April 21, 2018

A few thoughts while considering that maybe it’s time to get that MLB Extra Innings package on DirecTV – the Red Sox are so hot right now that it might be time to actually learn something about them.

I haven’t been following anything about the Sox – or virtually anything else – because of work and “The Client Who Shall Remain Nameless”. Tuesday and Wednesday were extraordinarily bad days, as bad as they get. The whole effort was teetering on the edge of a “China Syndrome” collapse, and then one of our India guys pulled a rabbit out of a hat and found a flaw in our programming that has enabled our part of the project to get back to where it should have been a week ago. A week late, perhaps, but at least we’re still standing. Which means the heat gets transferred to one of our vendor partner to fix their own personal version of Armageddon that is now threatening the project. By next weekend I’ll have a much better idea of where all of this is going.

…with the heat off of us – at least temporarily – I went out to hit balls today and promptly threw out my back on just the third ball I was hitting. Felt like a knife twisting into my lower-left lumbar region. This has never happened before, so I’m not sure what I did to cause it. I tried to man-up my way through the bucket but finally had to surrender halfway through so I wouldn’t end up on the ground writhing in pain in front of everyone. But the Goodboys would have been proud of me: an elderly couple two bays down were just getting ready to hit their bucket, so I offered them the rest of mine. Told them about my back but kept one for a “mind over matter” moment win which I grabbed my 9-iron, picked out a target 110 yards away, and promptly stiffed one so close it hit the stick.

“Good enough”, I said, before barely being able to limp away.

…I then went over to the chipping / putting area and tried to do some short-game work, but it was no use; I couldn’t even pick up my balls after chipping them on the green without using my club as a cane. I was trying not to make too much of a scene of it when a teenager came over to his friends on the other side of the green and asked his buds if they had an extra glove since he had forgotten his. His friend said, “but you’re a lefty!”, upon which the lad said, “that’s OK, I’ll turn it around.”

“Here”, I said, offering him my glove. “We lefties have to stick together.”

The grin on his face was something you never forget. “Thanks, dude!”, he said, and off he trotted towards the first tee’s tee box.

…I should have asked him to pick up my balls for me.

Onto other matters…

One of these days, when (if ever) work slows down, I have to figure out how to download photos from my IPhone 6SE to the computer. There’s a mourning dove who has taken to nesting in a small planter next to the house on top of the piling by the gate that opens to the side and back yards. She’s been there for three weeks now, and doesn’t seem to mind me opening the gate to take the trash barrels out as long as I do it gently and quietly and do not – do not place the lock next to the planter like I normally do. We’re hoping in the next week or two to have a baby dove join the family of creation! I took a nice picture of it and will get it for y’all once things settle down. Of course, by then it will be meaningless, won’t it?

With Tracey’s shoulder in such a bad way our plans to get our concealed carry licenses and pick out our weapons of choice are on hold, but that didn’t stop me from joining the NRA today. Screw the Democrats and the snowflake gun-confiscation warriors out there. Gun control my ass – once I have my gun they can try and pry it from my cold, dead hands.

First it was Randy Wayne White with his Doc Ford series of novels. Then it was James Lee Burke and his Dave Robicheaux and Billy Bob Holland series of novels. Now it’s Wayne Stinnett and his Jesse McDermitt “Caribbean Adventure Series” of action-adventure books. Never thought I’d ever get so much into fiction, but these have become my means of escape during this lengthy stretch of work and stress.

I can’t help but think my back going out today while hitting balls is to a great degree work-related. My sister-in-law Tam gave me a muscle relaxant and I’m going in for a long, hot soak in the tub. What I wouldn’t give to be at the Wynn Las Vegas spa for a hot whirlpool and a deep-muscle massage!

Tomorrow it’s back into the meat grinder and another 14-hour day. We’ll see what the next week brings. I can tell y’all this: I’m getting too old for this sh*t.

The Ventures’ “Blue Dawn” is a surf classic, dontcha think? Surf music and golf are a great combination.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 19:58 | Comment (1)
1 Comment
  1. Hope your back is Berber and Tracey is doing better. As for your photos in your phone just forward them to your email and then hit save to pictures in the computer. Easy peasey

    Comment by Jana — April 22, 2018 @ 5:09 am

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