THERE'S NEVER BEEN ANY REASON

why I don't like to wear socks. It started when I was in high school. A neighbor friend of mine who was two years older and a whole lot more hip started not wearing them with his penny loafers. Oh, he didn't begin the trend; he just followed it a lot sooner than my other friends. Until then I was a white sock wearer. Even with dress pants.

So maybe I started not wearing socks to combat my bad fashion sense pre-neighbor chic sockless with loafers. Who knows? As I said, there's never been any reason. Well, except my body temp runs a little higher than most and so I don't need socks for the warmth unless it's really cold.

I've worn out about a half dozen golf sandals, but I don't wear them anymore. Unless I find a pair with some other sole than black which really rubs off on my feet. And they are hot in the warm Arizona sun. The black, almost rubber inner soles, I mean.

So I scour the shoe stores for dress sandals to wear to church. That's right, even in church, you won't find socks on my feet very often. Practically the only socks that I own that aren't the short white ones for golf are Christian socks, I'll call them, with crosses or fish on them. They look much better than they sound.

I think our daughter wore them and an old girlfriend or two of our son's while in high school. Not the Christian socks, but they wore fancy socks where they had to stick each individual toe in a separate slot, like gloves. I know my wife had a pair or two. It took her hours to get those on. Just kidding about the time part. But why would they go to that hassle? And it would hurt me to stretch my toes out like that and then have to walk around in them.

I did receive an injury last week relating to socks. While trying to stretch my size 10 into a little tight golf sock, my hand flew off the sock and struck the tile, bringing blood and a gouge to my index finger. So there. I've found a reason not to wear socks. I wonder if they were made in China?

AMBIS

or ambees. I have known one, and heard of a few guys who could throw the baseball with either hand. The guy I knew was 10 and he wasn't too hot right handed, but it impressed me and his coach.

I once putted nine holes left handed, but I went back to righty the next round. Of course, I also tried the claw grip. I improvised once in a little tournament and tried the one handed claw. Until I missed a two footer. Somehow you look a whole lot dumber when you miss one like that using the one handed claw grip. Now I go back and forth on the regular or crosshand, but I think I'm digressing just a bit about ambidexterity.

I do shave the left side of my face with my left hand and the right with my right. Except for some left handed wiffle ball hitting, I'm a solid righty in everything else. But it's all about practice. I'm sure people could be more ambi if they tried.

Now, I've never heard of anyone writing right or left. Except for necessity because of a break. And I've never heard of any artists who were like that. Renoir strapped a paint brush to his feet after rheumatism crippled him and I've heard of others who could write or draw that way, but I've never heard of an ambidextrous artist.

I wonder why?

GOLF BUDDIES

Have I been blessed over the years with golfing buddies! I never played with these two pictured, but I did follow Arnie, Jack, and Gary Player once around the course. At least for awhile. They put on quite a show to quite a gallery.

At the risk of omission, I list the following as golfing buddies through the years and apologize to those I omitted: Larry, Russ, Caroline--my best, Ron, Ron, Ron, Jim, Nealy, Bruce, Randy, Will, Bob, Charlie, Mike, Gary, Rex, Sam, Rip, Ben, Mike, Virgil, Scott, Courtney, Donnie, Sonny, Bob, Pastor Tom, Pastor Jason, Pastor Rob, Charlie, Scott, Red, Gene, Bill, Bill, Amelia, Dave, Joann, Carol, Doug, Griff, Brad, Lee Ann, Bob, Jason, Joe, Mike, Michael, Nelson, Tommy, Tom, Bill, Nida. Bill, Glenda, And a lot of others including Dave and Joe yesterday, along with Jeff, one of my regular Wednesday partners. I have had so much fun over the years playing the game that'll drive you crazy.

