afaceinthecrowd
Gold Meritorious Patron
Hats,
I agree!
Golf is a rotten game . . . my record is 23 hits and misses on one hole!
It was my last attempt at the stupid endeavor!
R
Golf is also a damn pitiful waste of good cattle pasture land.
Face
The Little Thread Which Grew - the Apollo '73 to Everything But
- Thread starter lkwdblds
- Start date
- Status
Golf is also a damn pitiful waste of good cattle pasture land.
Face
CarmeloOrchards
Crusader
Golf is also a damn pitiful waste of good cattle pasture land.
Face
Having spent a large amount of time repairing the dozers and scrapers building golf courses, for me, the fun part of a golf course, is the building of one. Lots of earth gets moved. Big toys to play with. That's what I like.
Ted
Gold Meritorious Patron
Lakey, you are too old for innuendos. So is she. Time is running out. Get to the point in one word: Viagra.
In too words: Viagra. Now.
Whether you need it or not. She might think you do.
Personally, I like a little foreplay. "Let's get naked and see what comes up."
I could go on. Just don't waste time.
afaceinthecrowd
Gold Meritorious Patron
After he was struck by lightning at the 1975 Western Open, Trevino was asked by a reporter what he would do if he were out on the course and it began to storm again. Trevino answered he would take out his 1 iron and point it to the sky, "because not even God can hit the 1 iron."
RogerB
Crusader
Nice!
All this talk about golf reminds me of an example of mastery.
I love to watch performances of mastery, it is why I so enjoy sports and the performing arts even though at some of it I am the total incompetent . . . a la my anti-golf endeavors.
This true story is about golf though. It's about the greatest of the golf course designers, who was also an impeccable golfer: Robert Trent Jones.
Jones designed the first golf course to have a par three hole with no fairway, but instead have the green set wholly contained on an island in a lake. (It's a famous course, the name of which escapes me at the moment.)
When the club committee first addressed the course for play, there was all kinds of outrage at the "unfairness" of the hole. "Unplayable" came some of the accusative protests.
You see, to play the hole you had to hit a perfect tee shot to land and hold on the green . . . for that's all there was of the hole: the tee off and the green containing the hole. Miss that and you were in the water!
Trent Jones was accompanying them on their round, and on hearing the protest said, "Let me see, I'll test it."
Whereupon he played the perfect tee shot and holed in one!
"I declared the hole fair!" He said, "And eminently playable."
And history shows he was right . . . the hole stands and is still played as a testament to a master.
(But I still think golf is a rotten game!
)R
SweetnessandLight
Crusader
Here's to more joy!!!
Special to Johnny:
I'm with you on giving the Italian salute to all the misery and "crap" in our lives!!!
We've all exoperienced our share of misery.
I say, here's to experiencing more Joy!!! I know this is why we're here! (Well, that and hooking Lakey up with some of his old friends/old flames!) I know we all can do it in this present moment...no matter "what" is going on in our lives. There is a LOT of good being shared here...let it do it's work. Lurkers, I'm talkin' to you, too!!!
Thank you Veda, for the lovely quotes on reincarnation...they all resonate greatly with me! I've always loved Walt Whitman's especially, given the misery he witnessed!
Big hugs to all, busy, busy being a helper today...will get more caught up later. Big hugs and Much Love to all!
Special to Johnny:
I'm with you on giving the Italian salute to all the misery and "crap" in our lives!!!
We've all exoperienced our share of misery.I say, here's to experiencing more Joy!!! I know this is why we're here! (Well, that and hooking Lakey up with some of his old friends/old flames!)
I know we all can do it in this present moment...no matter "what" is going on in our lives. There is a LOT of good being shared here...let it do it's work. Lurkers, I'm talkin' to you, too!!! Thank you Veda, for the lovely quotes on reincarnation...they all resonate greatly with me! I've always loved Walt Whitman's especially, given the misery he witnessed!
Big hugs to all, busy, busy being a helper today...will get more caught up later. Big hugs and Much Love to all!
SweetnessandLight
Crusader
Ring Ring!
See? I keep telling you you're a popular guy!!! Soon your "social calender" will be filled!
See? I keep telling you you're a popular guy!!!
