It’s My Birthday, And I’ll Blog If I Want To

OldSouth celebrates a birthday this week; today, as a matter of fact. This is not urgent news, as it appears to be an annual event for every soul on the planet. 

The bad news is that OS realizes he is one year older, and feels mortality breathing down his neck, especially as he sees those born in his year (and even those younger) called to their reward. The good news, of course, is that he is alive and healthy and alert enough to experience these moments of neurotic self-absorption, and hopefully in good enough mental frame to have the presence of mind to laugh at his own navel-gazing. 

To have been born in 1955 is a real privilege. OS remembers a childhood those even ten years younger cannot remember, before the assassinations, the upheaval of the late 1960's, TheWar(that one in Indochina, not the Middle East), Johnson's grandiosity, Nixon's paranoia, Ford's well-meaning attempts to right the ship, Carter's ineptitude--before drug use became a major problem, before the single-parent family became commonplace; before, before, before, before the wheels began to come off the culture. 

To his own children, 1955-1965 may well as well be 1890-1900, so removed is their experience from that of their father. OS and his sainted bride did all they could to form a home life that replicated that sweet and safe time, centered around books, friends, music, church, home-cooking, small-town bucolic life. The little county in which they settled is, in many ways, a time warp back to 1957, and it has been (with its many failings) a wonderful haven in which to raise the kids, both of whom now prosper wonderfully as young adults. Still, with all that, they spent formative years with the television discussing the odd sexual proclivities of a sitting president, his intern, and his cigar. It couldn't be completely banished, nor would it have been wise to do so. The world is what it is, and they had to be equipped to live effectively in it. They learned that no outrage is sufficient to merit removal from a place of responsibility, as long as one has power to share, favors to trade, money to shower in the correct directions. (Think Bernie Madoff, Jon Corzine...) They learned that virtue is indeed its own reward, but that given the choice between virtue and power, power wins the day for most people. And that the pursuit of virtue is the only sane course to chart in life. OS is unspeakably proud of them both.

In this Anno Domini of 2011, OS has felt keenly that the cultural ground has shifted under our feet, perhaps in some ominous direction. His friends report that same experience from different corners of the world. He notices that he spends less time writing in this blog, perhaps wishing to spend his energies more directly and face-to-face with family, colleagues, students, and friends. He has become rather less diplomatic of late, sensing that time is short, and he best say what he means while still he can. 

All is not darkness, and this not a day to despair; unless of course we believe that this Vale of Tears is all there is to life, that we don't live in the context of Eternity, that if there is a God he walked away from his creation. Those folks are not only mistaken, they are doomed to hopelessness, and thence to madness and cruelty.

OS once heard a grizzled old Calvinist preacher drive home three points during a dark year of these past fifty-six. It still keeps him going, all these years later.

1. God's in charge.

2. He always finishes what he begins.

3. He never leaves himself without a witness.

That being said, OS has a birthday gift for his readers--the story of a boy from El Salvador who refused to die, refused to quit, and extraordinary people who came alongside him in his fight for his life and his future.

  

OS hopes his readers take a moment to read this account of tragedy, love, perseverance, generosity and ingenuity, and take the time to share it with their circle of family and friends. Hopefully, we'll each have opportunity to participate in just such an inspiring life during the time remaining to us.

As Vacation Draws To A Close...Thoughts On The End Of Summer

OS faces a mountain of work at his desk, and musters little willingness to take it on. Vacation, modest and short though it was, has been delightful. A visit from one child at university far away, another visit to TheHighlySuccessfulChild in her new home on the East Coast, with a detour through central Virginia, off the beaten path. Places like Orange, Virginia go on the list of places to which one could happily relocate.

The 'burbs of Washington are not on that list. The bloating of the federal government for the past seventy years has turned a beautiful corner of the planet into one massive urban blight, surrounded by parking lots masquerading as interstate highways.

It is time to cut the gubbmint down to size, ya'll. One day spent attempting to drive around DC from one place to another tells the tale.

There has been time. To read. To write. To exercise, to play a bit of golf and make an acquaintance or two on the course. OS walked the back nine with a Japanese gent yesterday whose command of 'Engrish' was limited, but who played scratch golf walking, and never pulled out anything bigger than a rescue club from his bag. His reasoning was 'Driver not good, end up on beach!'.

