Hit and Hustle-The Trials and Tribulations Of Sand-Bagger Johnson

Hit and Hustle-The Trials and Tribulations Of Sand-Bagger Johnson

 

“You know we seem to have been on these Interstate 4 for everything we have been trying to do down here, I bet Disney had the government construct the damn thing as a favor to them because there was no for having part of the Interstate run through this swampland in the interest of national defense which was the original purpose Grandfather Ike had the damn system constructed for. You know to make a quick escape from the cities, if and when, the Russkies decided to drop the big one. No way they would have been interested in sending back Orlando to the Stone Age or is it forward to the Stone Age,” babbled a semi-coherent Sand-Bagger Johnson to no one in particular from the confines of the back seat of the van Jerry Jeff was driving this darkest hour before the dawn as they headed to Celebration, the town and the golf course. This was to be the last of the six rounds in four days that he and his companions, Jerry Jeff, Roger the Dodger and Earl the Pearl were to embrace upon in their whirlwind golf package deal in the wilds of Orlando. The course in front of them according to Jerry Jeff was the one course of the six that would seem like a New England course that the four were used to playing and Sand-Bagger was anxious to get there and see for himself. (He was also anxious because as usual for the better part of his adult life now he would get in a private having a whirl when he was rushed for time as he would be in to catch the flight back to New England that he, and Roger the Dodger, would be taking quite soon after the expected finish of the round.)

“How long will it take us to get there, get to Celebration, and what were they celebrating in this God forsaken place,” he then chirped out to Roger the Dodger in particular since he had acted as navigator for the duration having the only Smartphone with GPS among the four. “Oh about twenty-five minutes according to Sissy,” Roger chuckled back. Sissy the name for the female voice that was giving them directions on the phone who was as often wrong as right in her directions for some reason. The chuckle was in recognition of a standing joke between the four that every place they wanted to go from their golf package-provided townhouse in Champion-gate was about twenty-five minutes to one half an hour. There must have been some “plot” hatched to make that time period to get anywhere so, probably by some whizz kid at Disney who figured that a carload of antsy kids could only last that amount of time before arriving at some vast parking lot at some expensive theme park to “enjoy” the day the current theory etched out the previous night under the influence of a few drinks while waiting endlessly waiting for a table at the pub they were going to eat at, Jaxx’s which actually was pretty good.

As the sky began to barely get lighter when the van full of golfers entered Celebration, the town Jerry Jeff mentioned that on his prior trip he had noticed that the magnificent houses along and around course were an eclectic mix of architectural styles from Tennessee Williams’ decadent southern slave-owner mansion to Federal period (you know Bullfinch) to Gothic and all in between. What was missing from the landscape was that Florida Modern that had its heyday around the time of Miami Vice drug lord housing as if this was to be an oasis away from endless strip mall modern that had infected almost every place passed during the previous series of twenty-five to thirty minute sojourn s through Central swamp Florida.

Surprisingly the course for the most part was as advertised by Jerry Jeff as a throw-back New England course with plenty of trees bordering each hole (mostly absent in dredged from the swamp Orlando), with the exception of the 17^th hole which had the menacing name of Alligator Run-and deserved that reputation. A nice transition course back to New England reality.      

But enough of Sissy, architectural designs, and monsters from the swamp Casey wants his summary. Tough day for the Bagger, twin losses across the board to both Jerry Jeff and the Dodger. Lost too to the Pearl for the booby prize putting contest. Here’s the kicker though-when the Bagger asked the Dodger how long it would take to get to the vast Orlando airport complex he said, well, you know what he said. And that said it all about Central Florida golf.