Everybody's an expert.
I'm fascinated by the missing Malaysia Flight 370. It's not a morbid fascination. It's about how does this happen? A full flight, a Boeing 777, takes off, the instruments go silent, and the plane is not seen again. My golf teacher, Woody, and I were discussing this last week, in between him giving me pointers about keeping my right arm next to my body while I take the club back, keeping my head still while watching the ball, bending my knees and not straightening them while in the backswing, twisting my upper torso while keeping my bent legs over the ball, leading with the club handle while I bring the club towards the ball, and then let-her-rip! Um, yeah...no. I think about his instructions. How does anybody play golf? It takes a lot of guts to go out on a golf course. Me, you, them. We're all together now. Mostly strangers. How am I gonna hit the ball? What if I miss the ball? What if it goes way off course? No wonder I like to play alone, la