There has been time to cook out a bit, or to stop by the local barbecue artist who smokes his ribs in a pull-behind cooker, and sells them from his trailer in the grocery store parking lot. OS wonders out loud, though: If we Southerners are such virulent racists, why is this black businessman selling out every time he shows up at the white-owned grocery store, serving up his wares to a steady stream of GoodOldBoys in their pickup trucks? Why is the local home-cooking restaurant run by the local black family crowded with white patrons and black patrons both, happily slurping down fried chicken and turnip greens?

There has been time to sleep, to pet the dogs, to spend time with the sainted Mrs. OS, to enjoy time with a student about to head to university, and to share the excitement of being the first in the family to reach that goal.

Of course, what makes that time possible is the time spent at work. And much work awaits. It's not even horrible, unpleasant work--no ditches to dig, bedpans to empty, store shelves to stock, unhappy customers to mollify. But, it is work, and it has been good to take a break.

So many voices have been berating Obama for taking a vacation this month. OS is definitely not his fan, but--everyone needs a vacation, even Himself. Leave him alone a few days, and take a few days off yourself.

Back to work...

It's Open Week, And Life Is Good

OS firmly contends that the best sport ever granted to mankind by a loving Providence is golf, for a looong list of reasons, the first of which is that civility is the first rule of conduct. No trash-talking on the tees, no A-Rod pretending to apply a tag and suckering an umpire. Players call penalties on themselves. No elbows to the face, no fistfights clearing the benches. Everybody (except maybe the senior players) keeps their teeth. Clowns like John Daley find themselves uninvited. Idiots like Tiger Woods have to behave if they ever intend to continue.

Very few injuries on the order of blown knees, concussions, broken limbs. No bleeding to staunch, and golf can be played well into old age. OS played one of the best rounds of his life in a party with a 80+ year-old retired PGA player. The old guy was spry and limber, and played bogey golf on a tough course off the blue tees.

If our culture reflected more of those values, we might just be better off.

The Open Week is the best week of the sport every year.

Here's the link to the tournament site.

Here's the link to the Royal and Ancient, who sponsor the tournament. If anybody is looking for a great cause to participate in, the R & A is a great place to begin.

The New Rules Of Golf, Edited By Obama, Pelosi, Reid, Holder and Geithner

OS ran across this, which undoubtedly has made the rounds of cyberspace a few times.

But, since we all need a grin, OS passes this uncredited bit of humor along to his readers.

President Obama has recently appointed a Golf Czar and major rule changes in the game of golf will become effective in May 2011. This is only a preview as the complete rule book (expect 2000 pages) is being rewritten as we speak. Here are a few of the changes.

Golfers with handicaps:

• below 10 will have their green fees increased by 35%.
• between 11 and 18 will see no increase in green fees.
• above 18 will get a $20 check each time they play.

The term “gimmie” will be changed to “entitlement” and will be used as follows:

• handicaps below 10, no entitlements.
• handicaps from 11 to 17, entitlements for putter length putts.
• handicaps above 18, if your ball is on green, no need to putt, just pick it up.

These entitlements are intended to bring about fairness and, most importantly, equality in scoring.

In addition, a player will be limited to a maximum of one birdie or six pars in any given 18-hole round.

Any excess must be given to those fellow players who have not yet scored a birdie or par.

Only after all players have received a birdie or par from the player actually making the birdie or par, can that player begin to count his pars and birdies again. The current USGA handicap system will be used for the above purposes, but the term “net score” will be available only for scoring those players with handicaps of 18 and above.

This is intended to “re-distribute” the success of winning by making sure that in every competition, the above 18 handicap players will post only “net score” against every other player’s gross score.

These new Rules are intended to CHANGE the game of golf.

Golf must be about Fairness. It should have nothing to do with ability, hard work, practice, and responsibility. This is the “right thing to do.”

The President Hits The Links, And His Detractors Go Nuts

OK, he went out for a round of golf on Saturday afternoon.

OS is no fan of this guy, and sincerely hope the electorate will send him on his way about eighteen month from now.

But, please...

