My girlfriend and I went out to play golf and I learned something. She doesn’t understand me.

“Aim a little more left.” I suggested.

She listened and aimed left. Good hit, not great but she’s learning, down the left side of the fairway and a little short. I’m pleased. She’s pissed. “I aimed left like you said!”

Instead of reacting to how she said it, I asked, “What did you hear me say? I meant aim to the left of the flag, because of the way the green sloped.”

The back and forth revealed we speak two different languages. I say one thing she hears something completely different. It made me rethink every conversation we have ever had. I’m fairly taciturn and blunt, assuming everyone understands me and appreciates me not wasting words with lengthy explanations. It sounds condescending, mansplaining.

I can’t think and speak the way other people do. It’s unrealistic to expect others to adapt to their way of thinking and speaking. I don’t care if someone misinterprets what I say because they have adopted a new or radical understanding of a word. That’s your problem. Feel free to be insulted. If you don’t want to understand, I feel no obligation to console you or change to accommodate you.

But I’m trying to be a better boyfriend and I do care if she understands me. I started asking questions and building a new vocabulary. There was a lot of back and forth with me trying to expand on what my words meant and trying to understand what words she would understand. The whole communication loop on repeat.

Her golf game didn’t get any better, but our communication did.

Daily writing prompt

What notable things happened today?

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Old, smokey, just a touch of sweet from a sherry cask and tint of red, caramel and fire sliding down the back of my throat. Let’s put on British airs and insist on Speyside. Only barbarians insist on ice or watering down the flavor. Of course, a class of spring water, to cleanse the pallet between sips. Sipping is the only way to savor the bouquet exploding across your tongue. If you must, just a few drops of water to cut the alcohol. If you can, skip the 12-year-old., even the sherry cask is a little rough but tolerable if starved for choices. This isn’t shooting Taquila and trying to hide the flavor with salt and lime or margaritas with the girls. This is Scotch.

My personal vise is The Macallan. I’ve been drinking it for thirty years, well before it became popular. It was my first experience with whiskey that left me breathless rather that gasping for breath. For years Cutty Sark and Chevas Regal passed for a decent drink. Then in London, at an Irish Pub no less, a bottle caught my eye. The words said. The lingering taste on my lips. There is no going back.

This advice not intended for children or people serious about saving money and paying their bills. Drinking good whiskey can become habit forming and involve equally expensive cigars and expensive collections of both. Following my advice, in general is a very bad idea. If you find yourself saying phrases like, “Hey, guys! Watch this!” or “I bet I can do that.” seek help immediately.

Daily writing prompt

What’s the one luxury you can’t live without?

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I’m not sure if it should be something like “Do not disturb” or “Approach with caution”. Both were appropriate for a long time. Add, only open in times of war, dangerous content, not appropriate for children, contains content and images that may be disturbing. For a long time, I just radiated violence like a warning tag. DON’T POKE THE BEAR! I was a little hurt and sometimes shocked by how people reacted to me.

I’m a nice guy. Really, in spite of everything I say about myself, I love little kids and old people and never seem to have a hard time approaching them. I’d pull up to the playground and flag down a water ice truck and treat everyone and just drive away. I’d get complaints because I blocked and intersection and helped an old lady with her groceries cross the street. I tried not to hurt people and do good where I could.

I guess my tag line needs to be both, nice and dangerous. I will give you the shirt off of my back if you need it, just don’t try to take it.

Daily writing prompt

If humans had taglines, what would yours be?

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If you count who occupies the same space as me, it is a toss-up between my significant other and my sister. I don’t speak to my sister that much, but when I do, we have great conversations. My Sig-other, we spend a lot of time together doing things more than having deep conversations. Home repair, golf, motorcycle rides, and cooking are all regular stuff but we don’t interact very much. Sleeping doesn’t count either.

If I’m honest, I have more conversation over three to five hours of golf with strangers than people I live with. Most of it isn’t very personal, just talk and the occasional joke. Really, if you can’t laugh about golf, you shouldn’t play.

I wonder if the voices in my head count. They always have such interesting ideas and comments. I’ve learned not to repeat them in public because that would be insane. Right? Not you. I was talking to them. Ok, I was writing to them, nitpicker. Yes. You’re crazy, not me. Now just shut up. I forgot what I was writing about.

Daily writing prompt

Who do you spend the most time with?

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I get called a lot of things that aren’t my given name. Is it really necessary to pick something else and try to fit into it. I have a friend whose given name is Mylord, didn’t make him rich. A friend from the Army says he knows where he is by what people call him, variations on a theme as it were.

