Let’s talk about golf for a minute. I know, I know, that’s a really long time to spend on the subject, and I might run out of shit to say about it long before the minute is up. But bear with me.

I used to play golf. And by play, I mean, drive a cart around and carry a bag of clubs, swinging at balls, marking nines on every hole… You know. Playing golf. My dad bought me a set of clubs when I was a kid. So I played with him all the time. I’d usually find myself moving my ball up to match his lay. I’ve obviously way outgrown those clubs by now, so when I play these days, I borrow someone else’s clubs. I usually play once or twice a decade. Last time I played 18 holes with Aaron was about three years ago, and the game took us almost eight hours.

It’s actually quite a bit of fun if you don’t take it too seriously. And you stop the beer girl every chance you get. I don’t have any allusions about being a golfer. I know I suck, I know I will always suck, and I know that I never want to be good. God help me if I become a golfer. I have nothing against golfers. I just don’t want to be one. My dad is a golfer. He’s cool though. I think he’s the exception. Except that he watches it on television. Constantly.

Every time I’m hanging at my Pop’s house, he’s watching golf. And I don’t mind. It’s great background noise while I recline in the chair with a Cold One and work on the crossword puzzle or read. Then I get done with that and watch a little golf. For several seconds, I’m able to pay attention before drifting off into a cozy little nap. Golf is great for napping to. The people don’t get too loud, the commentators never get excited, the clapping sounds are soothing, and occasionally you stir because of a loud “thwack” sound from a driver. Of course, followed by the “Get down! Get down!” and then the clapping. It’s nice background noise.

This isn’t a game I can take seriously. I’m on the same page as George Carlin here. He mentions how gorgeous the land is that’s used for golf, and how arrogant and pretentious these pricks are who think it’s a good use of that much freakin’ space. Seriously. The standard golf course is like five or six miles worth of walking. Or cart driving. I actually love driving the cart and drinking beers. I’ll skip several holes just to enjoy the comfortable seat and the beer holder. Plus it helps lower my score. I skipped ten holes last time I played, so my score was nice and low, like in the 130s.

The last time I played, like I said, it took about eight hours to finish the game. I think seven or eight groups of people played through us. It was ridiculous how slow we were, and it was just the two of us. We both bought a case of balls at the start of the game. That’s twelve balls each. By the end of the game we were using old shitty balls left in the bottom of the bags. I sometimes go through three or four balls on a hole. And I’ve never kept a single ball throughout an entire game. Unless it was a ball I didn’t use.

By the end of the game, we were tired and drunk and hot and thirsty, and just ready for a nap. So we went back to his place to watch a little golf.

All in all, I think golf has its place in my life. It should have a place in everyone’s life. It’s a nice place to go walk around or drive a cart around and drink beer and listen to nature. Golf courses are always quiet. It’s also a great place to go to get a sense of fashion. The clothes people wear on golf courses are always nice and stylish, smart and sophisticated. And, as I’ve mentioned it’s a great sleep aid. screw ambien or lunesta, or whatever sleeping pill you’re taking. Just tune in some golf! Insomniac? Subscribe to the golf network on the dish.

But beyond that, I cannot see myself ever being a golfer. My swing isn’t very good and I don’t like khakis that much. But today is National Golf Day (seriously, look it up), so let’s just be aware that it is out there. And if you know someone who is an avid golfer, try to help them today. Their golf game may be a cry for help.