Martin Pease

Now that the weather is nice, I've had a chance to get out on the links a few times. I'm still a lousy hacker, but I've achieved enough skill that I can at least get a few good shots each hole. The greater part of maturity is wisdom, and I've realized a disturbing truth: I am probably at my own personal peak golf. via GIPHY Not peak from the standpoint of my skills; I hope I continue to improve as a player. But peak in my enjoyment of the game. I have such low expectations for my abilities that I'm never too disappointed, and every time I get a good shot I'm elated. I worry that as I work to get better, I'll actually be better, and so will be upset with myself more often when I don't play up to my own level. As it stands, I enjoy myself pretty much even when I'm not doing well. 4-putt an easy 8 foot lie? Shucks, too bad, oh well. It's a nice day and maybe I'll have a good drive next hole.

Spring sprang last week, finally, after the Winter that Wouldn't Quit, and we are blessed with some of the nicest days of the year. The bright green foliage has yet to darken, and so the world feels fresh and new. Perfect weather for some top-down motoring. For the last 9 years or so, I've pretty constantly had a convertible of some sort in my garage, for days just such as this. This is the biggest luxury I indulge in, from a monetary standpoint, because it really is unnecessary except for the pleasure it gives me. Most "luxury" cars are really just expensive cars ; most people need a car, and so the ownership of one is not a luxury. A third car such as a roadster or convertible* is a true luxury car, even if a particular one is not expensive. My first roadster was a horrid 1974 Fiat 124 Spider. I bought it for $1,000, and it was broken in the way that most Italian cars of the period are- every. It leaked and burned oil, the top was torn, the transmission was dy

April snow and now May rain Birds sing their little tweet-tweet No more slush and no more sleet The lawn rises, verdant again Push on, clone, push on That's a lot of grass! Makes me tired, just to think Of all that mowing, but mmm this drink Sure is tasty as I sit on my ass Push on, clone, push on Jason whips his rowers The Argus never slowers Coffee's for closers This water's for mowers Quit yer whining, clone, push on The Joneses must be kept up to He's out there daily with a trimmer Before the sunlight fades to dimmer The grass must be just so Push on, clone, push on I survey the finished spread Pleased in all my hard work Don't give me that smirk Cheerless clone! Now's it's off to bed Well done, my clone, well done