This is the time of the year when Sunday evening's TV programming is dependent upon how long it takes the golfers to come up with a winner. It doesn't matter how long a period the network allows in the schedule – it is going to take an extra half hour or so to complete the rounds. I have been asked so often why I do not play golf, that I finally decided to write the true story of my brief career in the game. T here is a saying that only a thin line separates comedy from tragedy. The way I played golf could be classified as either one depending upon your point of view. Be that as it may, I believe the way my golfing career ended is a good example of the close relationship between the two. About 1960, at the urging of some of my fellow employees, I decided to try my hand at golf, so I bought a cheap set of clubs and went out each Saturday to develop my game. At first I thought my terrible playing was simply because I was a beginner, but as time went on and I showed little...
My alarm clock goes off every morning at eight, except for the few times when I have a breakfast date. Usually I wake up about an hour before that, or at least I partly wake up. It is important that I remain in a “not quite awake but not quite asleep” state, because I consider that time as the germination period for whatever seeds happen to have blown into my head.