As the Apostle Paul said, I’m the chief of sinners when it comes to not stopping to smell the roses. My default route is work. I only take vacations when I get so far behind on work that I need everyone to stop asking things of me for a week so that I can get caught up. With Silicon Valley being the dog-eat-dog place that it is, it can get to be pretty stressful if you don’t take breaks where you just cut it all off ... disengage ... disappear. I have my way of doing that, but in very small increments ... read on.
Like Monty Python used to say, “and now for something completely different.”
If you’ve ever watched the movie Tin Cup, you’ve heard the line, “But then there's the 7 iron. I never miss with the 7 iron.” While I can’t claim to never miss, though I will say that I’m fairly handy with a 7 iron. Here’s the Devinator smacking a 7-iron at the range. My daughter Abbey is filming from her iPhone 4S.
The Best Wedge Player in the World
Any golfer who has played the game as long as I have (34 years and counting) can quickly tell you the best part of their game. You hear many folks these days spoofing the Dos Equis commercial about “the most interesting man in the world”, and I too have my spin on it. I’m the best wedge player in the world ... or so I tell myself. There’s an exception: bunkers. Oy ... I hate bunkers. General rule: If I’m on anything not made of sand or concrete and within 100 yards of the green, there’s a 1 in 10 chance of holing the shot. If I miss holing the wedge shot, there’s a 25% chance of a 3-putt, regardless of the length of putt. That’s why I don’t play competitive golf any more. How does one get this good at wedge play? Answer: repetition. They say a picture is worth 1,000 words, so with these two photos, this could be the longest blog I’ve ever written.
Pitching to buckets. Pitching at trees. Pitching over the house. Chipping around practice greens. 80-120 yard shots at the driving range. I burn through wedges like Bandit burned through tires. ... and I’m picky about my wedges, as you might imagine. Dr. Ian Malcolm said in Jurassic Park, “I'm always on the lookout for the future ex-Mrs. Malcolm.” I’m kind of that way with wedges. If I got to practice more, I wouldn’t be able to afford my wedge habit.
My Happy Place
Everybody needs a happy place. Everyone. I have mine. Don’t laugh. If you follow me on Twitter, you already know about my happy place. I go to the driving range, flip Pandora (Internet radio) to the Hall & Oates channel (I love that genre of music), and proceed through the Earthly equivalent to the Pearly Gates. Due to ridiculous work hours, this typically only happens one or two evenings every month at best, but when it does, it’s like taking that first bite of a perfect Filet Mignon. Hitting that crisp Miura CB-202 7-iron about 50 times to 160 yards while listening to She’s Gone, Out of Touch, and I Can’t Go For That... reminds me of the best parts of my childhood. It’s a complete escape for me ... no Wi-Fi, no pressure, no demands, just: whap! whap! whap! Ah yeah ... life’s good stuff.
What do you do when you’re not Wi-Fi’ing yourself into oblivion day and night like the rest of us?
What’s your happy place? Do you know? Will you share?