Rob Lifford

My recently-rekindled interest in (OK, “obsession with”) golf continues to grow unabated despite a truly awful round on Austin’s Jimmy Clay municipal course this morning. I was out on the driving range Thursday night with my buddies Kyle and Emil, and Emil’s mini-swing-clinic had me hitting the ball like I never thought possible. My confidence was sky-high and I was so very, very, very sure I’d made that major breakthrough that would slash dozens of strokes off my game and bring my handicap down to weekend-warrior respectability. And of course, once I got out on the course today, nothing was working like it did at the range. Didn’t shoot par on a single hole. Hell, I shot only one actual bogey – everything else was double bogey or worse (sometimes much worse).

But hey, that’s what golf is. Just an expensive 4-hour walk into the depths of insanity in funny-looking shoes.

So, basically, I can’t wait to play again. Emil, outstanding gentleman that he is, swung by the house this afternoon to drop off a chipping net and a big ol’ box of old balls for a little backyard practice, and not one but two extra sets of clubs for me to try out – thanks, buddy!

My so-called musical life: Ty Hager is taking a month off to get himself sorted out. This is very good news, but it’ll be odd to not have a Friday happy hour gig for the next few weeks; I’d grown accustomed to that. Guess I’d better try to get some gigs for Lazy Fingers before the guys in the band forget who I am.

Around the house: Cheris and I finally started a long-put-off project, doing a broken-tile mosaic on an end table. It’s like a jigsaw puzzle with no box to show you how it’s supposed to fit together. And I thought golf would drive me insane.

Still reading children’s literature: time to go dig into Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (I’m one book behind the latest installment since we’re cheapskates who wait for the paperback editions). Goodnight.