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And Bru, you will NOT call me "grasshopper." I have snatched the pebble from Master Po's hand, and earned the right to tell those @#$% kids to get off my @#$% lawn.
So, am I a curmudgeon yet?
You sir, are the very epitome of the "mountain top guru", always dispensing wisdom in a calm and factually concise manner. To achieve full curmudgeonry status and recognition, you have to occasionally go off the rails with an irreverent and impolite rant totally inconsiderate of the accepted social graces.
This is not to indicate that hitting into the foursome ahead of you who have taken 15 minutes looking for an errant ball, or all of your foursome lining up like a colour party on parade 70 or so yards off the green, all leaning on your wedges and glaring pointedly while the foursome ahead proceeds to do the usual each of them walking the green taking twelve individual views of their pending putts holding their wee putters out in front of them in the pendulum position, while all of them have already double bogied the hole, being deemed accredited behaviour towards the blissful state of curmudgeonry……..but...
…..arriving at your foursome's table at the nineteenth hole with a purchased pitcher of draft and only one glass would indicate a very indicative commitment of working towards your goal.
Let us know when you've performed that very primary of deeds and we will all put our heads together to assign your next task. You can put your ascendancy safely and securely in our most trustworthy hands.
You sir, are the very epitome of the "mountain top guru", always dispensing wisdom in a calm and factually concise manner. To achieve full curmudgeonry status and recognition, you have to occasionally go off the rails with an irreverent and impolite rant totally inconsiderate of the accepted social graces.
This is not to indicate that hitting into the foursome ahead of you who have taken 15 minutes looking for an errant ball, or all of your foursome lining up like a colour party on parade 70 or so yards off the green, all leaning on your wedges and glaring pointedly while the foursome ahead proceeds to do the usual each of them walking the green taking twelve individual views of their pending putts holding their wee putters out in front of them in the pendulum position, while all of them have already double bogied the hole, being deemed accredited behaviour towards the blissful state of curmudgeonry……..but...
…..arriving at your foursome's table at the nineteenth hole with a purchased pitcher of draft and only one glass would indicate a very indicative commitment of working towards your goal.
Let us know when you've performed that very primary of deeds and we will all put our heads together to assign your next task. You can put your ascendancy safely and securely in our most trustworthy hands.
Oh my. Your advice for Chevy is daunting.
I see I have a lot to learn. I'll start with the pitcher and one glass, and work my way up.
Although yesterday I was very tempted to stand amongst the tourists in Gastown who flock to see " the old steam clock " and whisper the truth to them. " It really isn't powered by steam but electric motors, and it's not from the 19th century but made in the 1970's "...but I resisted.
Things must change as you move away from the border. I grew up in central Maine... several hours from the NB border and spent childhood summers on my grandparents' farm in Wallace, NS... also several hours from the ME border. I could hear the difference in how people spoke... and their political views... Canadian family seemed so much more liberal and politically engaged than stateside family, but this might have just been a peculiarity to family. Aunts, uncles and cousins in New Glasgow (NS), on Cape Breton Island, and in the Moncton (NB) area were all *progressive*… People in Maine tended and still tend to keep their political views to themselves.
In my part of Maine, you really did hear people saying things like, "Ayuh, you can't get theyah from heyah".... or "pahk the cah"... This was totally absent in NS and the Moncton area. People in Nova Scotia also had a few different vowel sounds and conversational tags than Mainers. But mostly all nice people on both sides of the border.
My Falmouth-born MIL has been gone for 27 years, and I still say "pahk the cah" and eat "cahn" in her honor. She married at 18 and moved to New Jersey and eventually Florida, but she never lost that accent.
I'm still trying to get used to the Canadian accent. "I saw a hock flying over." HUH?
My Falmouth-born MIL has been gone for 27 years, and I still say "pahk the cah" and eat "cahn" in her honor. She married at 18 and moved to New Jersey and eventually Florida, but she never lost that accent.
