The Google Sandbox

As mentioned, Bill the smog guru is no longer Bill the smog guru. He is now Bill the Google master. He can get any page to appear first on a Google search. He was explaining it to me how he does it, but it went way over my head. I felt like a gorilla as I sat there listening to him pontificate.

He convinced me to write a description for my blog, that’s how little I know. He was talking about the Google slap and the Google sandbox.

“You don’t want to end up in the sandbox.”

“No, I don’t want that.”

It’s a wonder anyone finds my blog. I have no description, no internet skills, and not a whole lot of ambition.

            The last thing Bill said to me as I was leaving was, ‘Wordtracker.” His eyes were bulging out of his sockets like a man possessed. I think the hippie done lost his mind. 

Weddings and Golf Bags

I found myself at a family wedding on Saturday. It was a country club affair, and from all appearances, it was real nice. It was good to see the family come together. As time has passed, the family has become larger, although it seems to be getting smaller with all the in fighting and lack of participation.

            I’m not a big fan of weddings. I have a tendency to disappear during the reception and walk around the country club at night. A country club at night is a lonely place.  The last three family weddings have been at country clubs, and at all three weddings I found myself strolling the grounds alone peering into the window of a pro shop. The sight of empty golf bags sitting in the shadows of a closed dark pro shop is sad. The bags sit there, chubby, empty, and in isolation, all they need is a pint of ice cream to make their loneliness complete. Nobody has picked them, and at pro shop prices it may be some time before someone does.