Tidbits - May 25 2017



  There’s only so much fun old people can have in one day.
  My Saturday began with the Saluda High football team golf tournament that kicked off, so to speak, at 8 a.m.
  Our press box team from a year ago had to be recast when Wayne Grice and Sam Shealy couldn’t play. I got my brother Jamie and nephew Morgan Jones to join Dean Roesner and me.
  As usual, our goal was not to finish last, and we accomplished this by a whopping two strokes.
  Morgan was the only one in our group who had played golf recently, but you couldn’t tell it.
  We began on number nine and didn’t do anything embarrassing until we got to number 11.
  Our best drive was short of our desired landing area, and our only hope of reaching the green was to hit a long shot between two trees.
  Jamie hit a good “just in case” shot up the fairway, and the other three tried to make the shot over water.
  If you remember last year on our beach trip, I attempted to hit between two trees and Morgan videoed it. My shot hit one tree, ricochet to the other, then came right back at me and almost hit Morgan.
  Saturday before my attempt,  I told Morgan, “You better video this.”
  He did, and did I hit a tree? I did. It was posted later on Facebook for all the world to see.
  Morgan and Dean did not hit either of the trees, but their golf balls took swims.
  Thanks to Jamie’s safety shot, we were able to par the hole.
  On number 12, I hit a pretty good approach shot that landed two feet from the green, right in front of a stick.
  As I got closer, the stick began the move. It was  big, long, black snake, and you know how much I love snakes.
  From a distance, I took of picture of my ball, the snake and Dean in the background.
  That was my second day in a row of taking a snake picture. I took one in my front yard Friday. I don’t like that. At least, they weren’t poisonous.
  We scrambled to make pars on our first four holes, then on number 14, one of the easiest holes on the course, we had a bogey.
  Than came number 15. This par 3 is always at “closest to the pin” hole. For my team, we play closest to the green. None of our shots landed in the Promised Land.
  Jamie’s was the closest, and we had to hit over a trap that fronts the green. Jamie’s shot almost went in the cup and ended up only a foot away.
  We parred number 6, and Morgan and I both had good drives on number 17, which amounted to nothing. I forgot which of the other three hit the one shot that got on the green, but it was 50 feet from the cup.
  Our goal was to putt close enough for a gimme. Morgan was up last and sunk the miracle putt!
  We then birded 18, number one, and number four. We were one a roll, but all good things much come to an end.
  I hit one of my best drives ever on number eight. It rolled down this hill to give us a shot at the green in two on the par 5.
  Like on number 11, we got Jamie to hit a safety shot. “Swizzle, swizzle, dunk.” Well, that didn’t work.
  Morgan, the long hitter,  was up next.  “Swizzle, swizzle, swizzle, dunk.”
  Dean didn’t worm burn his shot. It made to the pond in the air.
  I had no choice but to hit a safety shot to near the edge of the pond.
  Dean, Jamie and I all baptized another ball. We were waiting for Morgan to follow suit, but he hit it over .... right into the back sandtrap.
  We bogeyed the hole to finish two under.
  We laughed a lot, and enjoyed the event.
  Along the way, Jamie quoted Mark Twain, “Golf is a good walk spoiled.”
  Normally, with an early event such as this, I would take the rest of the day off, after a long nap, but I had the Catherine Metts-Carey Ridgell wedding attend at 5 p.m. at Saluda Baptist.
  My nephew Trey, whose team was 14 under in the tournament, officiated, so he didn’t have much time off either.
  When two young people from the same small town get married, many people are close to both of them.
  I’ve known Carey all his life. His grandmother Annelle Ridgell, father Ricky and aunt Marilyn Blease all grew up at Emory Church, along with my family.
  Catherine’s brother Ryan came to work at the Sentinel as intern when he was 15, and stayed for five more years, working summers when he was in college. I’ve known their parents Lee Ann and Alan since they were kids.
  It was a beautiful wedding.
  The reception was held at T&S Farms in Leesville, where my nephew Graham Bowdler married Sherra Graham. I was beginning to get a little tired.
  I enjoyed the fellowship and the Shealy’s BBQ at the reception, but when the dancing began I thought of what Mr. Bob White used to sing when he came into the Sentinel office, “Too old to cut the mustard.”
  There were a load of weddings in the area Saturday. Some people attended parts of several.
  None will top the one Ryan Metts is going to next week.
  Two of his college friends decided to have a destination wedding and asked Ryan to be a member of the wedding party. The destination is Ireland, and Ryan had to buy his own tux! He’s leaving Friday and coming back mid-week.
  That would be fun. I had a great time when my niece Erin and Ryan Coleman got married at the beach.   There were no leprechauns involved in this one, however.


