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02 July 2004 - 09:42 I am of the distinct conclusion that playing golf in a thunderstorm is a maniacal idea. Something about lifting metalic and conductive sticks above your head like some kind of ridiculous invitation. "Go on... I dare you..." Yesterday I played golf as a thunderstorm passed first east and then west of me, with lightening grounding within a couple of kilometers. I get scared. Very damn scared. And people laugh at me. What those people don't understand is that when my dad was 8 years old, he went walking with his older brother in the hills in the borders of Scotland. A storm brewed and as they tried to get off the mountain, lightening struck. Just once. It hit my dad's brother(I don't use the term uncle - I never knew him), killing him outright, and glanced off my dad, knocking him unconcious, but not before he saw what it had done to John. My dad is a very strong man, in muscle and character. However, needless to say, when there is thunder and lightening in the air, he becomes a little like his eight year old self. ANd as a result, we (my family) are all terrified of it. I won't stand out in it, I don't even like to watch it from a window. To me it's a force so unbelieveably powerful (without trying to sound like a cheesey James Bond bad guy) and uncontrolleable, that even though the chances of being hit are miniscule, there's still a chance. And that's enough for me. So yesterday, as the flashes flashed and the booms boomedaround me, I was a little terrified. I could feel my heartbeat double and the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I could hear my dad ushering me inside with a great urgency. It's also why I scored 101.
My life is rated NC-17. What is your life rated? |