Gadafi is going to slaughter his citizens, whether WinnerOfTheNobelPeacePrize is in the situation room watching it unfold live or not. That North African despot been at it for decades now, by the way, and has gotten really good at it. The fleet's in the Med, and the admiral has his orders. For today, that is what anyone can do.

Maybe, even Himself (and we) might benefit from four hours outside, with little to think about except advancing that little white ball toward the little hole.

OS has a gentle suggestion for all those who are apoplectic about Himself hitting the links: Take up the game yourself, and allow yourself the relief and joy of walking the golf course. The world really will be there when you head home, probably not much deteriorated from when you teed off, and you'll likely be in better shape to address your corner of it.

Just sayin'...

A Glorious Day In Middle Tennessee: 16 October 2010

Meaning to be more attentive to his duties, OS nonetheless, at Mrs. OS's urging, took the day off.

It was a glorious day, with the height of the mid-October colors almost upon us, clear blue skies, temps in the mid-70's.

We took the MuttDawg to our country vet for treatment of a skin allergy, and to purchase the breathtakingly expensive but effective flea treatments for the entire pack which are a necessity in our pest-ridden part of the country. CountryVet was delightful as always, cheerful, dry sense of humor, has forgotten more than most of his colleagues will ever learn, with his practice that treats everything from horses to pet waterfowl.

A trip to the Mennonite bakery followed. It's miles from anywhere, located in heart-breakingly beautiful rolling hill country. A group from that particular branch of Christianity moved into the area a few years ago, bought farms, set up shop, and have thrived. They've helped the area around them thrive as well. Nice folks, who dress quasi-Amish simply, but use electricity, farm equipment, etc. The bakery dining area doubles as the church meeting room on Sundays, all are welcome. The kitchen and sales area are pristine, eat-off-the-floor clean, stocking incredible baked goods, meats, cheeses, and supplies for 'scratch' cooks. The place is prospering, with its customers driving in from miles around.

The Mennonite nursery was nearby, and we hemmed MuttDawg in with huge mums and asters, and plant stands bought at a local junk shop. She looked at dubiously, settled in and continued her nap. From there, we headed to vote early at the election commission, on the courthouse square of the tiny county seat. A steady stream of voters, a cheerful atmosphere.

OS walked the back nine at the local club, and we joined friends who fixed dinner to celebrate a birthday, and the fact that both the hosts had just weathered terrible medical crises which would have killed lesser souls. Lots of laughter, and a few tears of joy shed as well.

It was a wonderful day.

OS shares this with you, especially overseas readers, not to gloat or bore, but to attempt to explain this part of the world to you, and hopefully offer an insight into what may appear bewildering from a distance.

All of this is what is known as Americana. The rolling hills are home to farms, mostly small, with a few grander homesteads, a couple of villages; and quirky, independent-minded souls, all manner of them, from demure Mennonites to outlandish Pentecostals, twelve kinds of Baptists, and some who mainly just ignore the question. Many are self-employed, 'hip-pocket' entrepreneurs, or work a 'day job' and supplement with a family business. It is a quiet, modest prosperity. No flash cars, more pickup trucks than cars driven anyway. The occasional overdone house, but mainly brick ranch homes with trimmed yards, hardwood trees, roses, sometimes fruit trees, and a dog or two.

It is far from a perfect place. But it is truly wonderful, especially on a day like we spent yesterday.

It's made possible by some things ThePeopleInCharge of the big institutions in Washington, New York, and London just don't seem to understand.

Political freedom without intimidation.

A rule of law that allows the owners of the small farms to convey clear title of their houses and lands--that seems now to have been undermined. Can't buy or sell if the paper trail has vanished into thin air, can we?

A tax system that is easy to comply with, and doesn't punish success or the building or conveyance of wealth within the family.

Religious freedom.

Local control of local issues, and most issues are local, beginning with the school system.

A financial system based upon sound accounting.

A health care system that allows the sick to be cared for, and the healers to do their jobs, without bankrupting anyone in the process.

Otherwise, these folks simply wish to be left alone, to live their lives, their families, their businesses, and their churches. No utopian schemes, no great crusades. And, it's much the same in the city neighborhoods around the country as well.

