As I explained in the last post, I was brought up on a golf course. My dad started me on the game when I was about 6. He's a mechanical engineer, and a very intelligent and curious man. He loves to learn everything at an atomic level. As such, when he learned to golf, he took lessons and made sure he knew exactly what to do in every situation: how to place his feet, how to open or close the club face, etc.
He did his best to impart this knowledge to me. I retained some, but lost a lot.
So yesterday I went golfing with him for the first time since I was in my twenties. He was golfing for the first time in 15+ years. As is the tradition at our golf resort, we didn't technically keep score. But I watched him and guestimated his score.
And I was damned impressed.
Many guys my age use these huge, balloon-sized drivers so that they can swing really hard and still hit the ball straight. I've never used one, partly because I can't generate a lot of club-head speed (due to some past surgeries), and partly because I think that it's kind of cheating. Be that as it may, my father hits a low-profile driver, smaller than my own, I think.
I have 36 years on this man. I've been golfing during the last 15 years. But I only out-drove him over 9 holes by an average of about 5 yards. WTF. And he hit it at least as straight as I did. This guy was on fire, and right out of the chute after a decade-plus-long absence from the game. Watching him hit was frankly amazing. He putted me straight into the ground
I used to chafe at his constant attempts to correct my swing. Now I'm thinking I should hire him as an instuctor.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Reliving a Bit of my Childhood
I've recently been waxing a bit nostalgic for the summers of my childhood. This has been brought about, in part, by a blog called Free Range Kids, which I stumbled across, though I've forgotten how. Basically, it advocates giving your kids some free rein, rather than riding herd on them 24-7 the way so many people do these days. This is something I've thought about quite often in the last 2 decades, as I saw those around me placing their children in more structured, restricted environments than I had to deal with as a child. Then again, few children even when I was young had the opportunities to run at will that my siblings and I had.
My sisters and I grew up on the western edge of Milwaukee, near its border with Wauwatosa. Our parents also rented a summer cottage near a town called Eagle, about 45 minutes away. The cottage was a grand, musty behemoth drowsing between a run-down golf course and a beautiful, if somewhat weedy, spring-fed lake. Three other families rented it with ours, and each had at least 2 children in our age range. Total, there were 11 kids in our cottage, and another half-dozen in the neighboring cottages.
The Old Cottage
When in town, we roamed the neighborhood much like most children of that time were allowed to do. No one obsessed over abductions and other such slim dangers: we didn't have a sensationalist media shoving that stuff in our faces every evening. We regularly rode our bikes to the local dime store or the community pool. We checked in every few hours, but as long as our parents knew our general whereabouts, were relatively unsupervised.
When we were at the cottage, however, we were really free. We woke up in the morning, ate breakfast, and then disappeared. Sometimes up onto the derelict links to run, sometimes into the woods to build forts and slay dragons. The only restriction on us was that we couldn't go in the lake without an adult present. We came back when we were hungry, when we got a scraped knee, or to get a parent to take us swimming.
By the time I was 13, the cottage had gotten too small for us: 19 in a 5 bedroom house only works when lots of the people are small. So we relinquished our rental. The other 3 families continued to rent at other cottages at the resort, but my family decided to take an annual summer vacation instead. That was 27 years ago.
Recently, my younger sisters started renting there again, and this year I am, too. I went out to meet the landlady and check out the place Monday. It was bittersweet. A lot was as I remember it: The musty smell of the cottages, the old clubhouse with the trunk of a tree growing right up out of the middle of the great-room floor and into the ceiling, the spring house where we used to get our drinking water (the tap water was awful). But so much had changed: the road into the resort has been paved, taking away a bit of the going-back-in-time feel you used to have upon getting there. The clubhouse tree, which was still alive when I was young, has now been cut off at ceiling level and the roof hole closed: only the trunk remains, for tradition's sake. The golf course has been rehabilitated, and gets far more traffic. And the spring house water is now non-potable, likely contaminated by gunk from area farms and developments.
What has not changed is the isolated, self-contained, communal atmosphere. Everybody knows everybody. People wander around and visit, like folks did in decades past: and the people you visit probably have an ice-cold pitcher of daiquiris made up and waiting for you. Everything slows down to a cheerful amble.
