Played “Pebble Beach” with my nine-year-old son the other day. Well, it wasn’t big Pebble, but little Pebble and, I must write, in deference to the moguls of margin and the top brass of turf grass — the Pebble Beach Company — that if this is not the greatest value in golf it surely ranks . . . → Read More: Playing “Pebble”
During the summer of discontent, political unrest, racial strife, international conflict, sectarian wars and worse, we thought it might be time to introduce the idea of world affairs to the dinner-table conversation list.
The nine- and ten-year-old were having none of it. The deflected, demurred, denied and declined. The attempt to raise consciousness of the . . . → Read More: Kid Wisdom
Brush clearing, biomass reduction, defensible space or xeriscape. They’re all one in the same.
Or maybe not. Defensible space has to do with cutting back and clearing. Xeriscape is about planting and cultivation. But they both relate to the yard and, more broadly, the landscape, managing growth, and our most precious limited resource: rain and . . . → Read More: The Two-Stroke Solution
Crazy how a kid’s mind works. How the switch gets flipped. The light turns on. The engine revs and the wheels start turning.
If you’d asked me a week ago — last Saturday — if I could envision playing golf with my nine-year-old son and my golf-disinterested wife, I would have nodded politely and said, . . . → Read More: On Gaining a Golfer…in Six Days Time.
“It’s expensive, time consuming and frustrating. But if you’re interested, I’ll support you 100 percent.”
— On being told that someone — a friend, acquaintance, relative — is interested in taking up golf.
Been thinking mostly how frustrating the game is. Even the Santa Cruz County municipal venue, DeLaveaga Golf Course, seems strikingly hard, particularly . . . → Read More: On Golf and the Search for “The Friendly Confines.”
This is for friends and relatives back east, New York and Boston, those in proximity to the Munson-Nixon line (Westchster, Worcester, you know who you are) and assorted environs. Also for a few friends in LA, but I’ll get to you in a minute…
For those back east, I recall how on those hazy, hot . . . → Read More: Midsummer Baseball
I can never remember the season when deer are supposedly more active — spring, fall, the rut? — and, by extension, more of a threat to drivers. But I do know that hardly a few days pass that I don’t see one or two on or near a road.
Driving my daughter home from evening . . . → Read More: Oh, Deer
Played the trifecta in Berkeley last weekend. How often do you have a chance to do that? You line up three events — say, dinner, concert and single-night stay in a boutique hotel — purchase your tickets, make your reservations, outsource your children, and the thoroubreds come across the line just like that: one, two, . . . → Read More: Couple’s Therapy in Berkeley
Broke out the golf clubs for a quick nine late last Sunday afternoon. Nine holes is vastly underrated as a sporting experience and, who knew, if the course was wide open, I might get in as many as 12 or 13, strategically counterscheduled as it was against live 49ers’ football.
Well, it wasn’t going to . . . → Read More: Sunset at Cinnabar Hills: Stuck Behind Flip-Flop and Doughboy
On the road to rediscovering the past, I’ve been listening to a lot of John Fogerty and Creedence Clearwater Revival.
“Up Around the Bend” is sort of a classic road-as-metaphor-for-life composition but it’s speaking to me on an entirely different level. It’s hitting me in my nascent road-cyclist core. As inspiration. As anthem. The opening . . . → Read More: Inspiration (and a possible anthem) for cyclists