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Some people spend their Fourth of July weekend at picnics, grilling dogs, watching fireworks. Our family, the same one that on Thanksgiving has been known to roast a whole suckling pig on a spit over an open fire instead of turkey, chooses to play a punishing 54 holes of golf over a two day period. This course was the most expensive course I've ever played at. The telltale marker of a nice course is that the greens are wicked and the fairways swallow a lot of balls. But for that kind of money I expect a full body rubdown with a complimentary martini waiting for you at the clubhouse. While golfing may seem like an elite activity, especially when you're forking over a couple of benjamins just to be hitting a little white ball into sand traps, I realize that it's actually a game of the masses as evidenced by the severe redneck tans that we were all sporting by the end of the day. Pass me a chicken wing and a PBR. For most people, golfing also inspires a good dose of humility. All except for my normally self-effacing brother who saw this photo and said to me "Look, perfect stance, perfect backswing, perfect form. There's not a single thing wrong with this picture." I guess all those years of therapy finally paid off.
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