Today was going to be a great day. I was going to write about the majesty of walking on Pebble Beach the other day. A property that my feet had never felt and the love at first feel I had. I will put a ball in the air there some day, I have to. I was going to write about Tiger. As the media and the golf world try to figure out what’s wrong with him, I look at what’s right. Tiger shot the biggest number of his career in Scottsdale two weeks ago and did the interview afterwards, even made a joke. I think he’s found some kind of peace in his personal bubble and that’s greatness. He’s won over 100 worldwide events. He gets a break in my mind. I was going to write a response to the vaccine debate that rages on the internet but never face to face. We choose to vaccinate because we were vaccinated as children and did not obtain any life threatening infectious diseases. I don’t have brain damage or Autism. I’m not sure what the real answer to this is. I do know there is passion on both sides. I was going to write a piece damning political parties. If a person has a good idea it shouldn’t matter his party affiliation but for some fucking reason it still does. I was going to write a paragraph or two about people that complain too much about meaningless bullshit. ” My product that I payed way too much money for doesn’t work properly.” ” I’m having a bad hair day.” “People that don’t punctuate properly bother me.” “I don’t like music the kids listen too.” “I don’t get it.” blah, blah, blah, blah. Quit your fucking bitching. If you are writing something on a computer your life is better than most of the population of the world. Or is it? It was going to be a great day.

Yesterday afternoon I learned about the passing of a little girl. She was very young, under 5 I believe. My friend Alan is one of the bravest and most resilient people I have ever met. He picked up his life a few years ago and moved to Asia. Alan is a golfer like me and he is from New Mexico. I can’t imagine some of the culture shock differences he went through. After awhile he found a passion, caddying on the various Asian Tours. He went through a few different players, as caddies do, and finally found a bag and a player that he has been with for about a year. At some point Alan met a nice woman in Thailand and fell in love with her and her little girl. It is my understanding that when together Alan and “Pink” were inseparable, like two peas. I believe that she loved him like he was her father. Alan had finally found something, something that only those that have found it understand. Maybe it’s because I’m a father now to a little girl but this story has left me heart broken today. I wish I was there with you Al. I wish I could give you a hug. I wish I could make it somehow make sense. I can’t and I feel devastated for your loss. I love you bud and I hope you know that Stephanie and I are thinking about you. You always have a place in our lives.

I will write about those other trivial things at a later date. Hug your kids. If they’re older, call them and tell them you love them. Cancer is wicked and doesn’t care about who you are. I am so sick of writing about the damage it inflicts.