Soon your "social calender" will be filled!
SweetnessandLight
Crusader
I counsel patience!!!
Gee, and I was going to say...give it time, let the relationship unfold and let her be the one to make any romantic (O.K. 2D) moves on you!!! That's the vibe I'm getting about her...:confused2:
If nothing else, it can be a great friendship and those are worth their weight in pearls!!!
Well, Ted...We disagree here, but not too seriously! I still love ya!
Lakey, you are too old for innuendos. So is she. Time is running out. Get to the point in one word: Viagra.
In too words: Viagra. Now.
Whether you need it or not. She might think you do.
Personally, I like a little foreplay. "Let's get naked and see what comes up."
I could go on. Just don't waste time.
Gee, and I was going to say...give it time, let the relationship unfold and let her be the one to make any romantic (O.K. 2D) moves on you!!! That's the vibe I'm getting about her...:confused2:
If nothing else, it can be a great friendship and those are worth their weight in pearls!!!
Well, Ted...We disagree here, but not too seriously!
I still love ya!
SweetnessandLight
Crusader
Lakey, my Sweet,
Alan once said, wrote and published something that is very correct. He wrote, "All of life is a process." (the emphasis here is mine)
The fact is, no matter what we are doing, however it is we are relating or dealing with life or people or things . . . it is a process (we are applying).
If you get it right, all things are fine.
If you screw it up . . . well, you then get what you don't want or don't want to have to experience.
As it happens, Purple is correct. The topic and point I was commenting on was not your reading approach or response to Raffo's missive, but only your later technical analysis of your handling of it in which you addressed the issues of duplication of various things involved, as here:
We each do what we do in the way we can, and one should never be invalidated for it nor feel made invalid because of it; as it is what it is, and it is as right and proper as one is at any point in time.
My only little thing on it is that I sought to pull apart the mechanics involved so you and my other friends here could have some extra aspects to chew on.
What I wrote may not be true for all
R
You know, squirrel that I am, I agree with this!
SweetnessandLight
Crusader
Darn hoodlum!!!
I would just like to state my opinion that golf is a cult. Thank you!
Tue Aug 31 12:44pm PDT
Golfer's swing sparks 25-acre California blaze
By Jay Busbee
Follow Jay Busbee on Twitter at @jaybusbee.
You can use a golf club for all kinds of non-golfy purposes -- walking stick, fishing rod, club, to name three. And now we can add to that list -- firestarter.
Over the weekend, a golfer's routine swing in the rough at the Shady Canyon Golf Course in Irvine, Calif., struck a rock. Not so different from the way you play, right? Only this time, the impact caused a spark, and the spark set off a blaze that eventually covered 25 acres, according to the Steven Buck, General Manager of Shady Canyon Golf Course, and required the efforts of 150 Orange County firefighters, writes the Associated Press.
Wow. And I felt bad the time I shanked a ball through the window of a house too close to the fairway. That was nothing compared to this!
The golfer's name is being withheld, which is probably for the best, and no charges are going to be filed. Fortunately, it all could have been much worse. As it was, the blaze required both helicopters and on-the-ground crews.
The conditions were ripe for a blaze, with dry brush from a recent heat wave just waiting for the right spark. Like, say, one caused by metal on rock.
And now, your turn. This is going to inspire a raft of bad Sportscenter-esque "When we say he set the course on fire, he really set the course on fire!" jokes. So let's get ahead of the curve. Best bad golf-and-fire-related pun in the comments wins a round of applause. Go!
Photo credit: Thanks to Zach Bates
I would just like to state my opinion that golf is a cult.
Thank you!
Mark A. Baker
Sponsor
Mark A. Baker
Sponsor
Ted
Gold Meritorious Patron
Gee, and I was going to say...give it time, let the relationship unfold and let her be the one to make any romantic (O.K. 2D) moves on you!!! That's the vibe I'm getting about her...:confused2:
If nothing else, it can be a great friendship and those are worth their weight in pearls!!!
Well, Ted...We disagree here, but not too seriously!
Ah, ha! The estrogen response!
You are right though, just not for the female reasoning. This practicing hypnotherapist needs to be in charge!
