Today is my fifty-fifth birthday. Double nickels. Finally hit the speed limit. I can now order from a lot of senior menus at restaurants. As a matter of fact, my favorite restaurant, O'Charlie's, has a senior menu which is for those fifty-five and over. There are also a number of golf courses which allow people my age to play for reduced rates. There are a few financial rewards for those of us who have gotten to this stage in life. However, there is also one other benefit which I will probably not be able to use; the gold tees.
I am still able to hit a golf ball with a fair amount of power. My tee shots still travel somewhere between two hundred fifty and three hundred yards. I have been known to hit my five wood to the green from two hundred forty yards out. No one that I play with on a regular basis will allow me to walk to the gold tees and hit while they are consigned to the whites or blues. For that matter, whenever I go to play a course I usually stop at the first tee box to which I come. I usually play the tips. It's a man thing.
That's the problem with growing older. Women die their hair and get Botox treatments to hide the advancement of age. Men look at more practical things. We don't care how old we look, just how old we seem. There is a certain matter of pride involved that compels me to stay at the back tees with the kids. In fact, today I will play a round of golf at Kenny Perry's Country Creek Golf Course in Franklin, Kentucky. My youngest son and I are going down this morning and play. We will play it from the back tees.
Hmmm. From the back tees. That means longer, more difficult, less margin for error and a greater opportunity for humiliation. Yep. The back tees. That means there is a built in reason for disaster. "Well, after all, we were playing the back tees." The back tees is something I intend to enjoy for as long as I can. I know someday my body will remove that right from me. Someday I will physically not be able to stay at the back tees. On that day the gold tees will be a welcome sight for me and my shorter game. That day is coming.
"In the day when the keepers of the house tremble (the legs grow shaky), and the strong men bow down (the back weakens); when the grinders cease because they are few (the teeth fall out), and those that look through the windows grow dim (the eyes fail to see anymore)." Ecclesiastes 12:3 That day will come soon enough. For right now I am thankful for the blessing of what health I have. For now, I will keep stopping at the back tees.