My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Like Golf
Life is like golf. No one really knows how to play, no matter how long he or she has been at it, and each of us can appear quite ridiculous as we go along. There are, in both life and golf, the times when it all comes together and even if it is but one shot of the hundred taken it keeps you playing.
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