The Magic Thetan
Patron with Honors
FROM MY VIEW IT IS AS YOU SAY IT IS. You are all one hundred percent totally correct. You really are. To quote a guy who had some good things to say (From my point of view) even though he did a great job of being a total asshole at times "I haven't written much about considerations. If anyone is confused on the subject, it is because consideration is consideration and all things are a consideration of the consideration so that if you consider something which is considerable why -- you have considered it" Phoenix Lectures Chapter 5, Paragraph one. love johnny
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afaceinthecrowd
Gold Meritorious Patron
What I bought into and Why, Part 6
I have also posted this on the “LRH Thumbnail Sketch” thread although it appears to going dead. I’m doing that as I set out on this task due to dialogue there that stimulated me to tell some of this story and provide “context” as to “What I bought into and Why” re: Scn.
“Know this: that whatever situation you find yourself in, it is what is necessary for your development.” Edgar Cayce
“Truly, no thing in this world has kept my thoughts thus busy, as this my very own self, this mystery of me being alive, of me being one and being separated and isolated from all others, of me being Siddhartha! And there is no thing in this world I know less about than about me, about Siddhartha!” Hermann Hesse, “Siddhartha”
The vertigo went on for weeks and weeks, the ear ringing for months and months, the headaches for nearly a year. For months I had trouble concentrating, felt “detached” and disinterested in my life and life in general. It was two weeks before I was allowed to return to school and nearly 6 weeks before the Doctors said I could return to work. In early December the Doctors told me that, as far as they were concerned, my football "ticket" had been punched and was no longer valid...it was over. They thought although my symptoms were improving and would eventually subside, that the risk of permanent damage was high if I had another concussion, due to the fact that this was my 3rd concussion since I was 5 year old and this one was bad, real bad.
During this time, for reasons that are still inexplicable to me, I was taken effortlessly to intense interest in the world of Spiritualism and “Other Realities”. I began reading Edgar Cayce, Ernest Holmes, Buddhism, etc from what small selection there was in my “Tabernacle”, the local library. When I returned to school things were different—I was different. I was not interested in my classes, social scene or much of anything. In that first semester of my Senior year I went from my customary A’s and B’s to one “A” and the rest B’s and C’s. Outwardly, I "kept my chin up”; inwardly I was drifting, detached.
My Mother’s life was consumed with her budding “Church” and her reaction to my injury was that it “served my right”; that God was punishing my for my having “spurned” Jesus; that she hoped that I had “learned my lesson”.
My Father and Stepmother wanted me to spend part of the Christmas Break with them and I agreed to go there for a week. They (she) had a large, beautiful home in the hills overlooking the valley and town below. To me, it was a mansion (probably at least 6,000 sq ft), swimming pool, color TV’s, Stereo, expensive furniture, 4 car garage with two Cadillac’s and my Father’s new Bronco, the works. There was a cottage on the property (larger than the house I had grown up in, until my Mother added on) where an older couple lived that were the caretakers of the estate (maid, cook, gardener, maintenance, etc.) and they were very nice folks that I actually spent nearly as much with as my Father and Stepmother during that week.
My Stepmother had one child, a married daughter that was in Grad School at an Ivy League University. She also had 2 brothers that were married with families and lived in a small city about 100 miles away. Everyone was going to be there for Christmas so that I could meet my new “family”. My Sister had opted to spend Christmas with her boyfriend and our Mother and would spend the second week of Break with them. So, I was on my own with our new Stepsister, Aunts, Uncles and 5 step cousins, the oldest of which was 5 years younger than I.
I had never seen a house so resplendent for Christmas. Everything was beyond beyond. There were nearly more gifts under the tree for me than I had received at all my previous Christmases. I had been in a few fine homes of friends but this place was wealth and extravagance on display and I felt out of place and uncomfortable and, for some reason, embarrassed. Every meal was of the finest foods and preparation, served to a huge formal table with china, silver, linen and crystal. At every meal, as my Father sat at the head of the table, I thought how out of place he was…my Stepmother was the one that should be sitting there. Everywhere in masse, just for the taking whenever one pleased, were the things I had been raised without—chips, pastries, soft drinks, candies and snack goodies of all kinds and sorts. My bedroom was huge with a door opening onto the veranda, a color TV, fancy AM/FM radio, big closet and its’ own full bathroom. It took me days to get use to the softened water and learn how not to use so much soap that it took forever to rinse off. It all made me feel like Mark Twains’ character Tom Canty (the pauper in, “The Prince and the Pauper); this was not where I belonged.
