Family Life

I like golfing about as much as I like a hole in the head. We have an annual work golf tournament, excitedly anticipated by the golf nuts I work with. The first year I said I wouldn’t be going. That was looked on unfavorably. The second year I managed to be involved with a super-urgent-top-priority project on that day, and was given special dispensation to miss golf. The third year I was out of excuses, and I had to golf. It didn’t kill me, but neither did it change my (lack of) regard for the game. And so I endured this ritual for another couple of years.

Then I had a brilliant idea. I suggested that I could bravely sacrifice my game and take photos of the event instead. This was looked on with suspicion. They thought maybe I was trying to get out of golfing. But I got the go-ahead. The results were successful all around: I enjoyed my time on a golf course, for the first time, and everybody else enjoyed looking and laughing at a gallery of their afternoon’s antics. Since then I’ve been the official photographer every year. This time I even got my own golf cart and didn’t have to lug around my equipment on foot.

It was a brilliant autumn afternoon, sunny and warm. At the end there was a scrumptious steak dinner and prizes for all. I came home with a new toolbox, promptly commandeered by the boys, and 360 golfing photos. A successful day.

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