I shot 43-50=93, no birdies; Mr Science shot 80, um, I think, with 2 birdies, now the norm, as I say, if you know what I mean.
"What does Talking Stick mean?" asked the QOG.
In the vacuum that follows such a question, I leapt: "It's because when the Indians first saw white men playing Golf, they kept hearing muttering, and, not knowing the nature of Golfers, they assumed it came from the golf clubs in the bag!"
I didn't play my favorite two holes very well, #4 and #12: with #4, I was struggling with my swing, vacillating between my so-called Medicus swing and my, um, even-less-standard swing which gives rise to the name of this blog for its resemblance to the Kokopelli . . . but from 5 thru 9, I felt entirely on top of my game. Then on #10, some pimple-faced deputy-assistant pro tells us to hurry up, which, means less than nothing to anybody else, but will wreck my game every time. I double-bogied 10 & 11, then took an 8x on #12, when my drive disappeared . . . I had arrogantly aimed at the left landing area, but the shot looked good to me off the tee, I just couldn't find the ball . . . damitall. One stinking par on the back 9, no birdies.