I CAN'T CLICK PAST THE BUNDYS

Caddyshack, American Graffiti, James Bond, The Simpsons, and now Married With Children. When I have control of the remote, which is close to 100% of the time, and by the way, that's the way it's supposed to be--it may be the last bastion, but men should always control the remote, and no, I'm not doing an Al Bundy impression. But I digress. When I control the remote, I have to stop to watch just a little of this tv show.

Al is a tragic hero. And while I may root for him, thinking that Al deserves a break once in awhile, I know somehow the other shoe (pun) will drop and he will be in misery again. Peg, well, she's my least favorite: she's just not too believable. I liked it better when she spent time in Wanker County. (See, I did watch it a lot.) Kelly, well, so much for believability, but at least she was funny. Somehow, the innuendoes seemed to be less harmful for some reason. I didn't care so much for the hoots (pun, again) directed her way from the male dominated audience in the later seasons. Bud, poor Bud. At least Kelly had a guy. Any guy. But all Bud had was the blow up rubber woman doll. Pathos for him.

Chicken Marcie and Jefferson were great. Remember him in The Revenge of the Nerds? Wow, I really need to get an entertainment viewing life. Maybe I do need to lose control of the remote. Maybe I need to elevate my standards for what makes good viewing. More Masterpiece Theatre and Allister Cook stuff. More of The History Channel and National Geographic.

Naugh. Al's classy enough for me. I never knew anyone that scored 4 touchdowns in a football game. I think I'll see if my wife wants to go see Basic Instinct II with me.

FLEMING'S BEST

I've spent a chunk of weekends watching some James Bond marathons. Or film festivals. But that's not surprising. I'm not a big movie lover. But there are some I can't miss. And James Bond is one of them.

Goldfinger stands above all the rest. I don't know if it is Shirley Bassey's haunting song, Miss Galore's colorful name (I still don't know how that survived the censors back in the mid-sixties), the cool villians (not a lot of Bonds had more than one per show, but a few of the bad guys to do the dirty work stood out). But that crazy Top Job with that top hat was down right scarey. Who'd a thunk a hat could be such a weapon?

It might have simply been Sean Connery at his best. He was James Bond. As valiently as Moore, Bronson, and others tried to be Bond, they were mere shadows. It would be like trying to replace Miss Moneypenny.

For those of us who actually read Fleming, Goldfinger was tops. I'm so glad there was never a Goldfinger II.

SLAPPY AND THE STINKERS

So who are they and what are they doing? Not a clue. But when I found this picture, it made me think of the Cardboard Regatta that SIU used to have every Spring. I once had a student teacher who lived for the chance to try to make it across Campus Lake in a vessel made entirely of nothing more than cardboard. Oh, some made it across. Once a graduating class or so, but most collapsed from poor design or poor sailsmanship.

And of course, I was reminded of my Dead Sea experience last week. The Dead Sea, so called because in are no living organisms. It used to be called the Salt Sea in ancient times because of the overabundance of salt. In fact once you get past a few rocks on the bottom, the rest is pure salt, not sand. If you have a cut or even a small abrasion, the Sea is kind enough to let you know how intense it is.

Because of time constraints we were forced into the water just around 7:00 am. Even in the desert of Israel and at the lowest point on earth, the Dead Sea was cold with the sun just making a lowly appearance. Two people were there along with two lifeguards in their Baywatch stand. Why, I'll never know. It is so salient that even a suicide victim could not drown him/herself because he/she would be bobbing back up. But the other two were New Englanders who simply floated and laughed at the 4 of us in the water for the first time: Caroline, Courtney, Dr. Alpers from ASU, and the biggest chicken in the group--me. It wasn't that I was so scared as that I was so cold. In addition, when I'm in the water I like to have some control.

