We got in the next day at eleven, A red-eye to reach golfer heaven. We’re in Myrtle beach With [...]]]> Getting to Myrtle Beach from the San Francisco Bay area is such a pain. It’s two legs minimum and this year a red-eye in order to use frequent flyer miles. Of course, once we’re there, all is forgiven…

We got in the next day at eleven,
A red-eye to reach golfer heaven.
We’re in Myrtle beach
With my first round a peach,
I carded a seventy-seven.

Myrtle Beach is all about golfing and drinking, and drinking and golfing, and golfing and drinking, and…you get the picture…

We don’t play for applause or the cheers
But instead, the music to our ears,
Is popping the top
Outside the snack shop
On a fresh, new iced bag-o-beers.

For some reason, Myrtle Beach always brings out the theatrics in Jeff. This year it was a bitter dispute with a hybrid…

It soared thru the air with such height
‘Tis a shame it was such a short flight.
But clubs cannot fly
And I heard no good-bye
As it splashed and then sunk out of sight.

Mike’s last putter lesson from Stevie paid big dividends in Myrtle although we also suspect his Dad’s unfailing attendance at church…

Mike’s putter this week was on fire
As if from a new found desire.
But always there’s mention
Of divine intervention,
Was it Stevie or someone else higher?

Thanks to Mark who suggested this topic. I’m quite proud of this one…

First Tiger and Hank had a breakup
And then Mike and Joey, a shakeup.
But when Jeff said good-bye
To his bottle of Skyy,
He just bought another to makeup.