Golf for Dummies

I climbed the stairs at 1911 Main Street. It was up there that Valley Isle Answering Service was located. It was a mom and pop sort of operation. The pop of the business was a guy by the name of Roger Tavaris. He was a round ball of a guy who never wore slippers and seemed to sweat perpetually. A friend had introduced me to Roger. I was in need of a book keeper and Roger did that on the side. There he was, feet up on the switchboard, red lights blinking and he mumbling one thing or another into his headset. A half eaten white bread sandwich was lying on the floor and a wire basket filled with crumpled paper sat in the corner. "Hey, could ya take over for me? I need to use the Lua." He set me at his position and said, "look if a light comes on plug this cord in and say, answering service, please hold." "Answering, answering, answering." He returned to a jumble of cords and rapidly flashing lights. Just then his wife walked in. "Hey hon gotta talk to Charles." He laughed, "good job!" We moved down the hall to the office. It was a windowless place with mounds of paper and an antique adding machine. I don't know how but he seemed to know where everything was. He pulled my file from the middle of a stack. "Let me see, oh yes sign here. Write a check for seven hundred twenty two dollars. That will keep Uncle Sam happy." Behind his desk there was a framed Dali poster. We were standing there looking at it as Andy walked in. "You know why I like Dali? It's his attention to detail, Andy howz' it?" "Great. You guys going to Sir Tilford's today?" Now Andy is this car salesman sort of guy, fast talking and always making a deal. Sir Tilford's was this coffee, cigar store in the Maui Mall. The three of us met up there and were greeted by a couple of fast one liners from Sir Tilford himself. We moved to our regular table outside with coffee and cigars. Watching the traffic was always pleasant. Andy was talking about his golf game. "Ya know, Charles, you should join us and play." "My uncle Howie is a golf fanatic. As a kid I'd go with him sometimes in the Bronx." "Well Tilford, me and this other guy Simon play at Waiehu and you would make us a foursome." "Oh, I'll think on it." Andy got up from our table and went back inside. Upon returning he said he had just called and had set up a 7AM tee time for the next day. A couple of battered carts, two coolers of beer, four fine cigars, an assortment of unmatched clubs we teed off. That was the start of my golfing adventure. The beginning was hooks, slices, and countless strokes. The best of the day was the clubhouse with lots more beer and pupus. I was buying most of the rounds. I stupidly bet on my game. Even having a handicap added up to a losing wager. For some time I stayed in the hundred thirty range. With time and occasional hints and tips my game improved. I became a regular and our group was always put on the book by the starter way ahead of time. We were golfing three to four days each week. The course being a County one, was slightly rough on the edges, down the middle and around the cup. The replacing of divots was rather tricky guesswork. Wind swept from Kahului harbor directly across the front nine, The back nine were laid out along the cliffs. The whole place is a hazard. As Maui grew as the tourist destination so did an array of pro designed golf courses appear. When we were bucks up we would spring for the Kamaina rates of about fifty bucks and play the manicured links. Waiehu was our country club and the beer prices were better.