Golf Commentary in a Universe Where Nobody Keeps Tract of Strokes, Yardage or Statistics

golf course grass

Commentator # 1:  There goes the great legendary golfer Arnold Palmer.

Commentator # 2:  Arnold Palmer!

Commentator # 1:  He sure is good at golfing!

Commentator # 2:  He’s won the Masters like . . . a bunch of times.

Commentator # 1:  I know!  He’s the winning-est winner who ever won!

Commentator # 2:  You can say that again!

Commentator # 1:  He’s the winning-est winner who ever won!

Commentator # 2:  Ah ha haaaa!

Commentator # 1:   Ha ha ha!

Commentator # 2:  Ah ha haaaa HA HA!

Commentator # 1:  HAAAAAAAAA ha!

Commentator # 2:  ahhhh . . . but seriously remember that time the great legendary golfer, Arnold Palmer, was playing in the Masters and he got up on the green and he eventually putted the ball into the hole?

Commentator # 1:  An Incredible moment!

Commentator # 2:  That will forever cement the great, legendary golfer, Arnold Palmer, in the annals of golf greatness.

Commentator # 1:  What will?

Commentator # 2:  The way he putted the ball into the hole at the Masters.

Commentator # 1:  Oh that!

Commentator # 2: Yeah what did you think we were talking about?

Commentator # 1:  I thought we were talking about his hair.

Commentator # 2: No, really?  Ha ha ha!

Commentator # 1:  Ah ha haaaa!

Commentator # 2:   Ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Commentator # 1:  Ah ha haaaa HA HA!

Commentator # 2:  Haaaaaaa HA!

Commentator # 1:  Ahhhhh . . . .but seriously the truly noble thing about the great, legendary golfer, Arnold Palmer, is that he came from an ordinary background in which he didn’t have to overcome anything and yet he’s arguably the best golfer who has ever lived.

Commentator # 2:  What about Tiger?

Commentator # 1:  I said arguably.

Commentator # 2:  Oh, sorry  I didn’t hear that part.

Commentator # 1: No, really?  Ha ha ha!

Commentator # 2:  Ah ha haaaa!

Commentator # 1:   Ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Commentator # 2:  Ah ha haaaa HA HA!

Commentator # 1:   Ahhhh . . . . but seriously, do you know how many times the great legendary golfer Arnold Palmer has made a hole in one?

Commentator # 2:  Who would know something like that?

Commentator # 1:  I don’t know, but I bet it’s a bunch.

Commentator # 1:  Yeah probly.

Commentator # 2:  You mean probably?

Commentator # 1:  No.

Commentator # 2:  Ah ha haaaa!

Commentator # 1:   Ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Commentator # 2:  Ah ha haaaa HA HA!

Commentator # 1:  Haaaaaaa HA!

Commentator # 2:  Yup.  There he goes the legendary golfer Arnold Palmer!

Commentator # 1:  I wonder where he’s going?

Commentator # 2:  Probably to the bathroom.

Commentator # 1:  You mean probly?

Commentator # 1: Yup!  Ha ha ha!

Commentator # 2:  Ah ha haaaa!

Commentator # 1:   Ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Commentator # 2:  Ah ha haaaa HA HA!

 

 

Until next time . . . I love you

 

Linda’s Guide To Speedy Novel Writing

Hello friends and welcome to the post that is going to change your life! 

Have you ever wanted to be a bestselling novel writer but thought it was too complicated or would take too long?

Well think no more!  Renowned Bestselling Novel Writer Wannabe Linda Vernon will have you mastering the art of writing a bestselling novel before the end of this post.  After all, they don’t call her  Renowned Bestselling Novel etc. etc. for nothing!

So let’s begin, shall we?

Step One: Obtain a Vocabulary

To become a bestselling novel writer, the first thing you are going to need is   are  is some words.  Here are (or is) some common places where words can be obtained:

1) Coming out of people’s mouths

2) Written on books, pamphlets, and brochures.

