I Had A BLAST!

I've accomplished the two goals I set out to accomplish before the baby is born. One was to break 80 in golf which I have now done twice and the other was to play Pebble Beach which I did last Wednesday. I played like crap but that's ok. The experience was amazing and the ending was perhaps the greatest thing that has ever happened in my life.

Understand that Pebble Beach is a walking course. It's a hilly six mile jaunt through the California coastline with 40 pounds strapped to your back, along which you swing a stick at about 100 mph 90 or so times. For a man of my stature (i.e. fat), this is an ordeal. I made it, but I was pooped.

Pebble Beach is a luxury golf course. They charge a pretty penny to play it but the course and service and second to none. One of the services they provide is when you finish your six mile hike, they ask you to sit on a bench so they can clean out your golf spikes. Nice touch. Instead of brushes, they use compressed air from a hose to clean out your spikes. Once they do so, you start to lower your foot but the attendant then does something unexpected.

He sticks the hose inside your shoe and turns the air on.

I've tried to be honest throughout this blog. Sure, I may have made some exaggerations here and there but most were for the good of the story. But I swear upon the soul of my unborn child that if after playing Pebble Beach, the attendants there offered me the choice of oral pleasure from a still hot 18 year old redheaded Lindsey Lohan, or air in the shoe I would take air in the shoe every single time.

This was by far the greatest thing I have ever felt. It was like angels filled my shoe and were massaging my foot with chilly pillows. I begged the attendant to do it again. He obliged and sent me back to heaven, over and over again for the good part of what seemed like mere seconds to me but my playing partner assures me was the good part of 5 minutes.

After it was over and I had heavily tipped the attendant for introducing me to the nectar that is air in the shoe, I proceeded to regale my partner for hours about my new found love of air in the shoe. He eventually got sick of it and started to try to change the subject. "NO!", I cried. "This entire night will be filled with nothing but my adoration of air in the shoe. Your just going to have to suck it up!"

If you own a air compressor, charge that baby up and go for a long walk. When you get back, stick that hose in your shoe and experience the unbridled ecstasy.

It's better then sex.

It's better then steak.

It's better then playing Pebble Beach.

I don't know if it's better then watching your firstborn child come into the world. I'll know soon. If I was a betting man, the kid would be a long shot at best.