Author: Tim Andersen

Independence, Liberty and the Pursuit of the $2 Beer
by BBQ Chip

Way back when, our founding fathers, Geo Wash, Thomas Jefferson, Arnold Palmer and friends forged the infrastructure for our Independence from, among other things, high green fees.  In fact, Thomas Payne's famous pamphlet, "Common Sense"  outlines this nations need to rid itself of British Colonial rule, taxation without representation while providing for public lands to be set aside for golf courses.  Not only did these men give birth to the home of the brave and the land of the free, they invented the muni.  Good golf at a fair price. How American is that.  It is in the spirit of these innovators, Ben Franklin invented the half way house and the turn dog, that I take umbrage with the high price of golf course beer.

At some of the "peoples courses" beer can go for 20 dollars or more for a cart sixer.  I know, the cities are in financial crisis and golfers must bail them out, but isn't this what caused all the troubles with England so long ago?

As a responsible journalist, I am not abdicating the likes of a Boston Tea Party even if a few boxes of Earl Gray wouldn't be missed.  What I do propose is much more scientific. 

Ask the offending course when a pint glass became 14 ounces?  When no answer is forth coming, inquire if the Department of Weights and Measures or perhaps Seven on Your Side need be notified.  I say, fight fire with firewater. If they bring the prices down our silence will be guaranteed.  It's the American way.  Somewhere Sam Adams, brewer and patriot, is pleased.

Next month  Chip Augustus, H.R.E.

Dads, Grads and Plaid
by Chip Emeritus, Professor of Golf Economics, PCGC

June is the month we honor the U.S. Open, grads and dad's financial independence.  I, as your loyal advice columnist never a blogger have an idea on how to combine the three.  Invite that ankle biting wallet draining graduate of yours out for a round of golf.  He'll think of this as another charity event sponsored by dear old dad, while you will have an ace up your sleeve.  Suggest  to the newly worldly individual that today you will bet and, oh yea, putt everything out.  Introduce to the scholar all the Poplar Creek specs, greenies, polies, Murphy's and two down auto presses.  Birdies, of course, double the number. 

It is your job to educate the graduate on some of the things he didn't learn in school. While junior may be  an expert on Renaissance painting, who doesn't enjoy looking at fat naked French girls, can he make a six foot putt to halve a hole?  At the turn, further his life lesson by ordering two beers and leave him holding the bill.  As you drive away from the shack, ask your chagrined son, "Where's yours, aren't you having any."  Remember his mom's not here and he's the reason you play hard scrabble munis and drink  discounted light beer.  Don't let up!

A victory cigar at this point would be crass and premature.  Instead offer to raise the stakes. (He may as well learn this lesson from you)  When the round is over and he is thoroughly deflated, ask him for a rematch next week.  His education will pay you back in spades.

If you have a daughter, read the fine print on her birth certificate.  It states in paragraph five that the fleecing will continue until the first wedding but not exceed the second divorce.

Next month BBQ Chip

Music in the Cafes, Revolution in the Air
By Chipo DeMayo

Historically Cinco de Mayo is the celebration of a Mexican victory over French forces in 1862. Unlike other French entanglements, see Germany, Vietnam, et al, they faced this contest alone and were routed.  It is believed this second tier army was the inspiration for the Harlem Globetrotters foil, the Washington Generals.  In essence, a General looks good in a uniform but lacks the ability to defend or fight.

As a holiday the fun loving  Mexican people felt cheated.  A victory over a European nation, even France, should be cause for mariachis, parades, and virgin sacrifices. Instead the populace of the Federal Republic ranked this holiday between Ground Hogs Day and Red's Tamale Day.  Despite government sponsored celebrity appeals, Charro was inexplicably not among them, the day languished on the calender.

Things remained until an obscure bartender from a sleepy Monterey village, invented a drink for lost love.  Fermin, his four last names unknown, decided to blend all things reminiscent of  his Margarita into a large pear shaped glass.  The tequila was for his fiery passion, the crushed ice for his melting hopes, the lime and the salt for her disposition.  The triple sec, was, well, a misread.

For her legs, he garnished the drink with a cactus wedge, thick and prickly. This cocktail was a Mexican sensation!  This stout and powerful drink refreshed  a party thirsty nation, renewed national pride, and just plain plain made people happy.  So this Cinco de Mayo, when your sipping on a Margarita, give a little nod to Fermin while listening for church bells in the town square.

Momentos Felices  (Happy Moments)

To many of my loyal readers (thanks mom and dad), April is the month of Easter, baseball’s opening day and the Masters golf tournament. It would be remiss of me, the clubs cultural liaison officer, not to mention it is also national poetry month.  So here is a little story of Chip, fate, and a right cross in verse.

It is Better to Give!
by Chip Masters

It happened on a night much like this,
   so gather round boys, it is a story not to miss.
I was at the Grill nursing a post round drink,
   when from across the room I spied a woman giving me “the wink”.
Emboldened by sweet elixir and encourage by her smile,
   I alit from by bar stool blazing a path in the tile.
A simple flip of her hair and a swish of her tail,
   brought this boy to his knees thanking god I was male.
Blond and slender, sexy and sassy,
   never had I seen a more perfect chassis.
Talk turned to sighs, and sighs to action,
   I now began to think of our mutual satisfaction.
My jokes were funny, I had never been so smooth,
   It was time to make my move.

In he came with a crash, a bang, and a thunder,
   this gorilla of a man was after my plunder.
It didn’t take long, just one swipe from his island sized paw,
   a right I think it was, landed square to the jaw.
As I lay there my face bruised and battered,
   my visions of conquest torn and shattered,.
I sat up with my eye plastered in steak,
   I began to hazily pondered my romantic mistakes.
Listen up boys and cut the chatter,
   it is the moral of my story that truly matters.
So take it from me, a man who was handed his lunch,
   it is better to give, than it is to receive, when it comes to a punch.

Next month Chipo De Mayo and the Margarita’s origins