Over that week I gradually sensed a “theme” developing that was to become fully manifest on my last day there. My Father had spent much of his time during the days leading up to Christmas busy with the business of setting up his new operation that my Stepmother’s money was bankrolling for him. I spent time with my Stepmother, helping the caretaker and, once my new “Uncles” arrived, going on some outings with them. They were nice fellows and sportsmen so we had something in common, however, they were also “Born Again’s” and true to all that ilk, must “Witness” at every opportunity and, if there is no apparent opportunity, they must invent one. The conversations also were increasingly coming around to, “How much your Dad loves you,” and “your Dad really wants you to come and live with him,” and how my Mother was responsible for the divorce and how much she had mistreated my Father and was mistreating me. During the time I spent with my Stepmother it was the same litany and it became obvious to me I was being “worked” and “tooled” in a team effort. I decided to remain demure, let all this pass and return to my “world” when the week was over. But, alas, old habits are hard to break and on my last day there my Father pushed on me until I pushed back.
After lunch my Father and Stepmother “laid their cards on the table”. They thought I was a very bright young man with tremendous potential but I had been “twisted and duped” by my mother; that they would pay for all of my college and provide a wonderful home for me and a ”true” Christian family to be part of ; that all I had to do to get these “goodies” was to agree to cooperate with my Father’s attorney to go to court and amend the “Final Decree” for my Father to have custody of me and remove the “Child Support Order”; move in with them and go to the small State University near where they lived for two years and then, if I wanted to, go to a “Big Name” school after that; that they’d bankroll everything, including a new car. I was so unnerved by the callousness of their “offer” that my mind shut down, the pit of my stomach churned and all I could say was, “I’ll think about it…I need to get going.”
As I packed my car with all the expensive gifts—boots, watch, sport coat, on and on—my mind came back on-line and I thought about my two older Brothers and Sister. My oldest Brother was married, had 2 children, was working 2 jobs and going part-time to finish college. My other Brother was married, had 1 child, was working full time and going part time to Grad school. My Sister was living at home with my Mother, working part time and going to college. All of them were bright, all of them were good, decent, hardworking, determined people with great potential. The more I thought about them, the pissed and more pissed I got. When I went in to say goodbye, my Father and Stepmother were “stewing”, still “on point”. Obviously my response had been unacceptable.
My Father started in sternly and reproaching, as was his way, that I was not “thinking straight”, that my mind had been “twisted” by my Mother and that they knew what was best for me. I responded that maybe so, maybe I wasn’t “thinking straight” but that until my Brothers and Sister were offered assistance—with no strings attached—I wouldn’t consider discussing any of this further. He Laughed at me and chided that that was none of my business and I was too young and confused to understand what was going on.
I thanked them for the wonderful hospitality and gifts, told my Father I loved him, went to hug him and he flinched, arms frozen to his side. I walked out of that house and it would be 12 years—at the funeral for my oldest Brother's son—before I spoke to or saw my Father again.
One year later, almost to the day, I would take my first step on “The Bridge to Total Freedom”.
Face
PS: My Brothers and Sister are as fine of folks as have ever drawn breath and have lead exemplary lives of accomplishment, humanity and humility with earned and deserved respect. I am so proud of them, so honored to be their “Baby Brother”. We all share a bond that is singular, unique, deep and eternal.
I have also posted this on the “LRH Thumbnail Sketch” thread although it appears to going dead. I’m doing that as I set out on this task due to dialogue there that stimulated me to tell some of this story and provide “context” as to “What I bought into and Why” re: Scn.
