Ty: I like you, Betty.
Danny: It’s Danny, sir.
Ty: Danny. Danny, I’m going to give you a little advice. There’s a force in the universe that makes things happen; all you have to do is get in touch with it. Stop thinking...let things happen...and be...the ball. – Caddyshack, 1980
I have never had a bucket list. I guess there is something about planning that far ahead that goes against my nature. If, however, I was one of those Franklin/Covey types, here are the top 10 things I’d like to do before I actually kick that old bucket.
1. Make a hole in one. Is this too much to ask? Heck, I started playing golf when I was about 10, with my best friend Randy Morley, and I’m still zero for about a thousand. Randy and I used to wonder, well into our 30s, who would get one first. Well, it wasn’t me. I think Randy has even had one or two more since he got that first one, on the wrong hole at the North Hills Four-Ball back in the ’90s. It was the wrong hole because it was the only par three that didn’t have a major award for an ace that day. He should have at least gotten a set of steak knives.
2. Play golf at The Old Course in Scotland. Aye laddie, I’m talking about St. Andrews, the home of golf, where the ghosts of Old and Young Tom sip single malt while roaming through the heather. I probably have a better shot at this than the ace.
3. Play Pebble Beach. See a trend here? It’s pretty sad for someone who keeps threatening to give up the sacred game. Just when I thought I was out... they pull me back in.
4. Drive the Autobahn through the Alps. Actually, this one just popped into my head. Maybe I should save it for last so I’ll be sure and get through these others.
5. Buy a Ferrari. Well, you don’t expect me to make that drive in a 1997 DeVille do you?
6. Write a best seller. How else can I buy that car?
7. Receive total consciousness. Just because at least I’d have that going for me.
8. Watch the Hogs win the BCS National Championship Game from the 50-yard line. This just keeps getting better. And preferably either against Texas or Southern Cal.
9. Live out my last years with Kathy on the beach. As long as I’m fantasizing, why not? And not just any beaches, it needs to be those beaches of South Walton.
10. Attend the Sunday matches of a Ryder Cup. Eureka! At last one that will really happen, this Sept. 30 at Medinah Country Club, just outside of Chicago. I’m looking forward to giving a full report when I return. Anyone have a big flag I can run around with? USA! USA!
•••
As usual, the “Gold” for the week comes from my buddy Fred in Fayetteville. I called him up Monday afternoon, and after he told me it was probably time to stop referring to Joe Paterno as “JoePa,” he offered this;
“I think I’ve found a foolproof method for meeting women.”
“Go on,” I said.
“I can’t tell you!”
“I’ve been married to and in love with the same girl for 32 years,” I told him. “Meeting women isn’t on my radar.”
“OK, but you can’t tell anyone.”
“It’s in the vault.”
“I was in the grocery store the other day,” Fred said, “wearing my Harvard tee shirt, and two attractive women, one in the cereal aisle and one in the check-out line, asked me if I went to Harvard.”
“And your answer was?”
“I told them no, but I did teach English Literature there from 1974 to 1979.”
“And they bought it?”
“Seemed to.”
“You never cease to amaze me, bud.”
“Well, I do what I can. Talk to you later.”