3)  Scrawled on park benches

4)  Cash register receipts

5)  Government documents

6)  Under rocks

7)  Carved into trees

8)  Hidden in tattoos

9)  Crop Circles

10)  Menus

Now that you are an EXPERT on how to find words, the next thing you will need is a bucket in which to place the words you just obtained like I did:

Vocabulary I have managed to obtain.

Step Two:  Find a Lucky Charm

Bestselling authors have always known that to be successful, they must beg, borrow, or scrape off the bottom of someone’s shoe a lucky charm.

Renowned Bestselling Author Wannabe Linda Vernon suggests you purchase an authentic Evel Knievel Lucky Charm Coin that renowned stuntman, Evel Knievel, kept in his pocket each time he performed a motorcycle stunt.

Yeah, he did break every bone in his body every single stunt, but think what would have happened if he HADN’T been carrying his lucky charm!

Artist’s Rendering of the Evel Knievel Coin

Evel Knievel Coins are free*
*(But allow $32,000 for Shipping and Handling –seems like a lot but they are handled non-stop for a couple of months!)

Step Three: Dump and Title

Now that you have successfully obtained your words and ordered your lucky charm, it is now time to dump you Lil’ Bucket o’ Words onto the pages of your novel.  (Depending upon how quickly your computer copy and paste function works, this should take no more than one to two seconds.)

Now for the fun part!  Coming up with a title for your bestselling novel!

To save you time, Renowned Bestselling Novel Writer Wannabe Linda Vernon has taken the liberty of designing a One-Title-Fits-All-Genres book cover design she guarantees they won’t be able to pull off the bookshelf fast enough!

The Wind Has No Last Name?
by
Your name here!

And there you have it, dear reader/bestselling novel writer!  You are now a bona-fide Bestselling Novelist.  If you don’t feel any different, don’t worry, it might take a couple of hours before this post takes effect.

Until next time . . . I love you

Linda’s Bedtime Stories for Grown Up Children

Rule Britannia

Rear Admirable Rasputin Riboflavin pondered the particulars of his forearm and the freshly inked tattoo thereupon that read “Kendall Labra Forever.”  He had never been so full of regret in his life.

Rasputin looked over at Commodore Shutthedore who was sleeping on the floor. Oh balderdash! It had been another one of those nights!

One didn’t have to be Sherlock Holmes, to  grasp the extent of the reveling that occurred during the height of the euphoria at last night’s annual British Navy Tupperware party.

Rear Admirable Rasputin Riboflavin hated himself for what he had become.  A Tupperware fiend.  Some officers could take it or leave it.  But not Rear Admirable Rasputin Riboflavin. He could only take it.

If only he weren’t so hell bent on preserving his leftovers in perfectly-engineered containers with their alluring interchangeable lids.  If only he could be transported back in time, before he ever heard of Tupperware and before he ever met beautiful Tupperware Consultant, Kendall Labra, whose name was now engraved in his Rear-Admiral forearm forever.

A set of six, neatly-stacked Fridge Stackables lay at Rasputin’s feet.  They were blue — a shade of blue that reminded him of something.  But what?  The blue of the Indian Ocean on a clear day beneath a cloudless sky? Or perhaps the blue of a Singapore Blue tarantula lazing on a leaf in the late afternoon Malaysia jungle?

Oh who was he kidding?  Of course he knew that blue!  It was the blue of Kendall Labra’s tempestuous eyes, a blue that flashed like a set of 16-ounce turquoise tumblers the day she left him to run away with Jimmy VonJanuary — taking her entire Tupperware collection with her –and leaving nothing in her wake but Rasputin’s broken heart and lots of spoiled leftovers.

“Say old chap!” Commodore Shutthedore was awake now.  Hadn’t we best be getting back to the battleship? The war will be starting soon.”

Rear Admiral Rasputin Riboflavin nodded solemnly and unrolled his sleeve until Kendall Labra’s name disappeared.

Rear Admiral Battleship

Until next time . . . I love you

 

Linda’s Incomprehensive Guide to Exercise

Hello Dear Readers! Welcome to Linda’s Incomprehensive Guide to Exercise.  Let’s dig right in, shall we?