The Dead Sea had other ideas. "Just fall back," Courtney advised. As I did my feet rose immediately and I went into the float. "Pretty neat," I thought till I tried to right myself and do it again. I couldn't do it. Laughter from the New England couple who though it funny in the first place when I was so cold. It was like a spa to them. After relaxing more and not fighting it, I could erect myself again. I'm sure to the displeasure of the New England sadists. I pictured them there all morning laughing their heads off at the poor souls who hit the Sea and reacted in a strange way. They even laughed when Dr. Alpers talked about how oily the water was as she poured some on her arm.

I wonder if they were paid employees like the lifeguards. They were no more necessary than the guards. Just window dressing. Kinda like all the partygoers at the Cardboard Regatta back in the Midwest. Just there to watch you fail and laugh at you. Oh well. It was still a blast. Especially watching Courtney enjoy it so much doing log rolls over and over again. She could have stayed there all day. That's because nobody was laughing at her. Had she gone to SIU, she wouldn't have cared that her boat sunk, in fact, she'd probably help it along. You'd think she was from New England.

THE BOY

Some called him E-Bay for his penchant of ordering golf clubs for an improved game. Hack called him The Little Fellow, although I'm not sure why. McClure and I simply called him The Boy.

He should have been teeing it up on a Florida or perhaps Arizona golf course today. Or maybe at his favorite course, Green Hills Country Club. Oh, the weather wouldn't have stopped him this time of year. Actually, on most times of the year. He was the last person to hit a golf ball in the last century at Green Hills. I saw it. I was with him. In six inches of snow. He and McClure and I on New Year's Eve. Although Mike's tee shot farther than ours, nobody enjoyed it more than The Boy.

He might have been playing with his wife today, but I doubt it. It would probably have been too cold. It could have been Rip who would want to know what logo he was displaying on his sweater, sleeveless most likely. It might have been Virgil who would have told an old familiar tale that he had heard a hundred times. But The Boy would laugh. Again. As he had done so many times before over so many others stories. He would have added a few, too, perhaps with some embellishment. It might have been Donnie. Such a nice man, but then The Boy had a way to draw nice guys around him. Rex and Ben would have sat today out. But they, too, enjoyed his company. As did Larry, Carl, Cort, and other Men's League partners. And of course, me.

We played a lot of golf together. But never enough. Never too much. I looked forward to his coming out to Arizona so we could play some more expensive courses. He loved to have a good time and play some of the really nice ones. The Boy loved to play in Hawaii. With Carol. He felt so good when she hit a great shot. He loved the Disney courses and Sawgrass where he teed it up on the driving range with Vijay.

He loved life. He loved good food, family, good friends, laughter, and a ton of other things including good music. He kept in touch with former high school buds and was as loyal a friend as a person could have. He was sincere when he asked how someone's kids were, as he often did.

Today is The Boy's birthday. He would be 60 now. Somehow though that's not right. For some people 60 might be old, yet not for him. But if Stan Musial is The Man, then Sam Hicks is and will always be The Boy. Even though we can't enjoy our golf game quite so much since he's not around. We still love you, man.

BACK FROM A GREAT TRIP

What do you say, where do you start when you talk about a trip to the Holy Land? After 10 days and two very lengthy plane rides, I hit the Arizona soil about an hour ago.

If you ever get a chance to go, please don't pass it up. Getting (re) baptised in the Jordan River, floating in the Dead Sea, boat riding on the Sea of Galilee, riding a camel (for too long) near Jericho, seeing the birthplace of Jesus in Bethlehem, seeing and standing in the dungeon where Our Lord was imprisoned before His trial, standing on stairs that led to a temple where Jesus went, standing at the Mount of Olives and walking down the way Jesus went on a donkey, walking the walk on the Via Dolorosa where Jesus was forced to carry His cross, taking communion in the Garden Tomb. Well, you see what I mean.

And while I didn't sample these bagels pictured, I ate early and often in Israel. Twenty-six of us, led by our pastor and his wife and former pastor made the trip. I took along wife and daughter, but time commitments tied Scott close to home. Most were from our church or Caroline's BSF leaders. We became closer as a result of the experience.

And when our bus entered the city where we spent four nights and we could see the gates of the city lit up, it was awesome to hear "Jerusalem, Jerusalem" coming from the speakers of our bus.