The Long Battle for Supremacy of the Western (Golf) World

By Bill Borel and John Borel

Brother Bill and Brother John, The Dueling Cavaliers

Brother Bill and Brother John, The Dueling Cavaliers

(C. Hedge:  Some of my earliest memories are my two uncles, John and Bill, and their competitions to outdo each other.  Gramma was a huge part of it  (“Mom always liked you best!”)  With gentle prodding from our author, Bill Borel, Uncle John agreed to share  a bird’s eye view of their latest escapade.  After fifty years, the two are spending a week unescorted, mostly unedited, of golf in Sunny California.)

Round One: 

Bill: (To Cathy)   Since you ordained me as your author for “Slice of Life” I thought I would run it past you. The reason for the trip is to have fun and to reunite for a week of golf and reflection. Our path will take us to visit our two sisters, Joan and Mary. We will drive for two days and listen to John’s classical music, and Bill’s pop music. If you cannot use it there will be no hard feelings, and probably would save our brotherly relationship. Thanks, Uncle/Cousin Bill

John: Whether or not the drivel coming from the wrangling of your two over-the-hill uncles will meet your standards for publication is a serious question, and I leave it entirely in your capable hands. I’ve been horn-swoggled into this escapade.   Love, Uncle J.

P.S. On second thought My feelings remain that to make this a wrangle is unnecessary .–we’re just out to have a pleasant get-together and some golf.

Bill: Fine with me. I started to worry also that it would occupy too much of our energy. It might have been fun. But to sit down daily and write a story would defeat my original goal of creaming your ass at golf. So, maybe at some point we can recapture your defeated look as you hand over dollar bills to me; but total non-commitment is the theme of the day. Sorry Cat.  Uncle Bill

John: That would require a photograph to capture my happy face; words could not suffice.

Bill:  You mean you will be happy to hand money over to me?

John:  I have to apologize. In my doddering,feeble old age, I sent the email before I had a chance to add: “It is a happy face because I will have trounced you, collecting scads of dollar bills, using my super handicap.”   And I have to add that my furious emails are due to my two crowns and God knows what other dental cruelties are impending. That and water in my ear. Perhaps it is all apprehension at having to face up to victory after a lifetime of seeking consensus where there are no winners or losers.  Love, Jb

Bill:  Cathy. Do not be fooled. Your uncle John is just faking it to weezle some extra strokes from me. He was encouraged to whine by your grandmother who let him get away with everything.

Cathy: Ha!  I thought that was reserved for the baby of the family!

Bill:  I knew I had stepped too far with that mother thing. Properly humbled I know your mother will stick up for me…I think. So it is left for Palm Springs and seven days of great golf and fun.

Uncle Bill in his armor

Uncle Bill in his armor

Round Two: 

Bill:  http://fantasyspringsresort89-px.rtrk.com/prod/index.html   Kind of an exciting little video. Our tee time for Sunday, Nov 10th is 10:44. This will give us time to get acclimated to the heat, hit a few practice balls, sleep in a little, and have breakfast. Maybe even take a half hour lesson on chipping and putting if an instructor is available.

John:  Hearty men don’t sleep in when away from home. No need for lesson on chipping, putting….doesn’t do any good!   By the way I played at Saratoga Lake yesterday in 40 degree temperatures and sand on the greens, and I three-putted birdie shots….but I had a birdie and scored 98!  I’m back, bro and my handicap is high!
Don’t worry, I’m easy.

Bill: Understood. Still think one round of golf on Sunday plus hitting a few will fill out the day…. As for quality of golf, I think we are pretty close. We were in Alabama and not much has changed with my game except I need one l club longer on shots now.

John:  …I see through you. I do not have any club longer than a driver, but it no longer gets me over the modest ravines it used to get me over. Still a 25 handicap because I do not report most of my miserable scores. But your plan is good, and I am sure you can teach me a thing or two.

Bill: If I recall right, we were tied until the seventeenth hole at The Senator. And if you weren’t honest you would have won. Still makes me laugh.

John:  Well, don’t forget, Señor. I have been out 12 weeks with shingles and then pacemaker, and I am spending the weekend in THE BIG APPLE chewing on one side of my mouth (I am having a root canal done on Monday when we get back). Call it what you will, it requires grit and determination to even get out and walk those hilly courses in 40 deg. temps and still get a birdie. I guess it is general deterioration and rot.

Bill: …. I went to the driving range yesterday and forgot how to hold the club. Do you grab the end with the big knob, or the one wrapped with leather? Lost any confidence I have been trying to build up by watching instruction videos.

