Tuesday’s True Tale of Humor…

When I was younger, my family and I would go golfing at one of the local courses. We started with a range and classes to learn how to golf, then began with a simple nine holes. Eventually, once or twice, we even attempted the grand eighteen-hole afternoon. I wasn’t the best of sorts as a young lad, not in any sport. However, I would try regardless.

One time, I knocked the ball off the fairway into the rough, in between a couple of trees. Instead of getting frustrated, or giving up, I took this opportunity to practice my expert skills of one-shot wonders. I lined up my club, aimed for the flag, and took some practice swings. I was about a hundred or so yards out still, but being in the rough, I would need to use an iron instead of a club. My favorite was the seven. Now was the moment to prove I could succeed. I prepared for the final blow, swung my iron, and watched my ball as it disappeared into the horizon. I couldn’t believe it. Where did it go? As my backswing finished, the front of the iron hit the ball that shot up vertically, knocking my forward about fifteen yards. Unbelievable. My family laughed, I was impressed. Looking back, a memorable family activity chocked with humor stands out…

Comedy is in the eye of the beholder, it would seem, since I find things humorous that others do not, or most often, what is in hilarity to my peers doesn’t tiggle my bones in the least. That caution being given, this true tale I tell I look back on in humor and have shared many-a-times, without pause to consider the laugh meter status.
When I was younger, my family and I would go golfing at one of the local courses. We started with a range and classes to learn how to golf, then began with a simple nine holes. Eventually, once or twice, we even attempted the grand eighteen-hole afternoon. I wasn’t the best of sorts as a young lad, not in any sport. However, I would try regardless.
One time, I knocked the ball off the fairway into the rough, in between a couple of trees. Instead of getting frustrated, or giving up, I took this opportunity to practice my expert skills of one-shot wonders. I lined up my club, aimed for the flag, and took some practice swings. I was about a hundred or so yards out still, but being in the rough, I would need to use an iron instead of a club. My favorite was the seven. Now was the moment to prove I could succeed. I prepared for the final blow, swung my iron, and watched my ball as it disappeared into the horizon. I couldn’t believe it. Where did it go? As my backswing finished, the front of the iron hit the ball that shot up vertically, knocking my forward about fifteen yards. Unbelievable. My family laughed, I was impressed. Looking back, a memorable family activity chocked with humor stands out…

What’s your funniest true story?