This Americana way of life is threatened by ThePeopleInCharge, who either see those people in the hills as ignorant church-going rubes, or as a source of tax money to spend on utopian schemes, or as a source of wealth to be expropriated via manipulation.

The funny-looking people in the tri-corner hats and hand-lettered signs, who have been called 'AstroTurf', and referred to as practicioners of aberrant sexual behaviors are drawn from this way of life. The last thing they want to be doing with their time is attending Tea Party rallies, but they feel they must, to give their kids, and their grandchildren, a chance to have the kind of day Mr. and Mrs. OldSouth spent yesterday.

They sense, rightly, that there are people at the helm of the major institutions of government, the academy, the press, entertainment, finance and industry who would not lose a moment's sleep if this way of life vanished into thin air, so long as their power and their wealth remained untouched by the event.

The people who live in Americana are very angry about it all. They will be marching, donating in $25 and $50 increments, and voting. Here's hoping they shift the ground out from under the feet of those who disdain them so deeply.

It's Ryder Cup Time!

Kids wait for Santa to show up every December.

OS waits for the Masters every spring, and the Ryder Cup every other fall.

It's an event that requires the winning team to play with more intelligence and selflessness than the losing team. Athletic ability is desirable, but this game is played between the ears.

The American style of golf, e.g. 'Let's just drive the stuffing out of the ball, let someone find it in the trees and then we'll figure out what to do next' won't be rewarded on this course. Ahem--Phil, Tiger, Dustin...(That link above leads to the page with the hole descriptions and flyover views. It's pretty impressive, built for this event.)

OS predicts Europe wins by 4 at least. It won't take them long, and the Sunday afternoon single pairings are always a joy to watch.

And, please! Let's not have rules officials on the course seeking their personal fifteen minutes of fame this time. Golf needs a good, happy event, after a year of public humiliations at the hands of people who really ought to know better.

How Stuff Works: Truly Cool, Simple Animations For The Laity

OldSouth has a buddy from academia whom he admires, and whose intellectual shoes he cannot tie.

A link from said buddy led to this, an elegant series of animated gifs that simply illustrate the ingenuities of the constant velocity joint, rotary engine, and much more.

As the Psalmist David noted: We are fearfully and wonderfully made. At our best, we create things like constant velocity joints, laser scalpels, the sonata-allegro and fugue forms, the pipe organ, the sonnet, golf, baseball, perspective in painting, the list goes on and on.

OS hopes you enjoy this bit of inspiration. We, who so often create chaos, are capable of such inspired greatness.

Someone, Somewhere Needs To Get A Life: Juli Inkster Tossed On A Golf Rules Violation

Were it not so heartbreaking for a classy athlete, it would be funny. But, it's not.

Somebody, with too much time on his hands, and a detailed knowledge of the rules of golf, spotted Juli Inkster taking some warm up swings on the tenth tee, using a weight on her club. From his television set. She had been waiting for half an hour to tee off, and was loosening up.

So, he calls the golf tournament, to bust her. And the tournament officials take the call! Why? What on earth were they thinking?

They let her finish the back nine, and then tell she's been DQ'd. It's heartbreaking, because she was in the hunt for the lead when they tossed her.

This is idiocy. Does baseball allow fans to phone in if they suspect a balk? Or allow TV viewers to report a corked bat? Do hockey fans get to call in high-stick penalties on a game in San Diego from a bar in Boston?

This sort of stuff poisons the well. The game is on the course, between the ropes. The TV audience, as much as some individuals may wish it, is not a participant in the tournament. If they wanna play, they need to make it through Q-School, on their own merits.

How's about a new rule in that arcane book that prohibits tournament officials from taking phone calls from wing-nuts?

OS hopes the players raise hell with tourney officials. Perhaps if some notables begin pointedly not showing up, the point may be made. Let ticket sales tank on a few events, and a new spirit of reason may yet take root.

OS also hopes the no-life twit who decided the LPGA couldn't live without him reads this. You, bubba, are the definition of a loser.

Take a hint: Most forty-year-old men have jobs and don't live in momma's basement.

Even If You Don't Follow Golf...

...do yourself a favor, and tune in to The Open this weekend.

There is no place like St. Andrews, and it feeds the soul to see the old game played on The Old Course.