And the children get to run. Without helmets.
.
My sisters and I grew up on the western edge of Milwaukee, near its border with Wauwatosa. Our parents also rented a summer cottage near a town called Eagle, about 45 minutes away. The cottage was a grand, musty behemoth drowsing between a run-down golf course and a beautiful, if somewhat weedy, spring-fed lake. Three other families rented it with ours, and each had at least 2 children in our age range. Total, there were 11 kids in our cottage, and another half-dozen in the neighboring cottages.
The Old CottageWhen in town, we roamed the neighborhood much like most children of that time were allowed to do. No one obsessed over abductions and other such slim dangers: we didn't have a sensationalist media shoving that stuff in our faces every evening. We regularly rode our bikes to the local dime store or the community pool. We checked in every few hours, but as long as our parents knew our general whereabouts, were relatively unsupervised.
When we were at the cottage, however, we were really free. We woke up in the morning, ate breakfast, and then disappeared. Sometimes up onto the derelict links to run, sometimes into the woods to build forts and slay dragons. The only restriction on us was that we couldn't go in the lake without an adult present. We came back when we were hungry, when we got a scraped knee, or to get a parent to take us swimming.
By the time I was 13, the cottage had gotten too small for us: 19 in a 5 bedroom house only works when lots of the people are small. So we relinquished our rental. The other 3 families continued to rent at other cottages at the resort, but my family decided to take an annual summer vacation instead. That was 27 years ago.
Recently, my younger sisters started renting there again, and this year I am, too. I went out to meet the landlady and check out the place Monday. It was bittersweet. A lot was as I remember it: The musty smell of the cottages, the old clubhouse with the trunk of a tree growing right up out of the middle of the great-room floor and into the ceiling, the spring house where we used to get our drinking water (the tap water was awful). But so much had changed: the road into the resort has been paved, taking away a bit of the going-back-in-time feel you used to have upon getting there. The clubhouse tree, which was still alive when I was young, has now been cut off at ceiling level and the roof hole closed: only the trunk remains, for tradition's sake. The golf course has been rehabilitated, and gets far more traffic. And the spring house water is now non-potable, likely contaminated by gunk from area farms and developments.
What has not changed is the isolated, self-contained, communal atmosphere. Everybody knows everybody. People wander around and visit, like folks did in decades past: and the people you visit probably have an ice-cold pitcher of daiquiris made up and waiting for you. Everything slows down to a cheerful amble.
And the children get to run. Without helmets.
.
Megachurch Minister Caught in Molestation Sting
...and in other news, the sky is blue.
Rev Joe Barron borrowed his wife's car and drove 200 miles to meet what he thought was a thirteen year old girl. Instead, he was greeted by the police, who had been working a chat-room sting. Barron claimed he only wanted to buy the girl a soda. Funny, when I want to buy a soda, I generally don't even need 1 condom, much less 10.
I can't say that I'm surprised that another evangelical minister has been nabbed for the same deviance that he decried from the pulpit on Sundays. This sort of thing is all too commonly the result of the sexual repression that most religions demand of their followers (and their clerics: yes, I'm looking at you, Benedict).
Rev Joe Barron borrowed his wife's car and drove 200 miles to meet what he thought was a thirteen year old girl. Instead, he was greeted by the police, who had been working a chat-room sting. Barron claimed he only wanted to buy the girl a soda. Funny, when I want to buy a soda, I generally don't even need 1 condom, much less 10.
I can't say that I'm surprised that another evangelical minister has been nabbed for the same deviance that he decried from the pulpit on Sundays. This sort of thing is all too commonly the result of the sexual repression that most religions demand of their followers (and their clerics: yes, I'm looking at you, Benedict).
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Archbishop Dolan chimes in on Necedah Cult
Archbishop Timothy Dolan commented in his Sunday sermon on the Tammy Lewis case, in which Lewis and her "bishop", Alan Bushey, concealed the death of Magdeline Alvina Middlesworth for 2 months while they glommed on to her Social Security and annuity income. From the WTMJ website:
No, the Church has never done that.
Nothing to see here, folks: move along.
The District Attorney in Juneau County called the couple a cult. They're accused of using religion to commit fraud.Hmm. Taking advantage of someone's fear and credulity to avail yourself of their property. Promising immunity from death in exchange for prayer and financial support of the organization doing the promising.
