Having the same golf buddies for the past 30 years (see blog # 6 Golf buddies) makes a clear statement – I apparently don’t make new friends! But it does mean that we have a clear understanding of each other. We share our lives on the course and off-to the extent that we will help each other when needed and annoy each other at will. I know I can insult and harass both Ron and Ken whenever called for without fear of reciprocation. I do have to be careful of my boundaries though since I have the most notorious as well as humorous golf “incidents” that could be used against me and will most assuredly be used by them at my memorial service. The thought of being humiliated while not being able to defend myself will be the threat they will hold over me forever.

Recently Ron and I had been discussing our current medical situations. He related to me that as a precursor to his heart exam he needed an MRI. To wit I explained to him that I could save him time and effort since I already knew that he didn’t have a heart. And an MRI would be to no avail. Being the sincere smartass that he is he responded in kind to remind me that when I required a brain MRI last year he told me it was a waste since they would not find a brain. Touche. They did say in my MRI summary that “my orbs were unremarkable.” Why would they look at my orbs when checking my brain?

Together Ron and I realized that since I have no brain and he has no heart, we were two thirds away from the yellow brick road. All we needed was a cowardly lion and we could journey to see the wizard! We deduced that our other golf buddy Ken does have a heart and he does have a brain, but, since he needs his wife’s permission to use them, he qualifies. (Sorry Ken, literary license). We both knew that if Ken has an MRI they would find that he doesn’t have a clue. (I love ya man).

When we started playing golf together we had children to supervise and visions of greatness. Now we have grandchildren to supervise us and our vision is quite different. Life is changing. We are retired. We are getting older. We don’t hit the ball as far or as straight as we used to but we still laugh more on the tee than we concentrate on our form. Ron swears at the end of the last hole that he will never play golf again. Ken explains his use of the unplayable lie “technique”, and I whine about not playing enough to be effective. But we all know we will play together again as soon as possible and love it.

Probably when we finally walk the yellow brick road and get to see the wizard, the first thing we will ask him is if he has a tee time available and can we hit from the gold tees? Ken will insist he can hit from the blues, so as always we will play from the whites. We know each other too well. Maybe we can get a flying monkey to caddie, and Dorothy can drive the beverage cart. The Emerald City will never be the same.