“Know this: that whatever situation you find yourself in, it is what is necessary for your development.” Edgar Cayce
“Truly, no thing in this world has kept my thoughts thus busy, as this my very own self, this mystery of me being alive, of me being one and being separated and isolated from all others, of me being Siddhartha! And there is no thing in this world I know less about than about me, about Siddhartha!” Hermann Hesse, “Siddhartha”
The vertigo went on for weeks and weeks, the ear ringing for months and months, the headaches for nearly a year. For months I had trouble concentrating, felt “detached” and disinterested in my life and life in general. It was two weeks before I was allowed to return to school and nearly 6 weeks before the Doctors said I could return to work. In early December the Doctors told me that, as far as they were concerned, my football "ticket" had been punched and was no longer valid...it was over. They thought although my symptoms were improving and would eventually subside, that the risk of permanent damage was high if I had another concussion, due to the fact that this was my 3rd concussion since I was 5 year old and this one was bad, real bad.
During this time, for reasons that are still inexplicable to me, I was taken effortlessly to intense interest in the world of Spiritualism and “Other Realities”. I began reading Edgar Cayce, Ernest Holmes, Buddhism, etc from what small selection there was in my “Tabernacle”, the local library. When I returned to school things were different—I was different. I was not interested in my classes, social scene or much of anything. In that first semester of my Senior year I went from my customary A’s and B’s to one “A” and the rest B’s and C’s. Outwardly, I "kept my chin up”; inwardly I was drifting, detached.
My Mother’s life was consumed with her budding “Church” and her reaction to my injury was that it “served my right”; that God was punishing my for my having “spurned” Jesus; that she hoped that I had “learned my lesson”.
My Father and Stepmother wanted me to spend part of the Christmas Break with them and I agreed to go there for a week. They (she) had a large, beautiful home in the hills overlooking the valley and town below. To me, it was a mansion (probably at least 6,000 sq ft), swimming pool, color TV’s, Stereo, expensive furniture, 4 car garage with two Cadillac’s and my Father’s new Bronco, the works. There was a cottage on the property (larger than the house I had grown up in, until my Mother added on) where an older couple lived that were the caretakers of the estate (maid, cook, gardener, maintenance, etc.) and they were very nice folks that I actually spent nearly as much with as my Father and Stepmother during that week.
My Stepmother had one child, a married daughter that was in Grad School at an Ivy League University. She also had 2 brothers that were married with families and lived in a small city about 100 miles away. Everyone was going to be there for Christmas so that I could meet my new “family”. My Sister had opted to spend Christmas with her boyfriend and our Mother and would spend the second week of Break with them. So, I was on my own with our new Stepsister, Aunts, Uncles and 5 step cousins, the oldest of which was 5 years younger than I.
I had never seen a house so resplendent for Christmas. Everything was beyond beyond. There were nearly more gifts under the tree for me than I had received at all my previous Christmases. I had been in a few fine homes of friends but this place was wealth and extravagance on display and I felt out of place and uncomfortable and, for some reason, embarrassed. Every meal was of the finest foods and preparation, served to a huge formal table with china, silver, linen and crystal. At every meal, as my Father sat at the head of the table, I thought how out of place he was…my Stepmother was the one that should be sitting there. Everywhere in masse, just for the taking whenever one pleased, were the things I had been raised without—chips, pastries, soft drinks, candies and snack goodies of all kinds and sorts. My bedroom was huge with a door opening onto the veranda, a color TV, fancy AM/FM radio, big closet and its’ own full bathroom. It took me days to get use to the softened water and learn how not to use so much soap that it took forever to rinse off. It all made me feel like Mark Twains’ character Tom Canty (the pauper in, “The Prince and the Pauper); this was not where I belonged.
Over that week I gradually sensed a “theme” developing that was to become fully manifest on my last day there. My Father had spent much of his time during the days leading up to Christmas busy with the business of setting up his new operation that my Stepmother’s money was bankrolling for him. I spent time with my Stepmother, helping the caretaker and, once my new “Uncles” arrived, going on some outings with them. They were nice fellows and sportsmen so we had something in common, however, they were also “Born Again’s” and true to all that ilk, must “Witness” at every opportunity and, if there is no apparent opportunity, they must invent one. The conversations also were increasingly coming around to, “How much your Dad loves you,” and “your Dad really wants you to come and live with him,” and how my Mother was responsible for the divorce and how much she had mistreated my Father and was mistreating me. During the time I spent with my Stepmother it was the same litany and it became obvious to me I was being “worked” and “tooled” in a team effort. I decided to remain demure, let all this pass and return to my “world” when the week was over. But, alas, old habits are hard to break and on my last day there my Father pushed on me until I pushed back.
