Hazmat Suit Golf

Okay, so I haven’t yet gone quite this far for sun protection on the links. But I have learned to embrace wearing long pants and a long sleeve shirt when playing eighteen holes in the middle of the day, because it can take quite a while at the Geezer Golf League’s rather geriatric pace of play. One of the side benefits I’ve discovered is that if you spend as much time as I do looking for your (or your slicing partner’s) ball in dense scrub oak or tall native grasses, you tend to finish the round with a lot fewer cuts and abrasions from the course flora. And the truth is that my golfer tan lines of days gone by were never that cool of a look. So be careful out there, because you really don’t want to be a primary source of college tuition for your dermatologist’s and oncologist’s kids, do you?

With my sincerest apologies to Bon Jovi, I’ll sign off with the Hotel Melanoma rendition of “Wanted Dead or Alive”…



It's all the same, only the games will change
Every day it seems we're playing in rays
A ‘southern’ pace when the faces are so old
I'd drive ball right just to get back home

I'm a pale boy, on the ‘screened horse I ride
I'm haunted, red or alive
Haunted, red or alive

Some lies are deep, sometimes I’m stuck for days
And the Precepts I beat always go their leftward ways
Sometimes you tell the day
By the golf club that you plink
And times when pars are lone all you do is drink

I'm a pale boy, on the ‘screened horse I ride
I'm haunted, red or alive
Haunted, red or alive

I walk these greens, a load of Srixons in my bag
I play for keeps, 'cause I might not make it back
I been everywhere, and I'm stranding balls
Doc’s seen a million places and I've ‘blocked them all

I'm a pale boy, on the ‘screened horse I ride
I'm haunted, red or alive
I'm a pale boy, I got the white on my hide
I'm haunted, red or alive
And my hide’s red or alive
I drill drive, red or alive
Red or alive
Red or alive
Red or alive
Red or alive