and now a word aboot 'proper golf course' attire.
context:
how us swamp yankee dress in the winter,
cold? meh. wool hat, shorts. it's the law, as i've been told. i don't want to break the law. the only problem with this law is that up in Vermont, they have an addendum stating 'and the wool hat has to be as ridiculous looking as possible, with little tibetan balls, or antlers hanging off the lid.' (related Vermont sidepoint: iffn u mashup grateful dead with phish, you get dead fish.)
context, 2:
i always shoot in the 70s. if it's colder, i ain't goin out.
the story.
my regular links pals have developed a nervous tic. often, u can see them in the parking lot frantically fishing around in their car, looking for an extra collared shirt to have handy in case the man brings the heat to ol cliffy and his t-shirt issues. it takes like a nanosecond for me to be peeling down to a t-shirt as soon as the starter is in the rearview, cuz, you know, often it's smokin hot out there. i don't go shirtless tho. i ain't no heathen. so, my pals are a bit scarred from the possible kabuki theater waiting for them.
the ranger: 'i thought we cleared this up an hour ago. sir, u must wear a collared shirt on the course.'
me: well ya see, my buddie got mad and poured a beer on me, and i took it off to rinse it out in the pond.'
the ranger: 'sir, please put on an appropriate collared shirt or i'll have to ask you to leave...'
so i can't wear a t-shirt, but youse can parade around out there in pink pants with little green whales on them? seriously? fight the power.