Junk

The junk exorcism continues at Casa Sneed. Today Son Sneed and I attacked the garage. This is a picture of my truck loaded with crap that was clogging up the garage. We found a lot of weird stuff.

There were about twenty-five half-filled gallons of paint . I'm pretty sure that the walls they once adorned have been painted over, so it is off to the hazardous materials dump for them. It was just full of useless stuff. Lest you think it was a total pig sty, let me assure you that two cars were able to fit in the garage. Decluttering feels so good.

I went to play golf this morning and the starter joined me up with three old guys. I recognized one guy, he bowled in a league with me several years ago, but he didn't remember me.

These three guys play together on a regular basis. They have an interesting dynamic going. Two of them are afraid of the third one. This fellow named Joe has the other guys frightened. He is sort of a bully.

The starter sent me over to join these guys. As I was introducing myself to the guy from bowling, he shushed me. I could see some panic in his eyes, but I didn't know why. He quickly explained that Joe doesn't allow any noise when he is hitting. And by any noise, I mean any noise. The golf course in under the flight path of a busy Air Force base, but this dumb ass is worried about a whispered conversation. This is about power, not sensitivity to distraction.

The third guy took me aside and whispered conspiratorially that Joe is easily bothered and it would be good to give him a wide berth. I rolled my eyes at him and he nodded knowingly.

At the next hole, Joe was preparing to hit his drive and I was standing quietly, as ordered, when he abruptly turned to me and said that he didn't want anyone standing behind him when he hit. I wasn't directly behind him and unless he has eyes in the back of his head, I don't see how my position could affect him. I told him that I was sorry and that I didn't get a copy of the rules.

I asked the guy from bowling if he played with this knucklehead all the time and he said yes. When I asked him why and he said no one else will. You think?

God bless these two guys for having the patience to play with such a buffoon. My life's too short to deal with it, so should I ever see them again, I will pass on being their fourth.






Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky