…have you ever had a colonoscopy? I’m facing that Monday morning, with a lovely day of prepping on Sunday during the football playoffs.
I’m not frightened by the procedure, but it is a rather odd thing to do voluntarily. Especially at my age, being over 60. At least I’m hoping maybe the doc will find that penny I swallowed as a kid.
I’m getting everything checked out. Had a double-hernia operation last May. Feel much better for it. Had a stress test, they saw something, had a nuclear stress test, found nothing and thought the first result was just a false positive or something. Just tell me I’m not going to drop dead anytime soon, and I’m good.
I started drinking red wine, only to hear that one of the researchers behind the big red-wine-is-good-for-you study lied. Yeah, he falsified his results. So I’m back to just being an alcoholic again.
I can’t get my cholesterol down no matter what I eat or do. So I’m swallowing Lipitors everyday. Man, I hate take something like that all the time. Doc says it is working. I’m supposed to take fish oil and CoQ10 too.
What happened to me? What happened to pepperoni pizza dipped in beer–in the morning?
All but the oldest women now treat me with deflection. Strained smiles backing up behind their face, feet chugging backward, always tugging on their blouse to cover the cleavage they freely flaunt to everyone else. Not that I’m looking. Or staring.
Yes, if you’re wondering, the older women flirt with me. The trouble is that men are boys forever and women just get old. So sorry if I offended anyone with that obvious truth. Not that I’d rather hang around with 62-year-old men who give each other wedgies.
Know what I want? Someone I can laugh with, be close to, enjoy things together, be a friend, flirt a little for the hell of it, and surprise me once in a while with something outlandish or shocking or kind.
No matter what my colonoscopy results, I don’t think the rest of my life will get any better.
Thank god for golf. You can beat it, kick it, abuse it, ignore it, or lavish it with love. It never complains, it never gives back. You have to earn it. Then, the next day, you have to earn it again. Is there anything better to look forward to every day than rekindling a love for golf? Okay, apart from that?
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Tiger Takes Appearance Fees
by Tim Schoch on 24 January 2012
So do I. It’s called a salary.
Luckily, I don’t get scored every day on the quality or quantity of my work, then the following Monday receive a check based on that output. No, each day I go to work, I know exactly what pay I will be receiving and when I will receive it.
Why shouldn’t Tiger or any other golfer be afforded the same security?
Heck, I wish I received a different offer every week. ”Tim, this is The New Yorker, yes, The NewYorker. We’d love to have you show up in our offices and scribble a few stories for our readers, perhaps a few cartoon captions. Our monetary compensation would make working at your current job impossible this week.”
Naturally, my current employer would not be pleased. And I would find out pretty quickly whether I was as valuable and indispensable as Tiger Woods is to golf venues. My guess is that if I tried to return to my employer after my stint with The New Yorker, I’d find in my former chair Bob from AccounTemps.
Golf is a pro golfer’s business. Sure, American professional golf is imbued with a rich and dramatic history and epic tournaments whose memories last a lifetime. But are those any reasons to turn your back on $2 million dollars just to show up in Abu Dhabi for four days?
I mean, is Tiger a sell-out or a good businessman with a powerful brand to sell? Does his loyalty rest with the American fans who want him to entertain them this weekend or with his responsibilities to his lifestyle, his kids, the charities he supports, and his perfect teeth?
I think I can speak for everyone when I say it would really help us accept Tiger back if he’d truly do something unselfish for us, just once. Like forego the cash to make a free appearance for those who once loved him here. Could help. Then again, maybe he’d think he was patronizing us. Then he’d think, “Dayum, I passed up two mil for these cynical jerks?”
Does all this bother anyone, I mean truly?
Sure, I would love to see Tiger play more, as if he truly loved playing the game. I love seeing all the young, engaged, eager youngsters out there fighting for their careers and having the times of their lives. Wish Tiger would do more of that.
Maybe life and golf isn’t fun for him anymore. Maybe it is all work, all business, all cash and carry.
But the bottom line is that golf fans are still thrilled to the core when Tiger shows up. And if you ever want to know where Tiger is going, just follow the money.
Not that that’s a bad thing.
Or a good thing.
It’s just business.
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