The Open website carries live video and radio if your local TV doesn't broadcast.

OS could not stay awake for the opening proceedings, (3 a.m. in this time zone), but his heart was mightily cheered this morning to see that young Rory McIlroy had tied the Open record for an opening round with 63, and is three strokes clear of the field at this point. He's only twenty-one, and it is a joy to watch him play. At the other end of the age spectrum (much closer to where OS exists), to see Tom Watson par the 18th for a round of one over is also cause for cheers, and the gallery certainly gave him a lot of well-deserved love.

It's a great game, with dignity and fair play woven into the very fabric of the rules and practice. OS has a colleague with an enthusiastic grade-school daughter who has embraced the game with her whole heart. Her dad just beams when he talks about his duties as her caddy, and her growth as a young lady. He's a crack pro musician, and she studies music as well. One of his proudest moments came when she connected the dots between the two disciplines.

If OS could be King For A Day, he would arrange for every child to sing in a good choir, learn a musical instrument well, and learn to love and play golf.

Who needs LeBron, when you can have sports heroes like Rory, Phil Mickleson, Vijay Singh, and Ernie Els? The bad actors, like John Daly, get to disintegrate publicly, in both game and life, occasionally showing the old magic, as he did this morning.

Mr. Woods now lives on the bubble, and both his golf and life are under scrutiny, to see if he will choose to recover. If he blows up on the course this week, it will be a long long road back. Good wishes go his way, with the hope that his really great years lie ahead.

Chasing The Dream: CBS Plows The Ground For Golf After Tiger

It's Saturday afternoon, catching up on the work that didn't get done in the aftermath of the flood, looking for a golf tournament on the tube (Mrs. OS is a saint, enduring golf on TV as she does.)

Turning to CBS, and find a one-hour special, 'Chasing the Dream', featuring the rising generation of young golf pros like Anthony Kim and Rory McIlroy.

Someone has made recent decision to plow the ground in preparation for a PGA Tour without Tiger, or featuring a much diminished role for the former Boy Wonder for a while.

It's just bidness, after all. There are numbers to make, and bills to pay. Everyone became accustomed to Tiger showing up, being himself, and everybody carting off their own wheelbarrow of money. It worked so well for ten years, who wouldn't get fat and happy?

So, let's parade the kids who can barely shave, use handheld cameras at funny angles, no shot longer than three seconds, edit that 'grainy-film' look in back at the editing suite. Let's present them as the bright boys they are, not as legends in their own time.

Let's hope this works.

OS has mixed feelings about Mr. Woods, who has a long dark trip through the tunnel of life still ahead. Tiger showed us all what is possible, if we're willing to work hard enough. He also shows how things can go totally pear-shaped if we don't pay attention to details of life. In any case, after all the money he made for everyone around him, it seems a bit churlish to throw him completely under the bus. It can't be like the folks around him didn't approximately know what was going on in his off-hours.

As someone who has failed dramatically a time or two, and felt those wheels roll over him, OS appreciates grace--a lot.

And in honor of an athlete in the same trade who is retiring at the top of her game, with grace, class and good feelings all around, here is the transcript of Lorena Ochoa's retirement announcement.

I'm making this decision because all the elements are together. You know, to start, I always said that I wanted to play for some years, around ten years. And what I wanted to do is achieve my goals and to be the No. 1 player in the world. Retiring today or being at the top, you know, today is my anniversary for three years of being at the top in the Rolex World Rankings.

The second thing I always dreamed and I always wanted to finish here in Mexico. To be able to play my last tournament in front of my crowd, and in the moment of seeing them every day, and together to watch me playing my last tournament over here.

And third, well, finally, I just I'm ready to start a new life. You know, I just want to be a normal person. I just want to live like everyday things and be home, and be back with my family all the time that we lost in the last few years.

I'm ready to move on. You know, once you achieve your goals and you are at the top, it was good to me. But there are so many other things that I'd like to do. I'm really happy today, and I'm pleased. I'm 100% complete. It’s great news and I'm super happy.

I'm thanking everyone for their support and all the fans and for the LPGA, and people that have been watching my golf and following my career.

For Miss Ochoa, the really good stuff is just beginning, 'cuz she kept her head on straight all along the way.

