"There was a poor farmer who used an old horse to till the fields and carry the wood. One day the horse escapes into the hills, and when the neighbours hear about it they sympathize with the old man over his bad luck. The farmer says, "Bad luck, good luck, who knows?" A week later, the horse comes back, followed by a whole herd of wild horses from the hills. So now the neighbours congratulate the farmer on his good luck, and he says, "Good luck, bad luck, who knows?" A week later, the farmer's only son is trying to tame one of the wild horses and he falls off and breaks his leg. Everyone comes by and complains about the bad luck, to which the farmer says "Bad luck, good luck, who knows?" A while later, the army marches into the village and conscripts every able-bodied youth they find there, but when the see the farmer's son with his broken leg, they let him off...."
Okay, I know: judging from his apparently limited vocabulary, the old man was a near idiot. And maybe the story might only work for, like, a super-good person or a Buddhist or something; no Italian-Catholic I know could've handled it without cursing-out somebody, maybe even a saint. But hey, maybe the guy was onto something...or at least someone on gca.com can find it. (Me, I think his long-term plan was getting access to some of the great classic courses, you know, the sympathy route. "Hey, you're getting to play Pine Valley, what good luck". "Good luck, bad luck, who knows")
Peter
Edit: After all, in Tom D's story, Ed Sneed DID make par (and it must've driven Irwin crazy!!)