First off, Getka is not allowed to respond to this post as he is one of those annoying tea totalers who smugly look down on those of us with a history of getting totaled on the tee.
Getka, you admitted - in my kitchen - to a few prior indiscretions with fermented grapes; but having been dry as an Open fairway for years automatically disqualifies you from inclusion on the is thread, so leave immediately or I will be forced to slip some Everclear in your next Shirley Temple.
Actually, in truth, my Foster Brooks days are long past - and although I could still roll a doobie with admirable dexterity, that damned Stair Master took care of that habit years ago . . . . . But I refuse to cut the cord completely, though chasing around a house full of kids has made the wine cabinet the least visited spot in the house.
There is no point in extrapolating on the Pebble Beach Champagne story except to admit I married the leggy redhead in question 25 years later . . . . . maybe that was the hook and it just took two and a half decades to reel me in . . . . . .
Speaking of, I would like to amend my previous responses and select the 18th at Kapalua Plantation. The only condition is that the chair I pull up is at the corner table of the Plantation House, above the approach area of the fairway.
For those who have been there, the putting surface is contoured as a screaming Redan; the fun is watching all the tourists hit what they believe is a perfect shot, only to watch it wander far away from the pin.
As a matter of fact, I think the Redhead and I have done that at least twenty times. . . . .
P.S. I had to Google the phrase "tea totaler" as I had no idea how it was spelled . . . . . never gave the term any thought before.
