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The Goddess Speaks
Mona Wood
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'Golf fever' could prove contagious
I HAVE NEVER had the slightest interest in golf. I know who Tiger Woods and Michelle Wie are, and therein lies my entire knowledge on the subject. I notice the cute outfits Michelle is wearing more than her ranking, and admire her poise and maturity much more than her golf swing.
But I seem to be surrounded by people with "golf fever" these days, and it's something I honestly could never understand. Now, even my boyfriend, Max, is trying to get me to golf. He said he'll pay for lessons, buy me clubs and even got all sappy and tried coaxing me by saying this is something we'll be able to share and do together even into our senior years.
He promises I'll grow to love it because of my competitive spirit. Boy, he is really working this one!
We were at dinner recently with a couple of his old friends and their wives. Both women are now avid golfers, after "getting their arms twisted" by their husbands. It seems we have been replaying this scene at many of our recent dinners with friends, which has me suspecting they are all in cahoots.
An ex-boyfriend also tried to get me interested in the sport because he was so addicted. He broke dates with me if anyone called with an opening in their foursome. He swung at invisible golf balls all the time, holding an invisible club in his hands ... and I swear he could see a ball flying toward the green to its planned destination because he was looking mighty content with his virtual performances.
I was already a "golf widow," and we weren't anywhere near getting married. That certainly didn't endear me any more to the game -- or to the relationship.
Bub-bye.
WHAT is this power that golf seems to hold over its victims? And how can any hobby that takes four to five hours a pop and costs major bucks be sustained by anyone other than the six-figure-and-above set?
I like tennis, canoe paddling, bicycling, hiking ... free to low-cost activities -- ACTIVE activities where you actually move around instead of chasing a little ball around in a cart.
Uh-oh ... I can see the hate mail now from golf addicts everywhere. But before slamming this newspaper with one of your clubs, let's wait awhile.
Max doesn't care for some of the things I like to do -- tennis, shopping, chick flicks, etc. -- but he endures them all because I like them. So ... I guess I'm signing up for golf lessons soon.
Only time will tell if I will be eating my words and swinging at invisible golf balls with that glazed look in my eye. But if I am, I know I will be dressed very cute, just like Michelle.
Mona K. Wood is president of Ikaika Communications.
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