Mom meets a golfing rocker
My mother, who is my biggest supporter and severest critic, is with us on this blog. There was never any urgent reason for me to announce her presence -- or not to.
Was there a learning curve? Yes, but she made it through. She's come up with a cool name to post under, and so far she has kept a lid on her wild swearing. It's funny, she never cursed at all until she took up golfing.
Of course, the photo is actually of the awesome Hall of Fame golfer Kathy Whitworth. I loved how she always looked like she had just pulled her station wagon into the parking lot.
Back around 1995, at the old Longview (now Fox Hollow), Mom had finished with her 9-hole league. She always tried to fit in another nine, which often meant being grouped up by the clubhouse with other pairs just starting out. "You can play with those men," she was told, "but be prepared to get a lot of attention."
It was a musician and his manager. The musician's band had an album out, and it was on its way to becoming a phenomenon. Mom had never heard of the band, and asked the men if they knew my cousin (a great musician), who plays in various Baltimore-based bands. They hadn't. They were, though, she said, just about as nice as they could be.
When she got home, she asked us if any of us had ever heard of Hootie.