Armpits smell like prayer

Playing Disc Golf

I wrote that title and now I'm going to write for about 10 to 15 minutes on everything I can think of about disc golf.

I really enjoy disc golf. It takes concentration and skill and fluidity of movement but it's also played at a very leisurely pace. Like golf! But...better.

The drive is my favorite part. You step up and as your moving forward you cross your feet and as you uncross them your body twists and you whip your arm around and fling as hard as you can with your wrist and hopefully you send the disc flying evenly. Then it just sort of hangs in the air and gets smaller and smaller.

But that wasn't very exciting. It's not very exciting. Muscle memory is pretty cool though. And disc golf is all about muscle memory. If your limbs and wrist and fingers aren't moving in concert and doing what they're supposed to be doing then your disc will come out all wonky or fly off in the totally wrong direction and sad times for you abound. But, of course, you can't do it well and think about it at the same time. You just have to keep doing it until it works.

This is boring. I could talk about the flight of the disc. I don't want to but I could. I won't. It's a great activity. You get out in nature. And you're trying to increase your mastery of a completely arbitrary and useless skill.

Arbitrary and useless skills are by far the things most worthy of mastery. Isn't that where all the greatness and glory comes from? By the sheer needlessness of the whole thing?

As Don Quixote once said, "The greatest thing, is to lose one's mind for no reason."

Or something like that.

Delving into the fantasy waters for a second, as a younger boy playing disc golf I can remember my friends and I would always like to imagine the discs as deadly blades that could slice through trees and skulls.

Silliness.

It was supposed to rain today! I think it might start now.