Three cheers for this lovely young woman, who deserves to be role model.

Ballantine Championship: European Tour PGA In South Korea

OS is a golf geek. It's one of those things, and he knows there are therapists out there who can help with this sort of stuff. He just enjoys this vice too much for the moment.

It's Saturday morning in Tennessee, and European Tour Golf is broadcasting from South Korea, actually an island off the southern coast of South Korea. Household names like Gareth Maybin, Ted Oh, Marcus Fraser, and Soren Hanson are near the top of the leaderboard.  The course is beautiful, striking flora and terrain, and these guys really play well, even if there aren't thousands of screaming fans. Not one fist-pumper among them... 

Here on the third cup of coffee, it strikes OS that we live in a remarkable world, that allows that live broadcast from South Korea. Considering events of sixty years ago or so, it's remarkable there is a South Korea to broadcast from, much less one that has developed the kind of wealth and order that would allow the event to take place. Golf clubs don't come cheap, and they certainly aren't life-and-death essentials to any nation's economy. But they are built in places that are orderly, where wealth and literacy have developed. 

Let's consider where the golf courses aren't, beginning with North Korea, which managed to stage a war sixty years ago that killed several millions, spread misery all over East Asia, and accomplished nothing. They still can't feed themselves, but are working feverishly to develop nuclear weapons with which to blackmail the world. No time for golf, or music, or much of anything else.

Somalia--nope. Chad--nope. Iran--definitely no. Don't expect to see the 'Tehran Open' in this lifetime, do we? But, then again, in 1950, who could have imagined this middle-aged guy drinking his third cup of coffee in Tennessee, watching the tournament live from South Korea, writing about it on a laptop, chatting with his wife on a mobile phone as she drives home from her business trip?

Lots of moving parts there...but made possible in great part by brave people like Harry Truman who decided that the West should make a stand against the Marxist plague in Korea, and all the brave people from all parts of the world who sacrificed so much in that cause. And by people who live their lives believing that making money by making things that make life better is a worthy pursuit. You know...capitalists. And that things like a free press and rule of law with the consent of the governed is the best way to live. You know...Western constitutional principles, which have thrived best in places like the US, Great Britain, Canada, Australia, New Zealand. (Funny, that's where a lot of golf courses are located. How did that happen?)

See the connection yet? This generation's totalitarian plague is Islam, actually a repeat performance from previous centuries, but that's another discussion. We can't make it go away entirely, just like Marxism (after all, Harvard, Oxford and Berkley will always be with us...), but we can maintain the will to say: 'No. You don't get to take over. You can't even feed yourselves, and all you produce is murder and mayhem. You are the ones with the intrinsic problem, even if we have flaws. We're not going to apologize for being right, and we don't care if you get your feelings hurt.'

If we stand fast, here at home, and in other places where we have to, who knows? OS's grandson might watch Mickelson's grandson tee off in Tehran...

Here's hoping.

Sunday Afternoon At Augusta: Reason To Cheer

It OS's ritual, and his bride indulges him, and sometimes even watches with him. She really loves him, to endure an afternoon of TV golf.

There are no cheers in sport like the cheers at Augusta; lusty, happy, enthusiastic roars ring across the course on Sunday afternoon. Some of the best television in television is CBS's coverage of Sunday afternoon in Augusta. Jim Nantz can tell the tale, and Nick Faldo knows how to explain the game from the point of view of someone who has won the event three times. The producer and director know how to create a narrative out of the slow progress of the pairs of golfers, doing things that look arcane to those who don't follow this strange sport.

Phil gets the Green Jacket this year, thankfully. A Good Guy wins, instead of the Bad Boy. He began and ended his round with 3-wood tee shots, emblematic of a hard-earned humility. His wife, battling cancer, and family were assembled to greet him, regardless of the score. It was a win, no matter what the scorecard read.

But there were a number of others who walked off 18 smiling ear to ear. Anthony Kim played the round of his young life, and beamed. Tom Watson exuded class, and greeted the cheers with his warm, wry smile. Freddie Couples, in his slippers without socks, came so close to winning, but never forgot to enjoy every moment. Lee Westwood did his country proud, hopefully will be on his best game for The Open. Sixteen-year-old Matteo Manassero, the young player to ever make the cut, won low amateur, and was sweet and gracious in his victory.