Me, I use my name to know if I’m talking to friends or enemies. Sometimes it gets confusing. People at work called me crazy a lot, I earned that one. I shouldn’t repeat what my exes call me. It’s not nice and this might be read by children. I was known as Heathen in a couple of groups. Most of my life I was addressed by my surname or Sergeant. The truth is that I’ve earned all of them, one way or another.

I guess the strangest was when my father called me sonofabitch or bastard. Did Mom know? Was he trying to tell me I wasn’t part of the family? Childhood was a little confusing.

I’ll just stick with what I was given and make the best of it.

Daily writing prompt

If you had to change your name, what would your new name be?

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It sounds arrogant, no surprise coming from me, I’m not afraid of anything that I can point to. There is even a lack of understanding of fear itself. Personally, I believe it comes from coming close to death to many times to care anymore. I know I can die. It will happen one day, probably proceeded by me saying something stupid like, “Hey, guys! Watch this!”

Lack of fear has earned me some strangely fitting nicknames, Crazy Bob, Stupid, Terminator (I don’t get that one) and some less flattering monikers. It has caused some friction where I did something that scared those around me for no reason I could understand. Disbelief in something that I can do or have done, until I prove it and scare someone else.

You see, I love the feeling of flying, falling, swimming deeper, exploring, driving fast, living on the edge or stepping off the edge, even. I’m not afraid, but I feel alive, thrilled by the experience. If you have never done it, find something that makes your heart race, embrace it, make it as safe as you can or take off all the protection and leap! Just once embrace what you were afraid of, don’t try to overcome it, accept it and everything it represents.

Daily writing prompt

What fears have you overcome and how?

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The answer to both questions today is the same. When I feel like I’m not getting anywhere or my brain is stuck in a rut, it’s time to unplug. I’m on the road to nowhere and scrolling for directions. I distract my brain with fluff, so I feel like I’m doing something, anything.

When I need to reconnect, I get on a road to nowhere. I go road hunting, trying to get lost without a map. Wake up in the morning, crank up the bike and ride all day. Usually, I’ll stop at some side of the road restaurant for a late lunch. My mind is clear and somewhere along the way, I’ve found my way. I hope that everyone has their own road to nowhere, even if we don’t get there the same way.

Daily writing prompt

How do you know when it’s time to unplug? What do you do to make it happen?

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I guess it comes from a lack of tolerance for poor arguments or lack of understanding of the subject, but I like to stir the pot. Especially when people parrot talking points without doing the research to support their arguments. I’ve been accused of everything except having a right to my opinion to losing my humanity. The names I’m addressed by are attempts to insult or intimidate me. It’s simpler than that, I don’t care.

Lately it is about the upcoming elections and associated topics. Abortion, gun control, freedom of speech or religion, tolerance and accepting disturbed people claiming absolute authority to change language to suit themselves. I don’t have to respect you or your beliefs. You don’t have to respect mine. Just don’t expect me to bow to your alter of wokeness or victimhood.

My sole outlet is to post my opinion and attack weak arguments with logic and facts. I hope that somewhere, I’ve at least made people think about what they believe and why. I don’t even expect to change minds, just make people think.

Besides, it’s fun.

Daily writing prompt

Describe one simple thing you do that brings joy to your life.

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If you follow my religion, you are a purist, outdoors in nature. Though some have taken to worship inside, using modern technology and simulators. As a group, we endure the novice, who wander the fairways in search of their lost ball. Those who only practice on special days or holidays. They lack dedication or are overcome by the mundane world of family or work.

It is simple. Break it down to the basics of The Drive, the Approach and the Putt. Everyone has a different ritual for each step, but it comes down to focus and repetitive acts. What it teaches each of us is patience, moderation of force and inner peace. Each step bringing you closer to your goal. If you miss your target, you have to take you next swing from where you are, not where you want to be. The final shot is precise, distance, speed, looking for every variation before you. Good life lessons there.

When I started playing golf, I tried to hit the ball as hard as I could and hoped. As I grew to understand the goal of the game, I became more concerned about the outcome over the flash of an impressive shot. Repeating the mantra, “Slow down. Shorten up the back swing”, I came closer to my goal. Not perfection, just better than I was last time.

I am religious about golf since I retired, in a secular sense, trying to find that quiet place in myself. It’s something that I’ve done throughout my life when I was trying to find my feet. I was working my way through PTSD or divorce, turbulent changes worked out while I was concentrating on a sport.

Daily writing prompt

Do you practice religion?

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