The recline of western civilization

Who says there are no surprises left? I can't even believe I'm saying this, but I want one.

First of all, it's a chair that's named after me: La-Z-Boy. BAM! Thanks, I'll be here all week. Tip your waitress.

Actually here's what happened. My mother-in-law desperately wanted a recliner so she could fall asleep comfortably while watching either golf or Wheel of Fortune. In a completely unselfish act of kindness and a blatant attempt to score marriage points, I told her I'd be happy to take her recliner shopping. I promptly proceeded to put it off for weeks, but we finally went this past weekend.

I'll swear I heard the angel's choir as I opened the showroom door.

Entering the store was like walking into a room filled with clouds I could just float away on. Seriously, I must've tried at least fifteen more chairs than she did. Granted she's 92-years old, but I don't know how you can resist those chairs.

And just so you know, these aren't your father's recliners. They have power everything. They're heated. They give you a relaxing massage. And that's just the salesperson! (You've been a great crowd...)

My mother-in-law finally landed on a nice burgundy number that'll look just swell in her room. So basically she's about 6-8 weeks out from me visiting her a lot more often.

In a conversation with the wife I casually brought up the idea of getting a recliner. She casually brought up the idea of me getting a second wife.

So for now, I'll just have to be content to fall asleep in our comfy reading chairs, neither of which have a footrest or recline. But don't worry. I have a choose-the-lesser-evil strategy to get what I want, and I'll be taking a second run at the wife soon.

I don't want to give everything away here, but let's just say it involves the word "minivan".

What a putts

I don't play golf. I've tried, but I can't. It seems like a monumental waste of time. And land. And money.

Besides, if I want to wear plaid shorts with striped shirts there are plenty of other places I can do it.

The picture to the left is part of the route I take when I'm out walking with my German Sheperd. Have a closer look at it. I'm fortunate to live in a neighborhood with some pretty nice manicured lawns, but even this struck me as a little much. See the cups?

Apparently what my idiot neighbor (and if you've been following this blog you know the place is lousy with them) did was go out and spend money to have a miniature golf course/putting green put on his front lawn.

I know what you're thinking: at least he didn't put flags out. You know what I'm thinking?

Let me direct your attention to exhibit B.

On the lawn immediately in front of his house, he has two holes with flags. I don't know what to make of any of it.

My first thought is I wonder if he followed the same procedure every other resident has to follow and cleared it with the homeowner's association. Come to find out he didn't (which would also explain the dolphin sculpture and the flagpole that aren't pictured here).

On the heels of that I think, well, it's his house and if he wants to he can. Which of course he can't. That's why there's a homeowner's association.

Then I think, wow, at least this guy didn't do something so stupid and boneheaded like putting in a sand trap.

Oh, wait a minute.

Let me direct your attention to exhibit C.

If the guy wanted to put a miniature course on his property, he should have put it on his property. Technically the street-side parkway belongs to the city, and they get really pissy when they don't have a say in what you do to their property. Or when they don't get paid a waiver fee so you can do it.

They're just funny that way.

I have a lot of friends, good friends, intelligent people that I respect that play golf often and enjoy it. But they have the good taste to do it on a course at a club, not on their front lawn.

I think I have to agree with Robin Williams: golf is a giant joke being played on everyone who plays it.

So I'll keep walking my dog past this house, smiling to myself at the idiocy of it all.

And taking a small bit of satisfaction in the fact that even if my dog can't play golf, there are other things he can do on this guy's course.

This clip has language that may not be suitable for the youngsters.