John:  That’s a crock. You practically played professional football and won championships. I had to forego any sports because of my frailty. It was disgusting to learn from a clerk at the Apple farm today that he hits the ball 250 yards, and I talked to him a couple of years when he started and he couldn’t even afford golf clubs…and he’s 70.

Bill:  If you get a chance go to a golf store and pick up a free glossy magazine on golf courses in Palm Springs.

John:  We don’t have golf shops in Saratoga Springs. Just golf shops at golf courses. I’ll try to go to the net. Just had a root canal today.

Bill: While they were in there did they suggest having a brain canal too?

John : Touché Brer Rabbit. No, you have left me speechless and empty-headed, and I cannot tell you whether they did or didn’t. The Dr had lost his wedding ring. I tried to give some advice from my vast investigative experience in finding lost objects, but that seemed to annoy him, and I don’t remember anything after that. When my head started aching, I called the office and the receptionist told me to take one ibuprofen and one Tylenol, and if it still hurts tomorrow, well, it will still hurt.  If I remember anything more, I will let you know. Jb

John (To Cathy):  Don’t let my brother know, but it’s not as bad as it sounds. I’m very tough. But thank you for thinking of me. The best thing is that the water sound in my ears (NOT WATER ON THE BRAIN,BILL) has disappeared…. Oh, and I forgot, my knee pain has gone away.Of course, now I must concern myself with high cholesterol and a painful stroke and eventual death or gangrene. …But I will fight my hardest to keep my sly brother honest in the coming days.  Love,  Uncle J

John (To Cathy): When I battle Bill (The Animal) on the plains in Indio, where I suspect there will be much weeping and simpering and feigned bravado, as he shakes the rocks weirdly from his left ear and cries Uncle (or Brother), out will come some used Bridgestone golf balls.

Bill:  As Grandpa Arnold used to say, “Ye Gads” what a bunch of tripe…or something like that…at least the Ye Gads part is right. Now we are into rocks! Is that like throwing stones? and that followed up by all that mush trying to ply on my sensitive side. What’s with that?….The only stones I am familiar with now days are little square ones you freeze and put in your scotch glass. No Brother, your obvious effort to soften me before the attack will only prepare me more for your first assault. Do not be fooled dear young niece; he prepares his foil as we speak. But, he knows he was always my hero so I will not, repeat, will not give into his superior charm and intellect.  Love Uncle Bill  P.S. Two can play at that game.warriors big

John: (To Cathy Jean)  Oh how ingratiating!  The final sentence he says something almost nice. Anyway, it was “Ye Gods and little fishhooks.” Well, I HAVE to be nice, because I have to depend on my little bro to pick me up and take me around. …. But I’ve got bigger problems than that. I’m likely to wind up in chains and may never get to the airport. You see I’m planning to bring out a couple of my old Afghan sabers that have been sitting in my closet, since Phyllis forbade hanging them on the wall, even in the bathroom, or storage room or garage. And I would like to see them stay in the family, so I’m bringing them.  The thing is I have out them in the golf bag with the golf clubs, and my bags are likely to be x-rayed.

P.S. Sorry. I fell asleep writing the memo below. I tend to not sleep well at night when I have regular coffee after dinner and undistributed Halloween chocolate before going to bed. I was just going to end up by saying it’s been nice knowing you all.  Love,Jb

Bill: Insist you get your one phone call.
Bill:  Hey hey hey. There are more forms of communication than ipads….And I did remember the little fishhooks but for the life of me I never knew what that meant or had to do with anything. Being wiser, and older…much older…than me, perhaps you can explain it to me and to Cathy for future generations.

Cease Fire: 

John:  (To Phyllis): Hi Phyllis,  Wish you were here. We enjoyed a gourmet dinner of homemade spaetzle and chicken, cabbage rolls and multi-tiered cake, prepared by Steve…here in Yreka. Mary…she was at 110 percent. They treated us like royalty. Wonderful introduction to Steve’s book and his story of family and country.  Bill was in very good behavior, although he did rehash that worn joke “when you had your root canal, did you consider having a brain canal?” I was in awe today of both  Joan and Mary for having tried parasailing THREE times in Mexico. What do we have to do?! ….We return to battle tomorrow after this brief ceasefire.

Love,

Your wayfarer husband

P.S. The long battle for supremacy of the Western World continues.

