neurological dryer lint

after an hour and two buckets of balls, my father-in-law turned me into a golf PRO.

not really. however i feel a lot better about the whole thing - confident that i won't cause any major injuries to any spectators, anyway. he got me hitting pretty straight and far, showed me which clubs to use when, what correct form looks like, reminded me of about a hundred things that i need to remember before hitting the ball...

let me say this, and show that i don't have too much pride to admit when i've been wrong. mockery is far too light a word to describe my previous attitude towards the game. derision, also an understatement. you hit a ball with a stick! what's the big deal? tying my shoes involves more skill, right?

ha. you have to be a PIECE OF MACHINERY to correctly remember all of the variables - get them all right - which gives you about a 2% chance that you'll pull off even a halfway decent shot. good gravy. i have so much more respect for golfers now. everyone i've mocked in the past, my sincerest apologies. you are athletes. on the level with the curling team.

renee's dad is an awesome teacher, by the way. he explained everything in a really simple, effective way, never sounding impatient, and always encouraging me after every hit. he should open a school.

so i'm a little more excited about tomorrow now. i still won't have the stamina to make it through nine holes, much less 50-something, but i can screw around with it all day and not feel too out of place.