In my old age, I have come to realize our physical condition has a dramatic effect on our dreaming. Last night my unpredictable C-PAP machine had to be running well because I was in REM sleep and dreaming often. In my younger days, before my physical condition started to deteriorate, my dream patterns were different. I spent a lot of time dreaming about a sweet young thing who knew how to light my fire, without much kindling. There were plenty of sparks at times. In later years golf occupied my dream time. You might say golf was my second love.

One early golf highlight was when my two brothers Corky and Harlan, and I went to the state Junior Golf tournament. We all qualified to go but had no way to get there. Dr. Mickelson from Watertown drove us to Webster so we could play in the competition. That was a kind and generous gesture on his part.

One golf memory was about being stationed in Japan. I was the only enlisted man on our squadron golf team. I was the crew chief on a plane, so I had a close relationship with most pilots. They wanted me on the golf team because I played a good game of golf at that time. I played in one tournament and won first place in the first flight, with a sub-par round. That course had one par four that was 320 yards long. I got so pumped up over that round I drove the green but then went on to three-putt it. I was still sub-par on the last nine holes.

Another golf event was playing in Hawaii with my brother in law David Bowers. That was the most beautiful golf course I have ever played.

The last round of golf that I played was here on our local golf course at Lake Poinsett about thirty years ago with my son-in-law Phil Erickson. My balance was already getting bad at that time, so I could not play golf very well. I ended up in the sand trap on the last hole. When I blasted out of that sand, the ball just about went into the hole to Phil’s surprise and my shock and amazement. My golf career ended with a good shot and somewhat of a happy note. The memories linger.

In recent years I’ve had the same golf dream repeated over and over. It’s on a course that I do not recognize, playing with three people I do not know. The golf must be abysmal because the shots don’t get remembered or recorded, but I play a complete round with them.

This morning I was still standing on the tee box, and the three golfers teed off, and we’re halfway down the fairway. They all stopped and looked back to see what I was doing. I just stood there and cannot describe my feelings at that time. I don’t feel I want to know the meaning of that dream.

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