Friday Afternoon

I am sitting on the sofa beside Bill.

I just said to him, "Bill. Let's write a blog."

(You can see that I don't take defeat as easily as I should.)

ME: (I read the above three lines to Bill.) Okay, Bill, that's as far as I've gotten with today's blog. What should I say next?

Bill: I think the Noodle Plus Easy Distance golf ball would be a good choice for a slow swinger like myself. Here's a picture of the box. (He shows me a picture of a navy blue and gray and chartreuse box of golf balls on his computer screen.)

Me: No, Bill. That is not a blog entry.

Bill: Try this then. The Cobra Baffler Rail F Fairway Wood.

Me: Uh-huh. What about it?

Bill: I think that five wood has my name written alllllll over it.

(Voice from hallway) Bill's Mother-In-Law (Remember the old song called "Mother in Law"? Yeah. THAT kind of mother-in-law)(eavesdropping): For G-d's sake, tell me you are NOT talking about buying yet another golf club!!! Do you realize you have a FORTUNE in golf equipment downstairs that you never even use!?!? (Mother in law continues past the room and out into the backyard on a mission to locate dog poop that Bill and I, worthless slackers that we are, have failed to pick up today.)

Bill (to readers): As you can see, there is paltry material for blog entries just now, but here was a slice of our life, and welcome to it. Blessings to all.

Beth: (whispering aside to readers) There is a heartening kind of optimism that shines through when a cancer patient starts talking about all the new golf equipment he is pretty sure he needs for the upcoming season.

Golf clubs: expensive.

Cowboy optimism: priceless.