Category: Columnists

Saturday Morning Cartoons
Media Chip

It was at a recent speaking engagement promoting my up coming book, There Is No Off Switch To Genius that I was accosted by the media.  The reporters, many of whom I am well acquainted, began to circle making outrageous claims and comments.  It was like a feeding frenzy of hungry sharks and I was their seal dinner.  Microphones and tape recorders were thrust into my face.  Demands for a statement were shouted above the noise.

I was momentarily stunned.  Was this media blitzkrieg the work of my attorney Blue Moon Retainer?  Was this his effort to increase book interest Jerry Springer style?  If not, what happened?  I pondered this as I pretended it was too loud to hear their questions..  Did Mel become the first female member of the men's club?  Did Levi come out of retirement for the up coming season? Did Sandy Shields pay his bar tab?  Finally, I yelled, comment on what?

A shapely anchor woman from an obscure cable access channel said the Charles Schultz Foundation has had a cease and desist order placed on me for the slander and drunken depiction of Charlie Brown.  She further stated that my 90 proof lifestyle was in direct violation of his wholesome image and against several laws of nature.

"Chuck!", I yelled.  ""Chuck is a cartoon character for god sake. Although we have some shared traits, how can you compare us?  It just doesn't make sense."

Lets analyze the facts, Chip, then you decide, she said.  Do either of you ever wear anything other than short pants?  Have either of you have ever won an argument?  You both have barely average fast balls. If that doesn't convince you, this one will.  What's that I said, I have to know.  With an evil smile and a wink, she said, when was the last time either one of you got the girl?

Ouch, I was humbled.  That my life's adventures were comparable to a cartoon guy who never had a permanent Saturday morning gig hurt.  He never met Josie and the Pussycats, Speed Racer, Top Cat or any of the  other greats.  He is a middling celebrity trying hard  to keep the spot light lit. What are they trying to tell me?

It was time for my long awaited statement. "While there maybe some similarities and shared experiences, I am confident my attorney and bartender will  be up to the challenge of my defense.  Now, if you will excuse me, I have a date with thee red headed girl.  Take that Charlie Brown."

A Clear Conscience and A Cool Pillow
by Chip Light

I was sad sipping, sequestered in the corner, on what most days is my favorite bar stool.  I was a wallow in the post-round blues, sullen, contemplative and down right un-Chip like. What was causing this funk?  Was it the latest Iran crisis, OPEC or maybe Korea? Was it the lack of viable presidential candidates? No, this malaise ran deeper than trivial world matters.  It was clearly a moral issue.

I had a conflicted conscience.  My play had improved to the point where a penalty was accessed.  The bible or Arnie Palmer clearly states "Where practice has improved, let no man reduce." (Book of Jack, 18:majors) The only way to get this Machiavellian penalty removed was to play in more tournaments at a lower handicap.

My dilemma, do I play a couple of "throw out" rounds to have my honestly earned handicap restored?  Do I purposely cheat (play poorly) or do I chase the light that is the integrity of this game?

Sweat dripped from my untouched beer as well as my forehead.  Finally, Bill the Web, broke my silent reverie when he said, "Chip we have a range, a chipping area and two putting greens. The opportunity to improve is right here, I don't get it."

Practice takes time, effort and a desire to improve I said.  Too many of our stiffs want the results without the work.  It is just like the public school system. They raise the graduation rates by lowering the standards.  This way everyone feels good about themselves.  They deserve Hillary Trump.  Easy Chip, said the Web, finish that beer, order another and we will discuss something easy like the deficit.   

Play hard, play fair, play fast!
Chip In Time

My editor yelled, in a thoroughly uncensored, highly agitated state which possessed style, originality and creativity, that my article was @#$%^^ing late.  He belittled my abilities to read a watch and a calendar respectively.  He was again on the verge of firing me from this unpaid job, when I mentioned that I was in the last group of a recent PCGC tournament. He paused, quickly nodded, almost apologized, and said for the first time in our relationship, "I understand".

Floored by those two words, I began to ponder why we play so slow. Jordan Speith, winner of the U.S. Open at Chambers' Bay played in the same five hours and thirty minutes it took me to play Poplar Creek.
The Open had forced carries, knee high fescue, young lions and an old Tiger.  We were playing lift, clean and place, had carts and not a tuft of rough.  WHAT HAPPENED? Is it possible that we have more prima donnas than the PGA tour?

My staff quickly commissioned an independent study to reveal whether it was possible to read Tolstoy's 'War and Peace' faster than to play our front nine. The findings show 'War and Peace' to be five minutes faster for the average reader.  Thirty minutes faster in English. Things must change, valuable bar time is being wasted.

In a somewhat sober search of local laws and the rules of golf, my trusty attorney Blue Moon Retainer, and I may have found the answer to improve the pace of play. Golfers found guilty of slow play will be sent to the range.  They will be marched out forty yards from the tees, offered an optional blindfold and cigarette, and told to stand still.  A select group of "archers", low handicappers in the Soo, Kmac, Ungaretti mold will be given 10 balls and a seven iron. In NCGA events, a wild card, free swinging 14 handicapper will be give 5 balls and a driver. Good natured wagering by the membership on who is the best "archer" will be encouraged. 

"It's good for the game, plus it will help me hone my punch shots", said Swingin' Mr. Stevens.  Keep up, speed up, or pick up!