The Golf Gypsy, Will Rogers, and Clint Eastwood

Will Rogers is quoted as saying, 

  “I guess there is nothing that will get your mind off everything like golf. I have never been depressed enough to take up the game, but they say you get so sore at yourself you forget to hate your enemy.” 

Miami News Records 1931, February 8. 

Rogers had a chance to play golf when he landed his plane due to foggy conditions, in Miami, Oklahoma February 8, 1931.  I gather he'd rather talk to people than play such a frustrating game, even when George L. Coleman Jr.  came to his rescue.

George L. Coleman, Jr. wins Oklahoma State Am. 

Golf has been a frustrating and important part of my life since the day I learned to walk.  My father, the pro, drilled into my head that I should not expect to win if I did not practice. At seventy-six it hurts too much to practice like I know I should, so I am learning to adapt, to adjust, revamp, rethink and accept. Accept that this is my game. (Currently, I am not doing a very good job of that, meaning my game and my acceptance that I now shoot in the 90's.) 

/.Letty Stapp, 1954 Miami Golf and Country Club

This fall, I partnered with Donna to play in the WOGA CUP. It felt like my game faltered with every swing. I played as well as I could, my competitive spirit and ability to laugh did not let me down even when my tee shot on hole 14 hit a tree and came right back to the rough near the tee box, where Donna then had to hit it. Alternate shot means you had better play with someone understanding and who can laugh.  

"I could have spit I was so disappointed in my swing and inability to hit the golf ball more than 140 yards. It truly stunned my ego, which made me laugh to think that I had grown up to be just like the men who quit playing golf because they could no longer play to their great expectations."  Letty

My lower back continues to compress and twist as I age. The fall from the horse at age ten that first broke my tailbone, has been scarred over. Falls are nothing new to me, as I sought adventures across fences that were meant to keep children out. 

In my forties I fell on an ice-covered frozen asphalt road one winter's day when I was walking the dog. It took weeks of feeling bent and in agony to heal. It would take another fall on broken busted asphalt before I found physical therapy and at last some relief from back pain.  

The final blow may have been when I slid off "Stormy" the Buffalo. Luckily, James ran to my rescue and saved me from a broken back, but my tail bone felt too sore to sit on.  

Stormy the Bison, Sandy Springs Farms 

All of which reminds me that I have totally enjoyed my seventy-six years of living and have done my best to par-take in every adventure that has come my way. So, yes, I will go out all used up, but until I do, I still push and workout in hopes of swinging that golf club for one more time, one more month, one more year... 

Wait didn't I say earlier that I am learning to adapt? Yes, I am accepting that I cannot hit the ball as far as I would like, but I can hit my short irons straight down the middle without pain. Adapting and accepting take on many forms as we age. 

Clint Eastwood said, 

"You should never give up on your inner-self." 

Eastwood is ninety-four years old and has to deal with the inevitable aches and pains of age. He doesn't play as much as he used to, although he never stopped. Sometimes he indulges in a couple of holes, "just to take the ashes out of the embers and let the passion for the game crackle once again." 

**Clint Eastwood story

If and when the day comes that my back will no longer support a golf swing, I will turn to my inner child and find a way to playfully enjoy life.

 **footnote 9/28/24 I climbed into the pilot seat of a Boeing CH-47  Chinook ... and another  small plane at the Air Show. I laughed out loud at how difficult simple things had become, like sliding into a small pilot's seat or better yet figuring out how to climb out without falling all over myself. and bruising my legs.  The inner child is still there, but she is growing stiffer with the years. 

Look out Millennials

Look out Millennials—

We’re still here – the Perennials.

You may know us as grandparents or Baby Boomers,

But as you can see we’re no longer booming onto the scene.

I only hope and pray that many of you will live this long.

 

Daisies 

Perennials are not the new 40 or 50 as some might wish.

To be honest we are older if not old.

We aspire to age gracefully and contribute to society,

But as perennials we can bloom again and again until the winter is too bitter.

I only hope and pray that many of you will live this long.

After reading this article in the Washington Post,  In Search of a Word,  I smiled and felt invigorated about my age. My eyes were opened to a new metaphor about growing older, and older. I can proudly say that I am a “perennial.” Each day and each season I can begin again, if I care for my body physically and mentally.

Naked ladies or Surprise Lilies 

In my late forties when one of my seventh grade students said that I must be the same age as the math teacher on our team, Mrs. L., I danced a happy step and laughingly replied, “Absolutely.” On our planning period that day, I laughed all the way down the hallway to Mrs. L’s room.  The thirty year old teacher didn’t think the comparison was funny.

In my fifties my back and feet conspired to keep me on the injured and recovering list summer after summer.  Aleve became my ally, our hot tub eased the pain, and I pushed like a thirty year old to play through the pain. Even in my fifties I didn’t have the wisdom to slow down.

Iris

In my sixties, one of my students carefully touched my hands and said, “Your hands look like the old ladies hands in the care home where my mother works.” I stopped breathing for a moment then replied with an empathetic smile, “You’re right. They look like my mother’s hands, and I rather like that.” Inside I felt the tears and smiled in recognition that I was aging. And that's a good thing.