Par for the
by Eric Miller
bit rustic, my father-in-law said," frowning
as he looked out over the golf course to which I
had brought him.
you'd like it," I said with a smile.
rustic mean I like it?," he wondered aloud,
before screaming "Watch where you're going;
you almost killed us," as the golf cart
jerked forward, crashing into a boulder.
worry, Dad. The only place you have to worry
about getting killed is on your scorecard. I own
now, and how much money is that ownership worth?"
think we should bet twenty dollars a hole, if you're
willing to give me three strokes on each one."
as on a par three?"
Dad, just give me two strokes on a par three,"
I said magnanimously.
thats more like it. You're on!"
Dad, you tee off first."
here; right where we're standing."
nothing here. I don't see any markings."
because it's rustic, Dad, remember?"
see it," he complained.
it's just a little hole in the ground. How
do you expect to see it from here?"
there a pin and a flag?"
then it wouldn't be so rustic, would it?"
He swung a
fairway iron. On the downswing, he hit an unseen
rock just below the surface, which caused him to
drop his club.
taking a Mulligan," he proclaimed.
agree to Mulligans?"
taking one; get over it," he growled. "Your
shot," he said, after he hooked his Mulligan.
"That's one," I heard him say, as I
swung and missed. "Two, three, four,"
he said, matter-of-factly, as I swung and missed
quickly abandoned his clubs and began to kick the
ball toward the unmarked holes. It was hard to
tell which was the cup, and which was just a
depression formed by a cow hoof. At the end of
nine holes, he looked at me in disgust.
not a golf course. Get me out of here!"
let's settle up on the scoring."
you lose. It's as simple as that," he stated.
forget all the strokes you gave me,"
I reminded him gently.
let's see. Well, even with that, you still lose."
your score?," I asked.
than yours," he growled.
better, that's all that matters."
forget that my handicap is double infinity?"
count," because I gave you all those strokes."
you gave me an infinite number of strokes, it
wouldn't equal my double infinity handicap. Give
me twenty dollars, and we'll call it even."
owe me twenty dollars for each of nine holes. You
owe me $180.00."
like to yield to your infinite wisdom, but I
humbly, infinitely, doubly, and indubitably
disagree with your scorecard calculation."
just par for the course for you," my father-in-law