Swingin'

Ahh, the zen-like tranquility of the course. The gentle murmur of the water as it cascades down the stones. The verdant breeze filled with honeysuckle. An iron club in my hand.

Yes, this Sunday found me enjoying the sunny weather playing miniature golf (because the "real" stuff with the carts and snobs can piss off).

Miniature golf makes me feel like a kid, even though I've played more of it as a young adult, and now an older adult, than I ever did as a child. While I don't pretend to be good at it, I still always have a good time playing.

It's rather a lot like billiards. While I understand the fundementals of the game, I lack the time to dedicate to practice and become proficient.

Miniature golf courses seem to be fading away in most places. They seem to only be able to maintain them down at the shore, and other tourist traps.

If anyone happens to know of a good, quality course around these parts, then let me know.

I received a report from my friend Doug. He let me know that a new course is nearly complete up in the Lancaster area. Since I tend to make semi-regular pilgrimages in that area (the outlets, and the Fuddruckers do call me so), we definitely plan on making a day of that in the near future.

Although I know the local forecast is a bit on the schitzo side this week; I would encourage everyone to go play a round of miniature golf soon. There's something transcendent about putting through a windmill...