That Midnight Train is Whining Low

Last night I went for a walk down to the railroad tracks and decided to walk up the tracks a short way. There's something about walking on the tracks (I am not recommending this to anyone) that brings back great memories and this was an enjoyable walk into the past.

I have been suffering through a bad case of melancholy for several days now. I am sure that it was brought on by my little buddy's return to Denver and it pains me when I get home from work and have no one to play with. So I thought it best to write another article as a little therapy for the soul. I'm not complaining, I know people who get annoyed with constant complaining, so I have a standard litmus test for complaints. I look at what my complaint is and ask one question; can I do anything about it? If the answer is yes, then I do something about it, if it is no, I just shut up. Just a little Ol' Simmons philosophy for those who care to hear it.

As I approach my 56th birthday in a couple of weeks, knowing that I can retire if I choose to do so, I feel it necessary to take a glance at where I am in life. I've never been a goal oriented person who enjoys running in the fast lane, but more of the boring day to day character actor in a long running soap opera. I have never felt like I was the star of the show, just a bit player in the lives of my friends and family. Throughout my entire life I have been blessed with an abundance of good friends and a pretty darn good family.

Fortunately, I have found a few hobbies that I enjoy. First of all, I seem to have an insatiable desire to read anything that has to do with history. Good fortune has shone upon me again, because there are countless books out there and I shall never be at a loss for a good read. I also have a forum now where I can write about whatever I want and in return, I get to read some wonderful stuff from my friends.

All in all, I'd say I'm at a pretty good place in life. However, there is one more facet of my life which needs to be examined a little more thoroughly. Sometimes I feel that it is the most important part of my life and the idea of it can consume my conscious thoughts for hours. It is an obsession and an addiction and still, it is therapeutic for the heart and mind. When I can't sleep at night and thoughts of work or some other unpleasant experience weighs on my mind, I force myself to think of this and it will sooth my senses, ease my mind and allow me to drift off to a peaceful slumber.

Golf is my addiction. It is my nemesis and my friend, my sorrow and my elation and I often wonder why I even play the silly game. First of all, the game provides a social setting for me to be with a lot of my friends. The game of golf provides me with the venue to interact with good friends and to become lost in my own thoughts all at the same time.

I love to play the game. It is that simple, I just love to play the game. The feeling that I get when I strike the ball well with a 3 or 4 iron is indescribable. To me it feels like I never even touched the ball. I have not become a devotee of the hybrids yet because of this very fact. I would hate to think that I couldn't go out and hit some long irons, but I would wager to say that my day is coming.

I've never been long off of the tee and I'm not an especially good putter. I can get a little streaky with the putter at times and make a few, but that doesn't occur too often. I've tried to emulate Curt and just brush them in, I've tried the Bart approach and take dead aim at the back of the hole, I've even tried copying the stroke of the greatest putter in Greene County, that aging shortstop, Jack Johnson, but I've never been able to get the desired consistency with any of these strokes. I need to find something, a personal swing thought that will work for me for all types of putts.

There are days when I feel like I can play fairly decent and then...something sneaks into my swing and brings me back to reality. But all is not lost when this happens because it provides me with a challenge to figure out what went wrong and to find the necessary corrections to the swing. That is the beauty of the game, the challenge to find and fix the problems as soon as possible.

Then there are days when the swing gets really ugly and it seems like I have lost it for good. As Thomas Paine wrote, "These are the times that try men's souls..." I'm sure he was playing golf with Ben Franklin when he wrote that. The game is a mystery every time I step on the course. It is a puzzle that begs to be solved.

There are days when I keep thinking that if I can just maintain my game, I might get old enough to shoot my age. I'm fairly sure that I won't live to be that old, so I am considering going on a diet and trying to bowl my weight. Oh my, that's a lot of weight to lose.

As I walked down the tracks last night, something came to me. The tracks appear to just go on forever. If you walk further they still seem to go on forever. I surmised that they must end somewhere...somewhere like a black hole that just consumes everything. Have you ever seen the moon go down over the tracks at night? At just the right time, there is this huge golf ball sitting on the railroad tracks. I could putt that moon right down the tracks. Those tracks lead right to a big black hole that consumes everything. With a swing thought like that I may never miss another putt. Right down the tracks into a big black hole. I've got it, now to get to the course and try it out. Man I feel good.