Author: Tim Andersen

Three Halves

Three Halves
By Chip By The Numbers

Fire, pestilence and a National League designated hitter, has God forsaken us?  I am not sure, but I am certain He has put us on the watch list.  These are, indeed, troubling times.  Rumor around the fifth green is that the CIA, FBI and MTV have the PCGC on happy hour surveillance.  Is it because this is an election year?  Are the Russians involved?  Why, with all their vote-rigging technology and experience would they care about our election?

Jason is running unopposed in a non-paid, unappreciated position, to serve a largely uninformed, indifferent and complaining membership.  He’s got to win!  Imagine if there was some CCCP election hanky-panky and an outsider got elected.

Who would work for such wages?  Is Billy Carter still alive?  How about O.J. Simpson?  He’s not working at the moment and seems to spend a great deal of time at golf courses.  I do believe it is a short list.  We could take the first loser in the national election, but one hates California and the other might get lost on the way.  

No, these guys won’t do.  It has got to be a character with character.  It’s too bad that Mel’s a woman.  Wait one minute, hold the presses, it’s a wonderful thing that Mel’s a woman, but unfortunately she can’t be the president of the men’s club.

What we need is a man who is half magician, half shrink and half nuts to do this job. Old Tom Morris said it best, “Three halves make a whole” (good golfer, lousy mathematician) .

We have such a man, Vote Jason!

Household Chores

Household Heroes
By Granite Chip

Heroes belong here, literally.  In a day when the country is in doubt and unsure of its providence, pedigree and purpose, it is refreshing to know we have never wavered in our membership.  While it is true, our boys have never slept with a Kardashian, except maybe Levi or Mike Toomey, (those girls dig the stars), been indicted by a grand jury, if you don’t count Cabo Nick, or have been caught in a gambling raid other than Big Al, Sonic Sid and Artie, we are solid, 87%  law-abiding citizens.  We are dedicated to advancing golf and helping those within our reach.

We have sons of civil servants, teachers, cookie salesmen, linemen, and demolition experts, men who are household heroes.  They bring home the bacon, fly under the radar, except maybe Randy G and Swingin’  Mr. Stevens, and are accountable for (most) of their actions.  Our members have been essential long  before essential was a buzz word. These men count and have always been counted on.

The monies raised for the needy children at Christmas and the course workers during the shutdown are never mentioned in our hallowed muni halls, but probably rival and surpass our country club soulless neighbors. I am proud to be around such unsung heroes.  

Just remember boys, leave your capes at the pro shop door before entering.

Biscuits and Brandy

Biscuits and Brandy
By Chip Knows All

We are back!  Last Sunday I saw the stars of Poplar Creek out in force, sauntering down the fairways, talking mess, being upstanding members.  For six hours, the world healed, disease, famine, and prohibition were lifted, ascots were back in style.  Par, bogie or triple, who cared, golf was being played again.  It was grand,  Yes, grand.

The boys, keeping two yards apart, availed themselves of the table service on the patio.   Wine and stories flowed.  Old yarns spun with new enthusiasms echoed onto the 18th green like in days of old.

Biscuit in his size Bochy Giant’s cap, was a welcomed sight and a harbinger to the normalcy we all hope will soon come.  At the southeast table, Cabo Nick was licking his wounds from his latest fleecing, listening to Steve O explain, again, how his match was much closer than the 10 and 8 score indicated.

The heady Sons of Civil Servants were in a lively discussion on the medical advantages of Vitamin V.  “A bloody Mary has, like, 20 vitamins and minerals in it.  You ask any fireman and they’ll tell you,” stated the impassioned Jim Lambrechts.  Brother Marty nodded in agreement.

“Hey. what about the three B’s?, demanded Frankie Moro.  Beer. Bourbon and Brandy founded  this country.  Saint Bernards all over the world have  fantastic rescue rates, and they only use brandy.  I rest my case.”

The discussion went late into the afternoon with both parties at an impasse.  It was agreed upon that this brand of health care is far superior to Dr. Phil or Kaiser.  The PCGC HMO requires no co-pay or monthly installments.  It only requires over tipping, the strongest  medicine of all.

5-2 Against

5-2 AGAINST
By Iso ChIp

It’s poetry month and you are quarantined, how much better does it get.  We here at Chip love an audience, even if it’s held at gun point.  Sit back and enjoy Chip in verse.  

I was shopping during these times of trouble,
happy to escape my shelter-in-place bubble.

Cruising the aisles in sweats and a Titleist Cap,
a most pleasant diversion from television and my next nap.

I was hoping to go unnoticed and blend,
buy my groceries, let the world mend.

My plan was solid, my execution was true,
how could I account for eyes so blue?

Taken by surprise, I was stirred and shaken,
my steady hands caught the eggs, but dropped the bacon.

Her blues sparkled with a come hither hue,
egad boy, don’t do it, don’t start something new.

Fueled by my isolated imagination, I was smitten,
mask and all, I wanted to mitt this kitten.

We were socially six feet apart,
God man, back to back, that’s two shopping carts.

The nuns require only a 12 inch rule,
An additional five feet, man I wish I were back in school.

It’s fourth and two,
go for it, or punt, the dilemma of a love struck fool.

I was pacing the meat department,  awaiting the call,
hoping for a clean snap, don’t fumble the ball.

Where could I take her, not to dinner or a bar,
how gauche take out pizza in my car?

My butcher called the play, “Line plunge on one,”
fly the two yards, win the girl, get it done.

My deli guy yelled, “Go on and get her,”
my soaring leap fell short, as a cart snagged my sweater,

Instead of landing strong and taking her in my arms,
I was knee deep in produce and Lucky Charms.

As constant as this big blue orb is a twirl,
the odds remain  5-2 against Chip getting the girl.