Round Three: 

John:  11/9 Hi P.   We got in late last night and went out for a bit of Mexican food.  Beautiful resort….We are headed out in a few minutes for our first golf. I’ve determined, and Bill agrees, that he is a compulsive “re-arranger.”  He has to change where anything is placed to make it acceptable to him.  I’m a good time manager, so we are giving ourselves monikers. He is the Shape Shifter  and I am the Time Bandit. I told him he could just do all the work….Love,Me

Mt. ShastaJohn:  Hi P and Danelle,  We passed Mt Shasta at sunrise and today we watched the sunset after 18 holes at Desert Dunes at Indio. Bill won $6 from me, (but he spent $10 on beer) but it was my fault for trying to imitate Keegan Bradley (I hit a putt too hard after trying to stare down the ball; and got a bogie.) We both made it over a treacherous par 3. Bill is just now saying (over a beer) “the last couple of holes I think I figured it out,”….oh man, is he a dreamer! WE’RE FREE.

John:  11/10 Bill and I played Desert Dunes, a Robert Trent Jones designed course in a natural desert setting with mountains framing the horizon and vast fields of white windmills dotting the distant landscape. We played nine holes with a couple from Canada, Tim and Carol – he being an actual golfer. We were in awe. Bill gave me five strokes. but I still lost $2 on the front and $2 on the back and $2 overall score. I should get more handicap strokes! Then he tried to kill me by taking me to In and Out Burgers. “I didn’t say they were good burgers,” he said. “I said you would have an experience”. One good thing….eating the burger solved some of my constitutional problems. …

81° Sunny
Indio, CA, United States

old duffer

Uncle John

Bill: We met this old timer at desert dunes and he let us take his photo.

John:  On Nov 10  Below is Bro Bill’s first entry (after three days) in Cathy Jean’s blog. You can tell it is lopsided and heavily biased against his weaker older brother. Traveling with him reminds me of the old Chinese proverb. “May your life not be an interesting one. ” Neither one of us, of course, can remember any details or names of things without looking them up on Google. (By the way Danelle, without you around, I should secretly advise you that Bill is quite messy and leaves things around, like shoes, used tissue papers, newspapers, napkins, maps and anything else he has laid his hands on. And I don’t believe he makes his bed, though I haven’t actually documented that fact.) But we are having a ball. Don’t tell him I revealed all if this.

Bill:  Day 3 of the golf reunion of brothers John and bill.
It is Sunday morning and I am pleased to write both brothers are still alive despite a saber fight in Seattle and a sneak knife attack by John in Yreka…. Lunch at Joan’s changed our bad luck to good with only a minor skirmish and no blood. The ride from Eugene to Yreka was uneventful as long as I closed my eyes when John was driving. I do not tell everyone how well we were treated at our lovely sisters homes. Thanks to them and to God for giving us such a great family.

But two brothers do not always make good decisions together. We said, “Why not go all the way from Yreka to Palm springs in one day? After all on the GPS it is only a 12 hour drive.” And it would have been if we didn’t make a mistake and end up in the middle of LA traffic on Friday night rush hour traffic. Concern about gas meant leaving the freeway… at an exit that had no gas station. Finally at the far end of north Hollywood we did find three pumps in a corner station named USA gas. Of course they did not have a restroom.

Back on the freeway, or, stop and go way, we made it to east bound interstate 10. There are no rest stops in the middle of LA. Desperate by now and as the traffic cleared a little we found a deserted business park with dark hidden corners. Relieved we jumped back on the freeway, drove a mile and saw a sign saying, “Rest Stop, one mile”. It’s true. Eventually we made it to the resort in Indio, checked in and tried to find a spot to eat in a town geared for geriatrics who go to bed at 9. A fast food taco was the best we could do..

But we have reservations for a golf course, the sun is out, the resort is fabulous, and I know brother John will be no match for my superior golf ability.

More later.Uncle Bill

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The Second Crop of : Harvesting the Second Crop

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We love wine, especially that produced by for personal use by Celeste and Clay at Gantz Family Vineyards.   It’s like poetry in a bottle.

Along with  Angelina M. Lopez, they write a beautiful blog about their experiences in wine-making and the life of the farm.   Through their posts, you can savor the taste of a sun-warmed late season grape, the intricate steps in wine-making, or learn the complex skills it takes to prune a vine.   I hope you enjoy reading this fine series.

http://gantzfamilyvineyards.com/harvesting-the-second-crop/

(Besides, one of my favorite dogs lives there! Hi, Jake!)

Jenytriesgrapes2-300x225NickJenyClay-768x1024

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Thanks, Marie, and Happy Halloween!

Thanks, Marie, and Happy Halloween!.

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Thanks, Marie, and Happy Halloween!

