</font><font color="blue" class="small">( So to protect myself, I tell my wife I have to play lots of golf ..........it's called SELF PRESERVATION!! )</font>
My experience with golf was a little different than yours. In my early twenties I worked at the phone company, was married, going to college at night via VA, and decided to learn to play golf because, well, guys at work did it on weekends.
I bought the stuff, took the lessons, and it darn near drove me crazy. Everyone else on the course was having a good time, an occasional beer, lots of laughing, etc. Of all the things I do well screwing up isn't high on the list. And with golf it seemed that I could get close but it was still a miss. "An inch is as good as a mile" took on a whole new meaning. It didn't take long to figure out that golf gave one more opportunities for screwing up than it did for screwing off. I had to stop or blow a gasket.
Needless to say after starting golf I had to have a legitimate reason for not continuing. Quitting isn't a nice word, doesn't fit well if you know what I mean.
So I became "busy".
And "busy" became "fun".
It's worked well all these years.
But every now and then I'll be off, oh, just a little bit. I'll think of golf, and get "busy" before I blow a fuse. /forums/images/graemlins/grin.gif /forums/images/graemlins/grin.gif /forums/images/graemlins/grin.gif /forums/images/graemlins/grin.gif /forums/images/graemlins/grin.gif /forums/images/graemlins/grin.gif