ll deal with the bigger stuff whenever it inevitably comes.

OK, enough philosophizing; it’s time to start another day of work. India awaits.

Usually it’s the second week here in the Valley of the Sun that the heat god flips the switch and we descend into “Arizona winter”, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to be the case this year. In fact, it looks like my post a week or so ago proclaiming we had seen out last 100+ day for the year was a bit premature: we could, in fact, have two days next week where we’re over 100.

Still, the calendar says October, and I’ll enter my last day on earth with a “5” in front of my age with this delightful little poem for October:

“Colors burst in wild explosions
Fiery, flaming shades of fall
All in accord with my pounding heart
Behold the autumn-weaver
In bronze and yellow dying
Colors unfold into dreams
In hordes of a thousand and one
The bleeding
Unwearing their masks to the last notes of summer
Their flutes and horns in nightly swarming
Colors burst within
Spare me those unending fires
Bestowed upon the flaming shades of fall.”

– Dark Tranquility, With the Flaming Shades of Fall

Hat tip: egreenway.com