I have been wandering, exploring the various planes of existence, both high and low. I am adrift in three-dimensional space, searching for a (swing) path that will ultimately lead me home.
It is lonely and desolate out here in space. Carding 18-hole scores is something from a past life. Now, I am an apparition drifting from abstract theory to abstract theory, no golf course to call home.
Recently I got a text from the real world. It was my friend Arnold asking me to play some pre-holiday golf. I said no at first, because I am in the middle of trying to change my perception of the golf swing and probably would represent a hazard to others on a golf course. But he begged and pleaded, so I caved.
