Tue, 15 Jul 2003

website update...

Many have asked to see pictures of Meg & Jim's wedding, so I've put together a site with some pictures that we took and later scanned and also some digital pictures passed on to me. These pictures are definitely not the quality of the ones we'll eventually get from the photographer, but at least this will give you an idea of how things looked. Those who have seen the picture of me on my main page http://ivman.com will now get to see the *real* me - though I'm not usually in a tux.

I've also put up a page of links to sites my wife and I enjoy and that I think some of you might also. The link to the wedding pictures is the first one on the links page.

wedding pictures - http://ivman.com/wedpix.html

links - http://ivman.com/links.html

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today's instant vacation...

Speaking of "links" - I got to be on the links for the first time in my life - golf links, that is. My son-in-law hosted a golf outing for his groomsmen, friends, and family the day before the wedding. Since the only golf I've ever played is miniature golf (and that, right poorly,) I chose to spend the day observing it all from a golf cart with a cooler full of cold beverages for the thirsty, active participants in the event. It was an absolutely beautiful day, and I'm sure it was all the more enjoyable for everyone because I *didn't* try to play! 8-)

Reflecting on the day prompted me to search the archives on my PC for jokes about golf, which I pass on for your enjoyment. FORE!

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Rob Loach in Greenville SC

When pediatricians take Wednesdays off, is it to play miniature golf?
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FORE! (and there are actually FOUR jokes about golf)

The bride came down the aisle and when she reached the altar, the groom was standing there with his golf bag and clubs by his side.

She said, "What are your golf clubs doing here?"

He looked her right in the eye and said, "This isn't going to take all day, is it?"

***
An 80 year-old man who was an avid golfer moved to a new town and joined the local country club. He went to the club for the first time to play, but was told there wasn't anybody he could play with because they were already out on the course. He repeated several times that he really wanted to play.

Finally, the Assistant Pro said he would play with him and asked how many strokes he wanted for a handicap.

The 80 year-old said, "I really don't need any strokes as I have been playing quite well. The only real problem is getting out of sand traps."

And play well he did! Coming to the par four 18th they were all even. The pro had a nice drive and was able to get on the green and 2-putt for a par. The old man had a nice drive, but his approach shot landed in a sand trap next to the green. Playing from the bunker he hit a high ball which landed on the green and rolled into the hole! Birdie and the match! The Pro walked over to the sand trap where his opponent was still standing in the trap.

He said, "Nice shot, but I thought you said you have a problem getting out of sand traps?"

"I do," replied the old man. "Please give me a hand."

***
Three very religious rabbis in black with long beards were playing golf. A guy named Mulhaney wanted to play golf, and this was the only threesome in which he could play. So he joins the rabbis and plays 18 holes.

At the end of the game his score is 104. The rabbis shot 69, 70, and 71. He says to them, "How come you all play such good golf?"

The lead rabbi said, "When you live a religious life and join and attend temple, you are rewarded."

Mulhaney loves golf and figures, what does he have to lose? So he finds a temple close to his home, attends twice a week, converts, joins, and lives a religious life.

About a year later he again plays golf with the three rabbis. He shoots a 104 and once again they shoot a 69, 70, and 71. He says to them, "Okay, I joined a temple, live a religious life, and I'm still shooting lousy.

The lead rabbi said to him, "What temple did you join?"

He said, "Beth Shalom".

The rabbi retorted, "You Schmuck! That one's for tennis!"

***
A woman goes into the local newspaper office to see the that the obituary for her recently deceased husband is published. The obit editor informs her that there is a charge of .50 cents per word. She pauses, reflects, and then says, "Well then, let it read, 'Bob Smith died.'"

Amused at the woman's thrift, the editor tells her that there is a seven word minimum for all obituaries. She thinks it over and in a few seconds says, "In that case, let it read, 'Bob Smith died. Golf clubs for sale.'"