Jack on the Tee!

 Okay, another "out of nowhere coffee rant”:

So for no reason in particular, I suddenly recall meeting Jack LaLanne. I was at Black Lake Golf Course in the mid-’80s and I'm waiting for the first tee to clear (I'm on deck). I hear whispering and someone says, "That's Jack LaLanne!"

I'm curious, so I step through the small throng and see a guy on the tee using a driver that appears to be about two feet longer than it should be. He's wearing a t-shirt that is clearly nine sizes too small and pants so tight they reveal we have something in common—we both hang to the left (it's a guy thing). The lady I'm with is mesmerized and wants me to get his autograph. 

I turn to her and say, "The only reason I would approach that guy is if I needed to feel tall!" Of course he can do 4,000 pushups. He's got biceps like cantaloupes, and in pushup position he can't be more than two inches off the carpet! If he wasn't Jack LaLanne he'd be marching to "Whistle while you work"! 

I get a "Shhhhh… he can hear you," and I can't help but continue. Look, on the TV he must surround himself with midgets! You'd never know he can't reach the freezer! He must have been a fire hydrant in his past life!

Suddenly I get a, "Jeez, dude, what's your problem?" I turn around to the guy behind me and reply, "Hey, dude, this is the guy who makes me feel like shit because I can't do 300 one-finger pullups. Look at that, he can't even reach the pedals on the golf cart!" 

"He's a member here ..."

"Bet he only has to pay half the dues ’cause he's only ..."

"Stop it!" I recognize the voice and tell her I'm done, but I keep muttering. Wasn't a good round. I got to watch "Jack" on each tee doing handstands and one-arm pushups.

Of course, today he'd be declared "vertically challenged" and allowed to play Abe Lincoln on Netflix. 

I'm done. And yes, I feel better.