Mostly I'm a bogey golfer. A 14-16 handicap is what I've played at for most of my adult life. My low round ever was a 68 at what I call my home course, Green Hills. Right after that, my handicap dropped to an 8, but I'm not even close to that nowdays. I'm just as likely to shoot a 53 on a 9, than a 35. While I don't recall that disparity, I do remember many 35s followed by a 45 or vice versa. Most all of those on my AZ home course Starfire.

When I travel, I hate to check luggage. Even on a 10-day cruise this year, I talked my wife into taking fewer clothes so we wouldn't have to check luggage. So I don't take my clubs. I have a set at our daughter's and use my son's or friends when in MTV (Mt. Vernon, Illinois--that explanation is for loyal reader Kathryn). I used to use Sam's or Mike's when I was in MTV. They both had graphite shafts, whereas I had the old steel ones. And I couldn't hit theirs well at all.

Then as if someone turned on the lights (a pessimist would write shut off the lights) I started hitting the graphites better. Buddy Jeff is a club maker and he reshafted me with new graphites on my old heads. What a difference! The game is not grueling anymore. I'll never see 68 again, well in a decade I'll see a different 68, and I know that my short-lived 8 handicap was an aberration even back then; but golf is fun again. A 44, 39 yesterday at a tough course has me pumped again. Until I tee it up tomorrow and wonder where my game went. Golf's like that, you know.

I HATE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS AT A CROWDED POOL

You know. We've all been there. Summer skorcher. Lots of people. High dive. And you're off. Twisting and turning. A half, then full gainer. All of a sudden as you're ready to enter the water in a perfect finish, little splash, smooth entry, dive deep. And someone is in your way. Actually two someone's, but you only make contact with one.

Ok, so I've never done that. I've had enough needles in my chest and belly from uncompleted dives off the low board never to attempt the high dive. Not even feet first, my favorite diving position.

But this picture made me think of one last day of Summer. Before the school year started. Before all that routine of Summer that you had practiced for so long came to a sudden halt. Oh, you could adapt to new schedules, new people, new situations, but it wasn't Summer. You were on somebody else's clock.

And you were ready to renew. New friendships, new relationships, new beginnings. That lasted about two weeks, before you thought back to the freedom of Summer. Even on those days and nights of not finding anybody around. You drove and drove looking for something, somebody, but the possibilites were endless. Just around the corner could be Suzanne Somers in her white T-Bird. Or the evil Pharoahs. But anything was better than a wasted Summer night. But were any of them wasted?

Just listening to music. Just reflecting on the past. Remember the dive? The one you never took. Maybe next Summer. Yeah, that's the ticket. Next Summer. It'll be even better.

THIS PHOENIX COULDN'T RISE AGAIN

Well actually they're called Arizona DBax, but as the Bard said, "What's in a name"? Swept by the Rockies. Can you say en fuego? Unbelievable run the Rocks are on. But how can you dislike them? They're unassuming, seemingly ego-less. A team that took all by surprise with outstanding defense and unheralded pitching.

Hopefully the Cleveland team can be their worthy opponents. Two Midwest, fresh teams without huge payrolls. That sounds nice to me. Much to the displeasure of my nephew-in-law (is there such an animal?) a Boston fan, I had to enjoy seeing the Dice-Man get knocked around and take yesterday's loss. I mean he only cost the Sox $150 mil. I have trouble with that.

But I've been too negative On the QT lately, so I'll emphasize the positive aspect of having two non-media darlings vying for the world championship. To boot, one was a Wild Card entry. Oh well.

Somehow, Bowie Kuhn (I know, I promised to be positive) images of his wearing short sleeves in a World Series game in late October come to mind. He was trying to act as if baseball being played in late, late October was no problem. Of course, this season if the Series goes the full seven games, it will end on November 1. Now, that's just sick. Not sick as in cool, either. (I just can't be positive, can I?)

Anyhow, thanks for the season Arizona. Lots of young guns looking towards next season. Young, Drew, Upton, Reynolds, Owings, Hudson--that's a lot of youth. Now if ownership adds two pitchers and two power hitters winning could become a habit in the desert. But I have a feeling they'll still just be my second favorite team.

