*This is not about the Sex Pistols song of same subject name!
Recently I went to the UK for work and visited Liphook and Hankley Common. I can digress and go into my thoughts on those courses but that is not the object of this humble ditty.
While at Heathrow on my way home, I happen to have a little problem as I set off the detectors for bomb making materials. Not privy to the secrets of how to make a pipe bomb and not angry at anyone enough in the world enough to strike revenge with an incendiary device (although I have thought about testing the theory of 72 virgins by taking out the evil monkey man professor Dr. Childs), I was quite shocked at being culled aside like a baboon that stole fruit and asked questions by 5 members of the UK's finest.
Now even though I am an atheist, I did find myself praying for Darwin's god to save me as the blokes were having nothing of the evolution of my story which was: Hey I was playing golf, they fertilized the course with well um fertilizer and here ya go, I set off the bomb detectors. The fact that my Yale Golf Hat and golf shoes were the main culprits in this did nothing to assuage these "chaps". Maybe they thought I was "too American" which is a common quip amongst the Brits now. I don't take kindly to it even though I have a salty sense of humour although not as good as JakaB's or Rich Goodale's.
I digress, lets move on here and hole out. So, after 30 minutes of questions, who do I work for, why do I come to the UK so much, why should Deal host another open, we finished up with me SIGNING some documents akin to saying if I ever got in trouble in the UK again, I could be banned from the country.
Well I guess this is a way for them to ban me from playing my favourite courses in the world, I just wish they would have done the same with Paul Turner there to defend my good honour.
So I get home to JFK.. The shakedown, body cavity search etc all just memories.. But my bags, ah.... no joy.. On the next flight they assure me that comes in at midnight.. Sure, matey, sure.. Flight comes in, no joy... Here tommorrow morning they assurred me--alas BA does stand for bloody awful. Ah no.. 3 days later and looking like an elephant trampled my business suits and suitcase (luckily it was a Samsonite and didnt they do a commercial with an elephant) my bag has made it back.
And the UK is safe from NAF!