History of Exercise: 1950 to 1959

The only kind of exercises that existed in the 50’s were jumping jacks, deep knee bends and squats and nobody did them without being forced to do so by a P.E. teacher, a football coach or a drill sargent. Those were the good old days when people ate anything they wanted and only went for walks to commune with a pack of Salem Cigarettes.

walking in forest smoking Salems

“Gosh, honey, it’s really pretty here when the smoke clears!”

History of Exercise: 1960 to 1969-ish

In the 60’s, exercise  boiled down to a little globule  of a man named Jack LaLanne.  Every day millions of everyday women would stand in front of their television sets to watch tiny Jack LaLanne cutely dressed in a teeny-weeny, one-piece jumpsuit, doing deep-knee bends while singing the praises of vitamins and veggies.  He is still alive to this day but, unfortunately, has continued to shrink  little by little over the years and, sadly;  is now only visible through a microscope.

jack Lalanne in Tux
Here’s Jack trying not to shrink out of his tux.

History of Exercise: 1970-ish to 1980-something or other

Somewhere around in here we got Jane Fonda. Jane was a busy Seventies Gal running around in her shag haircut winning academy awards, making aerobic videos and being against the Viet Nam War.

Everywhere you looked there was Jane Fonda shagalistically shorn in her leotards and leg warmers stretching, reaching, pulling, clawing and cloying.  Looking back it was quite Hanoi-ing.  But she single-handedly started the Aerobics Craze so you have to hand it to her — or trip her whichever you prefer.

Can it get anymore Hanoi-ing?

History of Exercise: 1980-something to somewhere in the 90’s on up

Somewhere in here Richard Simmons skipped onto the scene. What Richard Simmons had going for him was a heart of gold combined with an uncanny ability to sweat to pop songs that weren’t popular anymore.

Richard won over the hearts of  Americans by crying tears of happiness about how he used to be fat but wasn’t anymore; and he didn’t want you to be fat anymore either because it made him cry because you’re so, so fat and he’s not fat anymore.

Lately however Richard Simmons seems to have fallen off the face of the planet . . . or was pushed.

Richard Simmons, Sweating Professionally Since 1979

Present Day Exercise: 2015 to To-Be-Determined

In the interest of brevity, let’s be brief.  Exercise today boils down to one word:   Bicycling.  But not the old-fashioned kind of bicycling we all knew and loved in the 1950’s.  When bike riding simply meant hopping on our bikes wearing jeans and a tee-shirts and riding around the block while smoking  Salem Cigarettes.

People in the country smoking salem cigarettes
“Hey, honey, I think somebody stole our bikes!”  “Don’t worry, they can take our bikes out of the country but they can’t take the Salem out of our lungs!”   “Oh, honey, I love you!”   “I love you too!”

Now Riding a Bike is Groovy!

There’s a new, groovy way of riding one’s bike called cycling.  When cycling one must take up an entire car lane and pretend that one can pedal as fast as a car.

This is hard to pretend without the proper “pretending apparel” called cycling apparel which is a necessary technical piece of equipment necessary to make you comfortable technically while pretending to ride your bicycle as fast as a car can go.

It also helps if you make a “vroom, vroom” noise under your breath as you pedal along.

Bicyclist in full cycling apparel.
” Vroom! Vroom! I’m a blur!”

The New Groovy way of riding bikes can be a bit dangerous in heavy traffic, sure, but not too worry.  For every bicyclist that is run over by a car, a pedestrian somewhere in the world is being run over by a bicyclist.  So you see, it all evens out in the end.

Until next time . . . I love you

Those Wacky Archaeologists Are At It Again!

Pottery Fragments Discovered by Archaeologists from China and France 

A team of Chinese archaeologists working side by side with a team of French Archaeologists and only sometimes getting in each other’s way,  have discovered pottery fragments in a cave in Maiden, China now thought to be 20,000 years older than the pottery fragments of the Chinese family who are currently living in the cave.

“The pottery was probably used to cook food and/or water in.” Dr. Wang Lung Wang has been interpreted as saying by French Archaeologist, Jacques Pierre Jacques who claims to speak Chinese.

Pottery fragment of hunter gatherer who wasn’t very careful with his pottery.

“The pottery was used by hunter gatherers,” added Jacques Pierre Jacques, who holds a one-year Doctor of Archaeology Certificate from Yoplait Community College and who has been a leader in hunting and gathering pottery fragments of hunter gatherers for the last 37 years (except for the year he had to have his spleen removed).

In an unprecedented display of cooperation between French Archaeologists and Chinese Archaeologists, both teams agreed everyday during the excavation to order a large pepperoni pizza with olives and green peppers and split it so that both teams got exactly the same amount of slices.

The Oldest Known Rock Art in Britain Has Finally Been Discovered

A team of French Archaeologists led by renowned French Archaeologist, Jacques Pierre Jacques, (see above) has stumbled upon the oldest known rock art in Britain.  After tripping over some pottery fragments in a cave in Shrapnailshire, England,  Jacques Pierre Jacques (who has a terrible time seeing in the dark) stumbled upon a rendering of either a mosquito or a bison — he is unable to ascertain which one for certain until the French Archaeologists Team flashlight arrives.

Cave drawing of a mosquito (or possibly a bison) thought to be either 20,000 or 72, 000 years old by Jacques Pierre Jacques.

Gold Coins of the Past

Thirty-Seven  ancient gold coins produced in Holland were discovered underneath some oily rags in the basement of 1515 Cherry Rose Lane, Ottoman, Canada by Renowned French Archaeologist, Jacques Pierre Jacques while he was residing at the home of his brother-in-law, Pierre Jacques Pierre,  until some personal business of Jacques Pierre Jacques (which can all be explained) is cleared up.

Jacques Pierre Jacques estimates the coins to be worth somewhere in the neighborhood of  $25,000 in today’s dollars (Canadian).  The coins are thought to date back to the year 1732 because that is the year that is engraved on each of the coins; but Jacques Pierre Jacques insists on delivering the valuable coins, personally, to the lab for carbon dating.

Jacques Pierre Jacques has promised his brother-in-law that nothing untoward will happen to the gold coins on the way there and has even sworn as much on a stack of bibles that were produced shortly before the dawn of the middle ages.

Humorous Archaeology Happenings!

Last week in Ibuprofen, Germany,  a team of French Archeologists led by Jacques Pierre Jacques unearthed the grave of what they thought was going to be the remains of a viking pillager villager –but turned out, instead, to be the remains of Mrs.Gustav Heidelburg who was buried just last Wednesday.

A good laugh was had by all!

Until next time . . . I love you

Score One for Massaged Gums!

Hello Dear Readers!  I am delighted to report that  the other day, while I was milling around the thrift store, I came across this wonderful 1943 ad for Ipana Tooth Paste.   

It was so endearing, so inspiring, so downright uplifting that I just had share it with you! 

Traction Splint 1943

It seems feisty, first-aid, heroine, Kay Hunt was feeling pretty darn good about herself with her ability to whip up a traction splint as easily as she whipped up that batch of fudge last night —  just as she did every night . . . all alone . . .  with no one to talk to but her radio.

But in some sort of weird world war II gratitude, Kay Hunts’ traction-splint victim pointed out that she noticed — while Kay Hunt was taking two and a half hours to figure out how to tie a traction splint — that Kay Hunt didn’t brush her teeth  before leaving the house.

She even went so far as to tell Kay Hunt her dingy smile and pink toothbrush are the reason Kay Hunt couldn’t get a date — even though Kay has a perfect figure and looks like a movie star (but of course she didn’t say that last part out loud.)

Now instead of getting mad and wrapping that traction splint around her victim’s catty little neck, our once feisty first-aid,  heroine, Kay Hunt, became  instantly inconsolable.