Tiger scowled, berated himself in public for not winning, didn't bother to thank the fans who cheered him on, or the tournament organizers who could have understandably let him know he was unwelcome this year. He cryptically noted he didn't know when he would play the next tournament. Even had he won by five strokes, the joyless visage would have been the same, because he hadn't won by seven.

He just doesn't Get It.

Ten Reasons For Optimism In The United States

It's been an ugly, pretty discouraging month in some ways.

OS pleads guilty: He got caught up in it this week, the political
rope-a-dope, beating his fists endlessly into the pillow of the politicians' cynicism, ending up frustrated and exhausted, just as planned. The moment of insight came today on the golf course--when the mind was clear, humming a tune, enjoying the sunshine, the ball seemed to launch itself off the club. Greenside bunker? No problem! Putts rolled like they had eyes. Freddie Couples would be envious of some of those shots.

Then, distraction arrived, and thoughts of the world off the course interposed. The drive was a nasty pull hook into the ravine: No need to even search, it was gone.

The rest of the hole was seriously ugly...

Damn! Those guys need to give it a rest. Didn't pay green fees for them, by golly!

So, to chase the ghosts away, ten great things about living here that the politicians, bankers and other sociopaths can't do much about.

1. We're not Mexico, yet.

2. Baseball season is in spring training, and the season begins in April. Since the 1860's, in good times and bad, baseball has always been played, from the local sandlot to the majors. Not even crooks like Pete Rose and Mark McGwire have been able to destroy it.

3. It's a big, big country, with large parts of it still pretty much in the same condition as when the European settlers first arrived. Geography conspires on the side of freedom and prosperity. You can fit the entire UK into Illinois.

4. Churches, of all stripes and flavors, still dot the landscape throughout most of the country. People there, for all their failings and quirks, talk to one another and look out for each other and the people around them. Most churches are small and Protestant of some flavor, and the idea of freedom is larded throughout their theology.

5. Golf. Lots of it here, from humble county courses to places like Torrey Pines. It provides a quiet haven where people can think and talk. It runs on rules that assume honorable behavior from everyone.

6. Americans, for the most part, in most places, are outgoing and friendly. Wherever you go, you can make a friend if you give someone the opportunity.

7. This country, in addition to being huge, is breathtakingly beautiful, coast to coast. Not even the politicians can take away the sunrises and sunsets over the beaches that line the coasts, or the turning colors of the hardwood trees in the fall. That's God's bidness.

8. Americans know how to cook! Great food grows in abundance here, and great cuisine emerges from all parts of the country.

9. Jack Daniels. Same as it ever was.

10. America is generous. When calamity strikes somewhere else, checkbooks are pulled out, and volunteers saddle up. We git-'er-done like nobody else. And then we go home.

OK, that's better.

Back to that spring training game...

Lee Westwood Wins Dubai--One For The Good Guys

Westwood wins by six, posting a course record 64 on his final round. 

McIlroy ends in third after beginning the final round with the lead.

Both deserve applause for inspiring, classy performances, in the best tradition of sport.

Another reason I love golf, and the European tour especially:  This week also saw a presentation to Peter Vardon, Harry Vardon's 83-year old son, in gratitude for his father's life and accomplishments. 

If you've ever gripped a club with any kind of overlapping grip, you continue a tradition begun by Harry Vardon.  And that was just one of his contributions to the world.

But back to Lee and Rory--I can't wait for Augusta! I think we're in for a show, maybe along the lines of Arnold and Jack.

Good Golf This Weekend from Dubai

We could take some time off from watching football and basketball this weekend.

It really won't hurt us. Besides, the tour golfers can read, write, speak standard English. They even manage to stay out of jail.

Who deserves more of our time and attention?

I've been working away, keeping half an eye on Golf Channel's broadcast of the European Tour event from Dubai.

Rory McIlroy and Lee Westwood were paired up, and they had one of those great rounds where they fed off one another, sort of like NASCAR drivers drafting one another around the track at Daytona. They spent the day splitting the fairways, and pouring in the putts. It was as good a round of golf as I've seen in years.

