Back home in the Redneck Rivera for some rest and relaxation and more importantly some home made Indian food. You are probably asking yourself what do Native Americans eat, well it is not those kind of Indians. There are Indians in the panhandle? Well I guess, though I do not know any. Indian food is what white kids make when they try and relive the experiences they have in foreign places. But I digress. During my trip I got to return to scene of the crime and by crime I refer to inspiration for the worst seven minutes of video ever created, golf movie. The Fort Walton Beach municipal golf course, containing two 18 hole courses. This weekends outing was mostly uneventful expect for being paired up with some guy who talked and talked about how much he played only to be followed by why he was not playing good. I think his name was Ed and can visit him at his place of employment the Black Angus restaurant. As exciting as it may seem to hang with Ed, he pales in comparison to the last time we played this Oaks course. So there we are driving up to our balls on the 10th hole of the Oaks course when all of a sudden golf balls are being hit into us. We look back to see some old guy waiving a driver at us. Unsure what we had done we decided it would be best to just let them play through. We tee off on the 11th hole and wait for them to pass us. A few minutes pass and then we hear a caravan of golf carts flying down the cart path towards us, with the old man leading the way. When he gets to 11th tee he does not stop he just keeps coming up to us. Finally he slows down next us and just looks at us and says “You guys are messing up the tra la la!” and speeds off followed by his cohorts. I sure hope I am surely as that guy when I am 70.
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