To my new readers:
CJSM is an acronym for Cookie Jar Sweet Memories!
Our children gave us a cookie jar filled with 365 notes
reminiscing events in our lives for the past 50 years; it
was for our fiftieth wedding anniversary and we open one
each day. I write a story about the event and will publish
the entire compilation in 4 books, one each quarter.
Welcome to my daily blog posts;
please check out my book offerings:
visit: Amazon books; search: Carl Schuler
Enjoy! Let me hear from you:
Day 61
The night Monte
swung his
driver so hard
the head popped off
Not
much amazes me or catches me off-guard---not much at all, but…sometimes.
Once,
this one actually left me speechless; “that” my friend is one unique experience!
Daughter
Becky had a friend in Oregon and they trekked down to the Blue River in the
state to go “bunge” jumping! Wow! Supposedly, there is still gold to be panned
there, also.
When
little Rachel came home from her “trip”, she had a secret surprise for good ole
dad: Seems she got her bellybutton pieced at the behest and instigation of ole
Forrest! Thanks, Buddy!
They
still laugh at me saying it was the only time I was absolutely speechless when
I found out; I honestly don’t remember it that way, but, C’est la vie! (If it makes ’em happy? Okay!)
Hell!
I went right out And got myself a bellybutton piercing (not really, but it
makes a good story); trouble is, my belly grew over it and I can’t find the
damn thing! Ha! Ha!
The
only other time I was caught unaware was one day when the family trekked to the
driving range to hit a few golf balls. Now, I am not any great shakes when it comes to golf; I am a consummate
“hacker” but, occasionally, I hit a “long” drive (Two or three in my
lifetime!).
Well!
Ole Monte, six foot five and two fifty decided to show up the “old man” so he
started rocketing his drives out to two hundred and fifty yards-plus; he didn’t
say a word, but, I took notice. So, I unlimbered a few shots and passed his
“puny” effort. Then, he swung even harder and was beating my drives.
Well!
Now, I couldn’t allow such “disrespect’ so I dug deeper and reached on out to
the “next count”, so to speak, laying one out to two hundred and seventy-five
yards at which point I simply stopped, leaned against my driver in a nonchalant
manner staring at my nemesis with a “gotcha”-smile on my face and a satisfying
gleam in my eyes. Ole Mont got it and wasn’t happy.
He
avoided eye-contact with me on the driving pad right next to him. As he teed up
a ball and stretched his long arms while staring downrange willing to hit the
ball all the way to Texas! He flexed his muscles and took a deep breath,
obvious “revenge” and “success” on his mind.
As
Monte took the war club back, in a mighty arc, he paused very slightly at the
apex and uncoiled his massive body as the driver’s huge head started its
downward acceleration. Uh! Oh! I thought as the blaze of the flashing club
descended toward the waiting ball.
“Ting! I heard as the
streaking club head contacted the pathetic golf ball; I closed my eyes.
The
ball flew out some hundred yards as I watched; something else flew past the
ball!
“What
was that?” I queried as it struck me
that something was truly amiss. Looking at Monte, I saw him standing five feet
from me with an astonished, confused look on his face holding a silver steel
shaft in his hands---absent…the driver club head!
I
said, “Oh! My God! He sung so hard that the head of the club flew off of the
shaft!”
We
called the “match” at that point; I had never witnessed such “power”!
Later,
I learned that Monte’s brother-in-law had borrowed his clubs and had bent the
driver shaft and then hand-straightened it without telling the owner about the
damage.
When
Monte took that aggressive swing, the weakened shaft let go and the head flew
off!
The
event was a humorous tale after that day---at least…for some of us.
Ah! Cookie Jar “Angry!” Sweet Memories!
No comments:
Post a Comment