McIlroy, at age 20, is just sensational, and with those boyish good looks and charm, will soon become a star.

Westwood scrambled out of deep trouble a couple of times, sort of England's answer to Phil Mickleson without the space-cadet dimension...

Westwood ended the day at -6, McIlroy at -4.

Here's hoping they keep it up. We all could use some inspiration.

Walking Around With Colin Montgomerie

OldSouth is a real golf geek. Golf Channel's Playing Lessons from the Pros is a favorite show. Most of the pro golfers followed by the camera are eloquent and outgoing, eager to explain how they do what they do.

This episode with Colin is one of the very best.

No trash talk.

No sub-English Ebonic dialects.

Not too many cliches, and never a string of 'you-know's.

Unlucky in love, but his twenty-year old girlfriend hasn't murdered him. He hasn't been arrested for beating up his wife or girlfriend. No drug arrest, DUI's, off-the-field mayhem. Polite, cheerful, confident.

Watching Colin Montgomerie talking about how he sizes up a hole, and calmly eliminates the risk on the journey from tee to green is a real joy. After five holes, he's three under, and not even playing brilliantly. His constant question is: 'What presents the least risk here? How do I take out the variables?'

He mentions that he won the 'Greens in Regulation' stat six out of seven years. He's standing in the middle of the fairway, and says: It's no mystery. It's easy to do that from here, as opposed to there(pointing to the rough).

Never defeated in Ryder Cup singles matches, 1991-2006.

Mom and Dad, if you're looking for a sports hero for Junior, OldSouth nominates Colin.

David and Goliath

Congrats to Mr. Yang, winner of the PGA Championship just ended this afternoon, over Tiger Woods.

It marks the first time in fifteen occurrences that Tiger stepped onto the first tee with the lead on Sunday, and didn't win.

Mr. Yang remained patient, kept his courage, and in the process won the gallery over to his cause. He never allowed Tiger's presence to rattle him.

South Korea, and all of Asia, have a genuine hero.

We'll see him again in years to come, with a long exemption status on the PGA tour, invitations to the Masters and the Open, etc.

Here's to many more inspiring afternoons with Mr. Yang.

Things I'm Thankful For Today

Too, too many to list, but before I return to my deadline, a couple of items from this weekend:

A happy, happy, happy marriage. My Bride is just amazing, and I marvel that she tolerates me, much less loves me like she does.

Our son's 18th birthday yesterday--I could go on endlessly about The Boy, but he would object, which is one of the reasons I admire him so.

Our daughter's 25th birthday last week--see above for why I don't go endlessly about her either. She's on the road, celebrating at a friend's wedding.

The two kids are so different in temperament and interests, and each one already has made a huge positive impact on their worlds.

Yesterday, we celebrated with a cheap Chinese lunch, and The Boy and My Bride and I enjoyed Julie & Julia yesterday afternoon. It was delightful, moving, inspiring--and I am very hard to please. Usually, when I go to a movie, I'm bored to tears and sleep through it. I savored every frame of this one.

I do work I love.

Golf.

Four affectionate dogs, and four cats. 'Nuff said there.

And, to leave you with a thought, here is the epitaph the real Julie wrote about the real Julia five years ago. Grab a Kleenex before you click.

Back to work--deadline looms.

What If It All Goes Right?

Driving to the golf course, doing my usual 'surf the radio dial' game. The cultural light-years span between the Urban Rap station and the Southern Gospel station bends the brain a bit...

So I switch over to one of the many country stations here, and pulling into the parking lot, I hear:

'What If It All Goes Right?'

(The link leads to a MySpace page, scroll down a bit, and the song is first on the list. I'm new to this stuff, too.)

It's a compelling question!

What if you chase your dream,
And it changes your whole life?

I've seen it happen, more than once. I live in a house full of people who work their tails off, and have seen them rewarded for their efforts. The stories are too long to detail, too painful at points, too unlikely-sounding at their happy endings.

I sat in the parking lot, and could not leave the car until I heard the whole song.

Haven't done that for years...

It was a shot in the arm, as I headed off to my hours on the practice tee.

It hummed in my head as I tried to create that little pile of balls 150 yards out.

On to the day's agenda...little tune humming in my head...