Alan Bushey and Tammy Lewis allegedly kept the body of a 90-year-old woman sitting on the toilet for two months, claiming God would bring her back to life.
Archbishop Dolan says he isn't familiar with the group, but he was saddened to hear what they're accused of.
"That's not even religion, that's a terrible distortion and corruption of religion to even call that part of the patrimony and tradition of the church," Dolan said.
No, the Church has never done that.
Nothing to see here, folks: move along.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Body of Dead Woman Found in Inhabited Home
Necedah, WI - According to press reports, police found the body of a 90-year old woman sitting on the toilet in her bathroom, where it had apparently been since March 4th. Sad, but not shocking, one might think initially. People who live alone and have few friends or relatives to check on them occasionally pass away and are not missed for a while.
Except that she didn't live alone. There were 3 other people in the house, and at least one other who knew she was dead.
Would you be terribly surprised to find out that these are batshit crazy deeply religious people?
Apparently, Tammy Davis, who calls herself "Sister Mary Bernadette", moved in with the elderly woman, Magdeline Alvina Middlesworth, some time within the last 2 years. They both belong to a Christian cult called the Order of the Divine Will, presided over by Alan Bushey (pronounced boo-SHAY), who calls himself "Bishop John Peter Bushey". Along with Lewis came her 2 children, a son and daughter now 11 and 15, respectively.
Some time in early March, Middlesworth collapsed in Lewis' arms while Lewis was helping the woman dress. Lewis, rather than calling 911, propped her (still breathing at this point) up on the toilet and called Bushey. Bushey told Lewis that Middleworth was under attack by demons, and that he had received signs from God that praying would save her, even bring her back to life if she died. So Lewis not only failed to get Middlesworth emergency medical attention, she let the corpse sit there in the barthroom for 2 months and forced her children to pray over it.
A gruesome story, certainly: those poor kids are going to have some serious issues to work through in the coming years (on top of those incurred by growing up in a fundamentalist household to begin with). But as always, this seems only the first shoe. The children are quoted as saying the following:
I'm just waiting for the figures on how much they bilked this woman out of. You know it's coming. We've seen it before.
Except that she didn't live alone. There were 3 other people in the house, and at least one other who knew she was dead.
Would you be terribly surprised to find out that these are batshit crazy deeply religious people?
Apparently, Tammy Davis, who calls herself "Sister Mary Bernadette", moved in with the elderly woman, Magdeline Alvina Middlesworth, some time within the last 2 years. They both belong to a Christian cult called the Order of the Divine Will, presided over by Alan Bushey (pronounced boo-SHAY), who calls himself "Bishop John Peter Bushey". Along with Lewis came her 2 children, a son and daughter now 11 and 15, respectively.
Some time in early March, Middlesworth collapsed in Lewis' arms while Lewis was helping the woman dress. Lewis, rather than calling 911, propped her (still breathing at this point) up on the toilet and called Bushey. Bushey told Lewis that Middleworth was under attack by demons, and that he had received signs from God that praying would save her, even bring her back to life if she died. So Lewis not only failed to get Middlesworth emergency medical attention, she let the corpse sit there in the barthroom for 2 months and forced her children to pray over it.
A gruesome story, certainly: those poor kids are going to have some serious issues to work through in the coming years (on top of those incurred by growing up in a fundamentalist household to begin with). But as always, this seems only the first shoe. The children are quoted as saying the following:
Ah. So. Elderly lady pays the bills for younger religious crazies. Elderly lady dies. Religious crazies conceal the death from the authorities, justifying their actions through religious craziness. Religious crazies thereby keep the financial pipe open.He [Lewis' son] said Bushey told him that if Middlesworth's death was discovered, the children would have to go to public schools and they would all have to get jobs because Middlesworth paid the bills.
Lewis' daughter told authorities that Middlesworth was the provider for their "religious community."
I'm just waiting for the figures on how much they bilked this woman out of. You know it's coming. We've seen it before.
Today we are 40
Hippo birdie to meese.
Think I'll go with Sheryl Crow on this one: it's the "new 30"! Really!
Think I'll go with Sheryl Crow on this one: it's the "new 30"! Really!
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