I'm still trying to get used to the Canadian accent. "I saw a hock flying over." HUH?
I get made fun of in return. Hawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwk.
Accents are fun.
I think it was in Texas where some say " all " and " oil " exactly the same.
I see I have a lot to learn. I'll start with the pitcher and one glass, and work my way up.
Although yesterday I was very tempted to stand amongst the tourists in Gastown who flock to see " the old steam clock " and whisper the truth to them. " It really isn't powered by steam but electric motors, and it's not from the 19th century but made in the 1970's "...but I resisted.
Haaar! Nat; have stood right there quite a few times over the years. A few of those visits were pre-clock, early sixties RCN years but one visit back there was during the period when that clock was still steam powered. Fond memories.
One of our must do's whenever visiting Van. was to visit the Pacific Institute of Culinary Arts for a meal of their training menu for the day.
Nat the trick to the single glass thingy is to keep an absolutely straight face while pouring your first glass from that pitcher. If you can maintain that visage right up to the first sip without breaking into a grin....you're ready for at least the brown belt of curmudgeonry.
My Falmouth-born MIL has been gone for 27 years, and I still say "pahk the cah" and eat "cahn" in her honor. She married at 18 and moved to New Jersey and eventually Florida, but she never lost that accent.
I'm still trying to get used to the Canadian accent. "I saw a hock flying over." HUH?
I get made fun of in return. Hawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwk.
I golfed regularly in Florida with a guy that speaks just like that. It was a hoot when he and a fellow that grew up in "Cajun" Louisiana would get into it after a round. They delighted in taking the mickey out of each other and would keep the rest of us gleefully entertained.
You sir, are the very epitome of the "mountain top guru", always dispensing wisdom in a calm and factually concise manner. To achieve full curmudgeonry status and recognition, you have to occasionally go off the rails with an irreverent and impolite rant totally inconsiderate of the accepted social graces.
Okay, I can go along with that. It pretty much describes my approach to the message boards. It is true that "You kids, get off my @#$% lawn" isn't really my style.
This is not to indicate that hitting into the foursome ahead of you who have taken 15 minutes looking for an errant ball, or all of your foursome lining up like a colour party on parade 70 or so yards off the green, all leaning on your wedges and glaring pointedly while the foursome ahead proceeds to do the usual each of them walking the green taking twelve individual views of their pending putts holding their wee putters out in front of them in the pendulum position, while all of them have already double bogied the hole, being deemed accredited behaviour towards the blissful state of curmudgeonry……..but...
Gosh, haven't I seen that.
A lot of people don't take me seriously at golf. I don't have golf shoes, or a golf glove, or whatever. I am properly attired, according to the course. But the fact is--I learned to play when all I could afford was green fees. I used my Dad's clubs, and whatever old balls were in Dad's bag. They has a smile? So what, let's play. I walked the course, with my bag over my shoulder, dropping it wherever I needed to hit. (Nowhere near greens, of course.) I could not afford such luxuries as golf shoes and golf gloves. And I got very comfortable playing golf that way.
And to this day, I play the same way. And I've had many great games. Looking forward to playing with you sometime, Bru!
A lot of people don't take me seriously at golf. I don't have golf shoes, or a golf glove, or whatever. I am properly attired, according to the course. But the fact is--I learned to play when all I could afford was green fees. I used my Dad's clubs, and whatever old balls were in Dad's bag. They has a smile? So what, let's play. I walked the course, with my bag over my shoulder, dropping it wherever I needed to hit. (Nowhere near greens, of course.) I could not afford such luxuries as golf shoes and golf gloves. And I got very comfortable playing golf that way.
And to this day, I play the same way. And I've had many great games. Looking forward to playing with you sometime, Bru!
I think you just frightened this old codger into starting the handicap whining and bidding debate. I'm STILL not comfortable playing golf and breaking ninety is cause for a house round on me.
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