By Catherine Hedge

Marie, thank you so much for giving me the courage to post!  In 2012, with the lure of a free book by my favorite author, I took up her challenge.  Write a story the entire planet  can see on Halloween!

I wasn’t too sure about the new world I was entering…sure there were sadistic spirits and clawing demons ready to pull me into an Internet Underworld…like the guy in Tron who sits in front of Master Control and gets digitized.  (I grew up with Hal in 2001, A Space Odyssey, after all, and knew those computers are really out to get us! )

So…I hope you will enjoy reading my story, a repost from Marie Loughin’s very creative blog…

“I Wanna Be…at http://marieloughin.com/2011/10/21/halloweens-not-all-about-being-wicked/

(P.S.  Join me next week for a beautiful guest post about picking wine grapes!)

Halloween’s not all about being wicked…

Posted on October 21, 2011This beautiful Halloween story came in from Catherine Hedge, who doesn’t yet have a blog.  I decided to use it as a guest post.  

Reading her story and the comment from Merry Simmons, I start to feel that there’s as much family in Halloween as in Christmas…

There’s still time to post a story in the comments of my October Country post.  You might even win Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes!

********

Money was tight when I was a kid.  Our Halloween costumes were  usually Mom’s dresses hiked up with a belt or a paper bag with eye holes…often in the wrong place.   One year, though, I had the best costume ever!

I was twelve, the fateful year when our family traditions said, “You’re getting too old.  This is your last year!”

I was already 5’4”, about 105 pounds, flat chested, and middle school awkward.   No way was I going to wear Mom’s clothes and stuff in tissue breasts.  Sheets were too precious to cut up for ghost costumes.  My little sister snagged the gypsy beads and scarf before I could.   It was already 6:00 and my siblings had finished their hot dogs and macaroni and cheese.  I was desperate.  If I didn’t find something fast, I’d lose any chance for those precious Milky Way bars and Tootsie Rolls.

I was on my way to the paper bag collection with a pair of scissors when my dad saw me.  When he asked if I was okay, I started sobbing.  It seemed a great injustice that it was my last year for trick or treating and I was going out as a Safeway bag head.

Some kids are lucky. Their fathers don’t say things like, “Stop being such a baby!” or “If you’d only planned ahead, you wouldn’t be in this predicament!”  I was lucky.

My dad took me back into the folk’s bedroom and opened up the cedar chest.  He pulled out a package wrapped in brown craft paper and string.   I still remember the slight mothball smell.  I stood there sniffling while Daddy revealed his WWII sailor suit;  deep blue wool bell bottoms, a heavy v-necked top with a ribbon trimmed back flap, and a white cap.  He left the room while I tried it on.

I pulled on the pants.  They had  a square flap in the front with at least a dozen anchor shaped buttons.  A draw string like shoe laces inched up the back.  I pulled the string tight.  Without looking, I knew the uniform fitted me perfectly.  Cinched up to my small waist, the fabric accentuated my newly curving hips.  I didn’t look like a boy at all.   My mom came in the room.  (She was more the “If you’d only planned ahead” type.)  But when she saw me, she smiled and said, “You’re growing up so fast!”

My brothers and sisters were making a fuss, hollering at me to hurry.  I rounded the corner.  As one, they seemed to gasp, “You get to wear that?!”

Very ceremoniously, my dad took his white sailor cap and showed me how to wear it just right, a bit to the side, pulled to the front into a V just about touching my eyebrow. Then, surrounded by my jealous siblings, I strutted out the door.

Yes, it was my last Halloween costume, but I’ll never forget it.  Even dressed up like a boy, for the first time  I felt I was beautiful.

About Marie Loughin

I love reading, writing, and editing speculative fiction of all sorts. My current focus is on writing contemporary fantasy, where I get to play god with characters from myth and legend. My Norse-based urban fantasy, Valknut: The Binding, is available at Kindle Books and other e-book retailers. You can find me at my blog (marieloughin.com) and on Twitter (@mmloughin).

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We Grow Through Time

This man was really amazing. Leonard Bishop lived with passion every moment of his life. He often said that if he hadn’t become a writer, he never would have survived. Thank you, Mr. B

Multiple Viewpoints's avatarLeonard Bishop

by Leonard Bishop

I enjoy remembering, but I do not believe in photograph albums. They are bulky, and troublesome to maintain. There are always stacks of pictures in the drawer, waiting to be placed on the pages.

Years ago I decided “No more albums,” and began searching the thrift stores for used frames. Whenever I settle and build myself a studio, I hang the photographs on the walls. I am surrounded by my history, by the people I love, by memories. Wherever I look, there I am, where I used to be.