Luckily, Kay’s friend who was wearing a military uniform — thus making her superior in intelligence, common sense, and personal hygiene — attempted to comfort Kay Hunt by pouring large quantities of salt in her wound and agreeing that Kay really did need to brush her teeth at least as good as  grade school children do and that nowadays the foods you eat won’t brush your teeth for you, which apparently used to be the case  prior to World War II.

Enter Creepy Dentist and Ipana Toothpaste

Kay Hunt star of 1943 toothpast Ad

So the next day our heroine Kay Hunt went to visit her oddly, creepy dentist who stood in such a way as to keep his distance from Kay lest he get a whiff of the air emanating from Kay’s . . . how to put this . . .  dingy smile.

He explained to Kay (from across the room) that in order to get a date Kay will have to massage her gums with Ipana Toothpaste in order to stimulate them!  Who knew? (Certainly not Kay!)

And boy did Kay feel sheepish having to be told this by her creepy dentist!  But sure enough Kay went right home and massaged her gums ad nauseum!

The next thing you know,  our feisty, first-aid heroine, Kay Hunt’s gums were so very, very massaged that she became a huge hit with the all branches of the armed services.

“I can thank this new-found smile of mine for winning me a military escort and a naval convoy!”  gushed our feisty, first-aid heroine, Kay Hunt.

And that, Dear Readers is  how our feisty, first-aid, world war II heroine, Kay Hunt, became a very, very busy girl for the rest of World War II.

Until next time . . . I love you

How to Drink a Caster Oil Sandwich in 1949

I found this little 1949 booklet at the thrift store the other day.

Apparently, back in 1949, before Facebook was invented, people had to make friends with whomever (or whatever) they could scrape up.

Alright fine, but how hard up does a person have to be to count Pure Bicarbonate of Soda as one of their friends?

I’m talking to you people of 1949! What were you thinking making Bicarbonate of Soda your friend?  Hello?  . . . ok, fine don’t answer me.

I’ll make something up and say it’s true. That’s what you get for ignoring me!

Let’s start by pretending we live in 1949.  What else were you doing today anyway. (I mean besides pretending to be working.)

As you know, the first thing to do when pretending anything is to rush over to Google and start asking a lot of unnecessary questions:

What was the cost of a first class stamp in 1949?   

Google says: $.03
Who was the President of the United States in 1949?

Google says: “Harry S. Truman”
Why did Newfoundland join the Canada Confederation?   

Google says: “You’re joking right?”

How do you write 1949 in Roman Numerals?  

Google says: “Get outta here kid, ya bother me.”

Well apparently Google got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. So let’s try to conjure up 1949 by using this picture from 1951 that I found in my baby book and subtracting 2 years from it in our minds.

Checking to see if limbs are operable
Me and Mom (I’m on the right)

As you can see from this picture of me and Mom, 1949 was rather bleak, stark and dark. On the upside, they did have doilies (one) and lamps (one) and a window (one).

And even though you don’t see any “friends” in this picture, I’ll bet you anything if you were to go into the kitchen, you would have found Mom’s besty, Pure Bicarbonate of Soda, relaxing on the kitchen shelf, at the ready for Mom should she suddenly need Dear ol’ Carby.

OK, now that our minds are firmly ensconced in 1949, let’s just pretend something came up, and we are going to need our new BFF, Dear ol’ Carby, to come to the rescue.

Let’s say we were in need of . . . oh I don’t know maybe a . . . CASTER OIL SANDWICH?

Apparently back in 1949, there was some weirdness going on. First, that a Caster Oil Sandwich was actually on any menu at all, and second, that  it was a sandwich  you were suppose to :“Drink while effervescing.” 

I don’t know about you, but I rarely effervesce when I drink sandwiches . . . but that’s just me.

What’s say we toddle back  over to Google, shall we?  And let’s ask Google why anybody would want to drink a Caster oil Sandwich:

Under what circumstances would someone drink a Caster oil Sandwich?

Google says: “Get outta here kid, you bother me!”

Fine be that way!

If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen with Dear ol’ Carby preparing a Caster oil Sandwich for our new besty, Goog.

Eww!
Until next time . . . I love you