  Our pastor Paul Cheezem had a great story in his sermon last week.
  When he was in high school, he and several of his buddies from Marion drove to Columbia to spend the night with his grandparents, who lived on Rosewood Drive.
  The purpose of the trip was not to socialize with Paul’s grandparents. The teens were coming to hear Three Dog Night in concert at the Carolina Coliseum.
  Hearing that stirred memories in me, because I attended that concert.
  The last words Paul’s grandmother said to the teens was, “Come right home after the concert.”
  Do you think they did that?
  Paul said they decided to ride around after the concert and smoke a few cigars along the way.
  They soon discovered something important, however.
  He said it was easy to get from Rosewood Drive to the Coliseum, and easy to get from the Coliseum to Rosewood Drive. Those two locations are not far apart.
  In their riding around, they realized they had no idea where they were.
  As Paul said in his sermon, “There was no such thing as a cell phone back then.”
  His grandmother took matters into her own hands. When the boys’ did not come home within a reasonable amount of time,  Grandma called the police, and asked them to look for the boys in a Volkswagen van, which Paul said was pretty easy to spot.
  Soon a blue light began to flash behind the boys, and the driver pulled over. The policeman got out of his car, the driver rolled down the window and the cigar smoke poured out.
  “Is there a Paul Cheezem in this van?” the officer asked.
  “Yes, sir,” Paul said.
  “Your grandmother said to come home!”
  Ironically, one of Three Dog Night’s greatest hits that they sang that night was “Mama Told Me Not To Come,” which featured the line, “that ain’t the way to have fun, son.”


  I’ve watched “The Voice” off and on since it came on, but this season I have only watched sporadically.
  The reason? “The Voice” winners disappear off the face of the earth.
  On the final show they usually bring back previous winners, and most people say, “Who is that?”
  “The Voice” gives more attention to the judges than the contestants.
  A few years ago, I started following teenaged winner Sawyer Frederick on Instagram, figuring he was going places. So far, he “ain’t left the station.”
  I’m glad “American Idol” is coming back, because that show produced legitimate stars.
  Some other shows confuse me.
  I try many of the Netflix produced series, or at least an episode.
  Sunday night, I decided to watch the first episode of “Riverdale,” which is based on the old Archie comic books. Well, supposedly.
  Remembering, Archie from my youth, I fully expected to see a comedy series.
  The characters were all there, Archie, Betty, Veronica, Jughead, etc., but they weren’t funny. The series is based on solving the death of a star football player.
  Why did they need the Archie characters for a murder mystery? Makes no sense.
  I watched the first few episodes of another Netflix series, Anne with an “E,” based on “Anne of Green Gables.”
  Anne is a skinny, unattractive redheaded girl, and she is often called unflattering names to her face in the series.
  You have to have compassion for the young lady who plays the character, don’t you?
  I hate when Netflix series end and you have to wait an eternity until they come back.
  “House of Cards” returns this week, featuring a dirty Presidential election. How unbelievable is that?
  Last season ended before the real Presidential election. I’m anxious to see if the writers draw any parallels.
  President Frank Underwood is about as popular in the series as President Trump is in real life, but Underwood has actually committed crimes ... like murder. Plus, he’s from South Carolina, so we have to pull for him!