There I am in 1944, a few weeks before D-Day. I’m wearing a broad brimmed fedora, my jacket was wide, padded shoulders, and I’m sneering. If it had not been for that photograph me and three other kids would’ve robbed and mugged the greatest symphony conductor of the time Arturo Toscanini.

We had it carefully cased and planned…

View original post 696 more words

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The 5 W’s, the H, and the 5 Senses in Novel Writing

by Raji Singh

EbookCover-Lightened-Ver

Our Founder, James Thaddeus “Blackjack” Fiction ‘Tell our stories, Raji. If you don’t, it will be as if we never lived.’These whispering cries of joy and sorrow rise from the bookshelves and portraits in the Fiction House.I cannot refuse. (cover enhancement: Joseph Rintoul)

     High school and college journalism teaches,”Get those who, what, where, when, why, and hows in pretty near the beginning of your story.” It is sound, basic crafting.

A big mistake beginning novel writers make is not including them soon enough.  The reason:  He or she believes they are creating mystery by this act of omission.  Reality:  The reader may get lost in story not fully grounded, confused by incomplete characterizations, and lost in plot mazes.  The mystery, if that is what you are striving for, emanates from you, the writer, working hard to set a firm foundation the audience can use to build upon, with the specific materials you provide.

You will make the groundwork for your novel rock solid by utilizing the 5 W’s and the H as you (1) tell the reader what you are writing about as fully as you can – without giving away too much plot or the ending – , (2) be creative with your situations, characters, and story -avoid predicatability, (3) make what you write believable, even if it seems completely unbelievable.

The 5 senses – sight, sound, touch, smell, hear – should be in the writers thoughts at all times while he or she composes.  “That isn’t necessary,” a lot of writers will say.  “You can just remind yourself to include them.”  Yes, this can be done.  However, by utilizing them as you compose, they can serve many functions not considered in the conceptualization phase– for example; create moods that deepen your story, change pacing to create velocity, or, just the opposite, hold to the moment.  You can utilize senses to color a person, situation, or event so mystery is deepened.  So many things.

The act of keeping the senses in your thought processes as you write might seem inconsequential, when you can, say, just make a note at the beginning of each chapter reminding  yourself  to get them in.  But just try it for a while in your novel writing process.  It will be fun.  It will open up your imagination to new realms of your story you didn’t consider when conceiving your idea.  It will make characters, situations and ultimately, your story, fuller.

Happy writing, and happy taking the time to watch and to smell the sweet roses, feel their smooth petals, hear the bee buzzing, and butterfly fluttering near to drink the rose’s sweet succulence.

(Join me every Sunday night at the Fiction House, your place for short story, lark, whimsy, and merriment.  Meet the many residents as I archive their lives and centuries of adventures.  You can read of their origins in my novel TALES OF THE FICTION HOUSE.  They are completely different stories.  My novel is available at Amazon, and Barnes and Noble.)

©2013 Raji Singh

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Get That Novel Going!

Get That Novel Going!.

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Get That Novel Going!

By Catherine Hedge

If anyone could get you to write well, he could!

If anyone could get you to write well, he could!

I’m starting a new novel.  I have a whole 11 pages done so far.  (Yippee!)  But when I start worrying or doubting my abilities, I reach for my favorite tonic, a little bit of Mr. B.  (Leonard Bishop, that is.)

Whether it’s reading his blog, his book Dare to Be a Great Writer, or just delving back into my old class notes, I know I’ll emerge stronger, more confident, and ready to take risks.

This week, I was sharing with a dear friend his view on “internal editors.”  He loved to tell a story of a writer who would end each day by looking back over her writing.  She said her internal editor was always telling her things like, “This is just terrible!  Throw it away!”  Leonard told her to replace her editor with his who said, “Oh, This is Wonderful!  Fantastic!  More! I must have more!”

So, as I try to talk my internal editor into being critical, but kind, I reread one of Leonard’s best blogs on how to get off of the “I want to write a novel…someday” sticking place and launch into the reality of “I’ve done it!”

For those who are writing and want a joyful boost or those who’ve wished away decades, this repost is for you!  I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you, Mr. B!

Write A Novel? Let’s Pretend (repost).  By Leonard Bishop

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Words

Words.

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Words

By Catherine Hedge

Pen In Hand: A League of Writers and Dreamers

Words….

Heard or unheard

Written

Whispered

 Shouted

Sung

With the power to sting, slander, and slay

Or to teach, heal, and inspire

We have the right to words…and the responsibility

For all the words of the past

And those still

Unspoken

Unwritten

Unsung

May they reveal the best of our humanity

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