MOANER LISER

I've seen the Mona Lisa in the Louvre. I had to wait awhile. In 1995 when I was there, people could still take pictures of the old girl. Why I wondered at the time? Aren't there plenty of pictures of her readily available? Wouldn't the glare from the protective clear covering cause distortion?

Then I quit wondering. I mean what's so great about that picture anyhow? Now I know my old Art Appreciation instructor from junior college would be having a fit. He taught me better. I do love art. But I think I have a right to like what I like and dislike what I don't understand. Let me get this straight: I appreciate Da Vinci, but I don't see what all the fuss is over Mona.

Take this picture of the female on the right for instance. What if we posed the same questions about it. What is she doing with that mouth? Is it suppressing a smile? Is she being coy? What about that curl over her right eye? Is it hiding an imperfection? How did she get it mussed? Was it done purposely? Was there a tussle? See what I mean?

I don't care for a lot of Shakespeare. Or Mark Twain. Picasso? Some, but most leave me confused. I addressed opera in an earlier blog. Hey, maybe I have no class. Hey maybe I'm not cultured? Oh well, I know what I like and I like what I know. Or what can inspire me to think and study. Or relax and enjoy. I think I'm just too laid back and too honest.

OPERA IS TOO MUCH FOR ME

Although I've never been to one. I kinda like to play that category on Jeopardy. Oop, I take that back. I saw a high school friend of our son's, an opera major in college, in an opera at SIU. It was Othello. I know, Othello's a play, but this was the opera version and it was good.

I almost saw one in Russia. We saw a ballet at an opera house in St. Petersburg. It wasn't so good. Oh, I could appreciate the athleticism, the musical talent, even if I didn't know the language. The movement, the costumes were also good, but it was much too long and I couldn't follow the plot much.

In Grisham's new book, Playing for Pizza, he talks a lot about Italian opera and I got interested again. But I doubt that I'll go out and try to buy a ticket for any too soon. Unless someone tells me what the lady is doing in her aria wearing the ram or viking horns. That may appear in only one scene of La Bohemme, but I never said I was good in that Jeopardy category.

Later this month we're going to San Diego to see a play at The Old Globe Theatre. It starts at 8:00. Maybe that's why I don't care for opera. It starts too late for me. By 8:00 PM I'm winding down. That's jammy time. I can't even read at that late hour; heck, I fall asleep on commercials if I'm not careful. So to begin an opera that late, after a late dinner (defined: any time after 5:45) then my mind is in shut down mode. Plus, now I have to follow a plot in an unknown language. The Fox in St. Lou used to have a Sunday matinee. Maybe that's it--The Fox, afternoon opera. Now how could they show sub-titles?

"ACTION!"

Our son is an attorney. Before that he was an actor. Well, somewhat. His most famous part to date is Earthquake McGoon in a high school production of 'Lil Abner. Now, I know I'm opening myself up for disagreement with him.

He would probably say some of the plays he has written and performed in at church were more demanding and better acted. Just last Christmas he was Joseph and did a great job.

He's also acted in Pyramid Players, a local theatre group in Southern Illinois and was quite good in Barefoot in the Park. So he has had some experience on stage. But to me, his portrayal of Earthquake, a wrestler, was tops. In fact it was one of the very best high school operettas in MTV's storied history dating back 60 years or so. Now, I didn't see them all, but I saw over half of them, so that makes me somewhat of an unbiased reviewer. As I said, somewhat.

One day just a few years ago, our son was making an Indie movie with director Ben Hall, former neighbor and friend. Scott was playing the part of a man killed just outside of a movie theatre. Lying on the street covered with blood, he heard a woman driver stop her car near him. She came running to him. He got up and calmly explained to her that they were simply shooting a movie.

"Well, sh##," she yelled at him and stormed off.

"Would she have rather it been real?" he pondered.