The Human High-Light Reel

I know there are a number of you that are not fans of sports. But I am and I can't help writing about one of my absolute favorite golf stars - Tiger Woods - the number one professional golfer in the world.

He's arguably the greatest golfer that has ever lived and he's only 31, I think. He has years to go to add to his records.

Today at the final hole of the U.S. Open golf tournament, he barely sunk a 12 foot putt to force a playoff for the championship tomorrow.

Rocco Mediate had finished just ahead of Tiger and was watching on a television set. He simply turned around and said "Unbelievable. But I knew he'd make it."

SWMBO and I were watching and she said afterward "I didn't think he'd make it."

I said, "You just can't ever bet against Tiger in a crucial moment."

The field might have been hopeful that someone could beat Tiger this time because he was obviously still recovering from a third surgery on his left knee. He grimaced at times and limped at times.

And he didn't play very well.

But he's still Tiger.

Tomorrow, he and Mediate will go head to head in an 18 hole playoff.

Don't bet against Tiger.

Update:

It took 18 holes of a playoff and one hole of sudden death but once again Tiger proved he is the best. He won the U.S. Open (again). His 14th major golf tournament win is 4 behind the record established by Jack Nicklaus. Nicklaus won his 18th at the age of 46. Tiger is 32. (Correction from the 31 listed yesterday)

Update: VICTORY!

You may have read of my battle with the New York Times.

After 5 weeks and one day I can report that I have finally won.

Last Friday (after two more somewhat snotty e-mails to the publisher and the president of the company) I received a call from a deeply apologetic Manager of Customer Care. She told me she was going to take care of this. Today, I got a full refund of the overcharges to my account.

She said it was a system failure.

I say when all else fails it helps to complain to the top guys.

(By the way, that's Sir Winston Churchill flashing the V for Victory sign. He was my 15th cousin.)

Wasting Money

I've been anxiously awaiting my stimulus package check from the federal government. An acquaintance of mine got his several weeks ago and it seemed to me like the boys in Washington were taking a long time getting mine to me. When I went to the mailbox today, there was an envelope from the Internal Revenue Service with the words Stimulus Package on it. When I came in to the house, I told SWMBO "Hey I finally got my check from the feds."

But when I opened the envelope, there was no check inside. Instead, a bunch of fine sounding language about the fact that I would get a check, probably in three days or so. I started to rant. Why couldn't they just send the check? Why did they have to send me a letter explaining that I would soon be getting a check? Wasn't that going to cost them twice as much in postage? It's not just to me, it's to everyone? That seems like a lot of wasted money to me.

SWMBO calmly said "But it's our money they're wasting, not theirs!"

Yup, I hadn't thought of that.

Fishin'

A friend and I were talking today . . . first about hunting, then about fishing.

I can only think of twice when I was really hunting with a gun in my hand. The first experience, with my Dad, was a good one as I brought down three or four Prairie Chickens, each with a single shot.

The second time I was alone, looking for pheasants. The only one I saw exploded into flight virtually from under my feet. I didn't come close to hitting it. I don't know what I would have done with it if I had killed it anyway.

But fishing. Now I liked fishing. At least when I caught something. I hated trolling. That's riding in a slow-moving boat with your hook in the water. Usually, I brought up weeds.

One day, at a lake in Canada, after trolling most of the day and not having caught anything, we came back to the dock at dusk. Dad headed up to the cabin to find something to cook for dinner. I said I was going to do some casting off the dock. Aha! Dusk apparently was feeding time and I almost immediately caught a fine Northern Pike, or a Jack as we called them.

Putting the fish on a stringer, I ran up the hill to the cabin to show Dad my prize. As he began cleaning it, I ran back down to the lake and promptly caught another.

By the time I brought a third fish up the hill, Dad said "Okay, that's enough." But it was a great triumphant day for me.

While telling my pal that story I was reminded of a couple of pictures that were taken back in the 1940's. So from at least 60 years ago, here's how it used to be at Carlyle Lake, in Saskatchewan.

That's my Dad on the far right. He's with three of his pals after a good day of fishing.

And here's Dad with a big fish, probably a Wall-eyed Pike, which we called Walleyes. As you can see by Dad's smile, that was a triumphant day for him.

Progress . . . or not

My last post on this blog brought out a plethora of what most of Arizona calls "tree huggers." Up around here, they're also known as "no growthers." They are people who have moved here from somewhere else or who have grown up here. When I first moved to Phoenix several decades ago from "back East", the expression was "O.K. I made it to Paradise, now let's slam the door."

But, you know, you just can't stop growth. Folks like me call it progress. The other folks call it urban blight. If you have a place that regularly makes it onto some list or the other as being a great place to retire then what do you suppose happens? People move here from somewhere else. And there is growth. And the people that come want all the amenities they left behind. But they don't want that damned "urban blight."

So, what's the solution. Mine (I should really say SWMBO's and the BRD's because they've done the lion's share of the work) is to build our own oasis. You can have all those stores and restaurants and bars and car dealers and fast food joints and still have . . . your very own oasis of calm and beauty.

For example . . . these pictures were taken on our front patio, only steps from our front door.

And you can lean back in a comfortable chair, with a drink in your hand and look at the sky. It is boundless.

So remember, folks, every cloud . . .

has a silver lining.

If that's not enough, just remember . . . we've got our eyes on you.

PV is growing!

My town is growing. Up on the side of Glassford Hill, near the Kia dealership, the new Comfort Suites hotel is pretty much all framed up.

Just down the road, on the north side of Highway 69, is the beginning of the huge Crossroads Mall - a very large Home Depot store under construction.

On the south side of the highway is another of the "big box" stores - Sam's Club. It and it's gasoline station are going up very speedily. Only a couple of weeks ago, this was flat ground. Now the steel is rising to the sky.

And closer to the highway, a new Cracker Barrel restaurant is a-growing.

The Crossroads Mall will be the largest in central Arizona once it is completed.

Oh and I forgot to get a picture of the new Hampton Inn, in the Entertainment District a short distance away. It's even closer to completion.

By this fall, Prescott Valley will look considerably different.

Bo goes

Sadly, Bo Diddley died today.

Sing a song.