A Bad Place Full Of Bad Jerks
A Bad Place Full Of Bad Jerks

I have the greatest parents anyone could ever ask for. I really do. My parents were pretty old when they had me (mid to late 30's, especially for 1978.) My mother gave up her career as a secretary to raise me. My dad was a County Sheriff, and after he won his first campaign, he never lost.

Before that, he put his life - as many men did - into the hands of the Army. He was stationed all around the world. One year, he was stationed in Georgia, and the bus came to take a select few of these brave sons-a-bitches to Augusta.


My dad, being an uber-competitive-dipshit-bastard, turned down the free trip to The Masters. The reason? He had a volleyball match that needed settling from the week prior. The bus came, and he said, "this is more important."

He has kicked himself in the ass for 50 years for that decision.

He's 70 now. He has the resources to get to Augusta and watch a round or two. But I would give anything, anything, to stop over one day any drop two Masters tickets in his lap.

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