The Lord works in mysterious ways. Usually when I play hooky from work I play alone, but yesterday I was paired with another guy at Fox Run. We played the blue tees and they were way back on hole 6 hitting into a stiff breeze. I used a 4 iron but could not see the ball land due to my worsening cataract, surgery planned Nov 13. When we walked onto the green only his ball was visible, nothing short of the green, so I was heading to the back of the green assuming I hit it too long. Of course, one cannot resist the urge to peek into the hole on the way, hahaha, right?  OMG, there’s my yellow Srixon Q-star!  I was reduced to a quivering mass of protoplasm while the other guy ran over to look into the hole and then went completely berserk, fouling the air with all sorts of caustic verbiage, all the way thru holes 7-8-9 and into the clubhouse to report this to the pro shop. Now if I were playing alone, who would believe me? Who could I tell, my wife or my boss, both of who think I am still at work? So the pro interrogates me as to which tees, which club did I use, etc. and I sheepishly had to admit it was a 4 iron, not the usual 8 or 9 iron when the wind is not blowing, then I said “No wait, it was a pitching wedge” but it was too late, he was not buying that. Anyway the other guy wants to buy me a beer, but I had to insist upon the tradition of the ace maker having to buy the beer, otherwise it would not count. Who should be in the group ahead of me but George Carlson, fellow softball teammate, who heard all the noise and asked me if this was my first ace, and then one upped me by saying he has two. Grrrrr!