After lunch my Father and Stepmother “laid their cards on the table”. They thought I was a very bright young man with tremendous potential but I had been “twisted and duped” by my mother; that they would pay for all of my college and provide a wonderful home for me and a ”true” Christian family to be part of ; that all I had to do to get these “goodies” was to agree to cooperate with my Father’s attorney to go to court and amend the “Final Decree” for my Father to have custody of me and remove the “Child Support Order”; move in with them and go to the small State University near where they lived for two years and then, if I wanted to, go to a “Big Name” school after that; that they’d bankroll everything, including a new car. I was so unnerved by the callousness of their “offer” that my mind shut down, the pit of my stomach churned and all I could say was, “I’ll think about it…I need to get going.”
As I packed my car with all the expensive gifts—boots, watch, sport coat, on and on—my mind came back on-line and I thought about my two older Brothers and Sister. My oldest Brother was married, had 2 children, was working 2 jobs and going part-time to finish college. My other Brother was married, had 1 child, was working full time and going part time to Grad school. My Sister was living at home with my Mother, working part time and going to college. All of them were bright, all of them were good, decent, hardworking, determined people with great potential. The more I thought about them, the pissed and more pissed I got. When I went in to say goodbye, my Father and Stepmother were “stewing”, still “on point”. Obviously my response had been unacceptable.
My Father started in sternly and reproaching, as was his way, that I was not “thinking straight”, that my mind had been “twisted” by my Mother and that they knew what was best for me. I responded that maybe so, maybe I wasn’t “thinking straight” but that until my Brothers and Sister were offered assistance—with no strings attached—I wouldn’t consider discussing any of this further. He Laughed at me and chided that that was none of my business and I was too young and confused to understand what was going on.
I thanked them for the wonderful hospitality and gifts, told my Father I loved him, went to hug him and he flinched, arms frozen to his side. I walked out of that house and it would be 12 years—at the funeral for my oldest Brother's son—before I spoke to or saw my Father again.
One year later, almost to the day, I would take my first step on “The Bridge to Total Freedom”.
Face
PS: My Brothers and Sister are as fine of folks as have ever drawn breath and have lead exemplary lives of accomplishment, humanity and humility with earned and deserved respect. I am so proud of them, so honored to be their “Baby Brother”. We all share a bond that is singular, unique, deep and eternal.
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The Magic Thetan
Patron with Honors
Special to Johnny:
I'm with you on giving the Italian salute to all the misery and "crap" in our lives!!!
I say, here's to experiencing more Joy!!! I know this is why we're here! (Well, that and hooking Lakey up with some of his old friends/old flames!)
Thank you Veda, for the lovely quotes on reincarnation...they all resonate greatly with me! I've always loved Walt Whitman's especially, given the misery he witnessed!
Big hugs to all, busy, busy being a helper today...will get more caught up later. Big hugs and Much Love to all!
Yes here's to more joy, and I would also like your vision that I too will soon have a new love to love. All I am looking for is total satisfaction for both of us, the ongoing feeling that it cound not possibly get any better, and then it gets better.
The Magic Thetan
Patron with Honors
Can you help me find someone?
Her name is Linda, and I knew her back in 1978, long before I met Carolyn. We met after I gave a talk at the Erie Pennsylvania mission or org. She married a guy named Ray back then and I lost track of her, and somehow I am having trouble recalling her last name, for she was just Linda to me. So if you know her, or anyone who was at the Erie PA org at the time who might have known her, please let me know. I don't know if the org or mission is still there or not. I tried to get a phone number and could find no listing. So if you can assist, I would appreciate it. Love john
Her name is Linda, and I knew her back in 1978, long before I met Carolyn. We met after I gave a talk at the Erie Pennsylvania mission or org. She married a guy named Ray back then and I lost track of her, and somehow I am having trouble recalling her last name, for she was just Linda to me. So if you know her, or anyone who was at the Erie PA org at the time who might have known her, please let me know. I don't know if the org or mission is still there or not. I tried to get a phone number and could find no listing. So if you can assist, I would appreciate it. Love john
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