The Ripple Of Circumstances
Occasionally, me included, we need a good kick in the butt. Recently, I got mine. We can all be critical of others, laugh at their expense, and consider ourselves smarter, wiser, or what they were thinking in a silly moment. Quilty as charged! For some time, I have strived not to comment on or consider what people do or say that differs from my thinking. Not consistently successful, those demons sneak in occasionally. I strive for positivity in my life and avoid negative thoughts or actions, as they do not add to the quality of my existence. Well, I slipped!
In the winter months, I live in warmer regions away from my home in Canada. My place is on a golf course, just 60 feet from the 15th green. Each day, I can witness the struggles of men and women playing a simple game and making it as difficult as possible most days.
The Moment Begins
One day, while watching the chaos on the golf course, a man briefly left his golf cart unattended to hit his ball out of a sand trap. His attempt to escape the sandy prison didn’t go well, which I can relate to, as my attempts often fail. The green, marked with a flag, sloped upward from the tee area about 90 yards away. Like me, this man used a wheeled golf cart to transport his trusty golf clubs and his swords around the course. Unfortunately, he left the cart on a slope without applying the brakes. Before he realized it, the cart began moving slowly, shifted gears, built momentum, and rolled down the hill toward its target, a nearby pond. When he noticed, it was too late—the cart laughing, you fool, rolled right over the edge at first floating, then smirking… “I got you” … now sinking into the dark water. There was no fluttering flag like a sinking ship to mark its ultimate moment above the dark waters, and now heading into an unknown abyss, lost forever, those swords were no longer in the sight of humanity. I couldn’t help but laugh at him—how silly, careless, and foolish. I shared the golf story with others and found it amusing each time I recounted it. However, as weeks passed, the story felt stale. Then there is the word, Karma.
Recently, while playing golf on the 18th hole, my ball thought swimming would be a good idea. This golf course has lots of water to challenge your ball’s placement—part of the fun and challenge of it. Looking for my ball, hoping it was just on the long grass edge, hiding as it did not want to be hit again…it had had enough…I left my cart with some $2500 worth of gear close to the cart path and did not look at the slope, and no, I did not put the brake on. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bag moving slowly over the edge and, with a significant splash, going swimming. Calling out to no one in particular… oh no… oh no!
The bag and cart sank quickly, and it laughed at me… “I got you” … “I got you” … powering fast away from shore. Off came my shoes and socks, and I entered the blackish water, trying to reach my bag and cart before they were utterly gone to Neptune’s depths. Grabbing the handle with the bag now filled with what seemed to be two hundred pounds of black water of unknown quality. Struggling to push it up the steep embankment, as the water was hungry and did not want to release its grip on its prey. No thought of alligators, which are frequently found in this region on golf courses, was mine; just the previous week, a nine-footer near my boat requested a lift.
As the star, I found myself in a ridiculous, gong-show slow-motion moment that should feature flashing lights and blaring music. My golf video, a comedy of errors, would be jam-packed with bloopers, near misses, and plenty of laughs, showcasing shanks, FIST (Fu-k it’s still there) shots, A Fart (Always fu-king always really terrible) shots and water hazards galore. With some help, the bag and my clubs hauled free from the water’s grasp, left to scramble out and up the muddy bank alone, water still clinging to my clothes. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and the water and embarrassment were cold and chilly. I spoke and laughed too soon, as one day the pendulum swung, and mine was the same fate.
The Leprechauns Laugh
Before me, a vast horizon
Floating fields of green
A leprechaun’s playground
His pot of gold mine to lay claim
18 mere 4.25-inch holes
So far, so distant, each flag stands tall
The pebbled key, to unlock so small,
Undaunted, I bring my bag of tricks
To slay the leprechaun’s waiting dragons
18 monsters restless, guarding the gold
The fiery breath of sand
Still water and hills to bite deep
Behold its edges of long hairs
The Dragon’s teeth
Stand stout against my swing,
I have no shield
Only a bag of swords
Which one to choose
I try not to remember
That round in September
Where it all went wrong
Like a jester, a clown, I danced
To the winds of the Leprechauns’ song
A slice, a hook, that clunk, too fat, too thin
My trail of steps, way out of bounds,
So many penalties, my card of shame
So bad, on so many levels
Chasing that little white 1.68-inch devil
Around all the Leprechauns’ playground
When the dance music was done
The Leprechaun smiled and laughed
So proud of his fun
Having a pint at the 19th hole
Come all to drown your sorrows
All your tales are not true
As those poor attempts
Bogies and double bogies
Isn’t getting it done as
The Leprechaun smiles and laughs
