Three Quickies

-Last week I wrote about my new GPS and how I was still getting used to the personality of it. Much like a couple of cops in an 80s action/buddy film, we're compromising nicely - I'm learning to live with its quirks, such as saying "R-T" instead of "Route", but also appreciate that it I found the button which makes it stop telling me when it has to recalculate and makes it just recalculate in silence. The thing I wasn't ready for is the discovery that my GPS is vengeful. Yesterday I was trying to find a golf course that I hadn't played in almost four years. Now, I'm pretty good with directions and if I drive somewhere once I will usually be able to get back there. But, it had been almost four years so while I could remember which exit I took off the highway, I couldn't remember when I needed to take the turn after that. I thought I could trust my GPS, but after I ignored it's first three suggestions for which exit to take (I wanted the more highway, so faster but less-direct option) apparently it was no longer in the mood to be helpful. So, when I got off at the exit I remembered from my last trip I was subsequently sent on the most roundabout trip imaginable.

I got the sinking feeling that I was being guided in the wrong direction pretty early. Nothing looked familiar and the neighborhood had quickly shifted from the suburbs to more concrete and less green. If there was a golf course in the area it was going to pop up out of nowhere. My suspicions were confirmed as I went from being in the town where my destination is located to nearly being guided onto the Mass Pike. Now, I found my destination eventually, but not without ignoring a few more suggested turns from my GPS. Of course, I didn't realize just how off I was until I got home and double-checked my route. Turns out that had I just stayed on the same road I was on right after I got off the highway for a few more miles I would have been at the course much faster. Again, it wasn't the shortest route in terms of distance, but it had the fewest amount of turns. Now, I'm sure there is a way to adjust this in the settings and I need to figure it out soon. I also really hope my GPS doesn't plan to try and out-stubborn me, because I'm not the one who shuts off as soon as I get unplugged.

-The golf course I was hunting for was Newton Commonwealth. I picked it because, frankly, it was the only course in the area I was certain was open. Even though I know Little Harbor, my country club on the Cape which is neither a country club nor on the Cape, is open year-round, I didn't want to drive the hour in either direction to golf there. Now, for those of you who may be thinking about checking out Newton Commonwealth you should know the course is currently undergoing some renovations for next golf season. Other than a couple of closed tee boxes there is no big disruption. In fact, teeing off presented the only problems I had all day, because the ground was so frozen and hard that I couldn't put a tee into it. My options were to either tee off way too high or hit right off the ground. Now, a smarter (or at least more easily-deterred) man would take that as a sign that golfing in February in Massachusetts is bad idea. Me? I just teed it extra high. After all, if you are going to let a little cold weather beat you I suggest you move.

-The funny thing about Newton Commonwealth is that is essentially built into the side of a very steep hill. Some of the holes just go up and up and up. One of those is the very long par-5, 5th hole. Now, this was one of those holes where I miraculously put two good shots together back-to-back and could go for the green in regulation. Unfortunately, my third shot came up a little short and appeared to come to rest next to a tree on the side of the green. It was a good thing too, because this was an elevated green with severe sloping on either side. Walking up I was convinced my ball was against the tree. But as I approached I notice a ball in the sand trap next to the green, about 8 feet below the hole. I was kind of bummed, because I had been in the sand all afternoon. However, as I got closer I got new life when I noticed the ball in the sand was not my ball at all, but a random ball someone just left there. I went back up to to the tree to look for my ball. When I finally found it, I discovered it had indeed rolled back down... passed the bunker and to the bottom of the hill, a full 30 feet below the hole. You know, sometimes the outcome we were hoping against is actually the best thing for us. (Maybe that should have been Life Lesson #32?)