Point of Clarification

So often in life, I find golf microcosmically describing other aspects of life. For instance, sometimes when I play I get so focused on what I need to do -- pick the target, grip the club, square the clubface to the target, set up to the ball, don't grip too hard but keep the hands firmly on the club, take the club away smoothly but not too far -- that I end up hitting some weakly fading shot that the wind laughingly knocks short into a bunker or other undesirable place. And, really, when you get down to it, you have to think that hitting the ball solidly is probably the most important part of the golfing.

Reading Don's comment in response to my last post made me realize that I had done the same thing when I wrote that little anecdote. I was so focused on painting the backdrop of the morning scene that I didn't really make the point clearly. Before I get to that, though, let me address Don's point. If my blathering suggested more than "bystander interest in such a familial scene on [my] part," it did so completely by mistake and, more to the point, erroneously. While I admire their commitment and responsibility, I harbor no envy for those whose mornings require action and interaction. At this point in my life, I recognize that, if nothing else, my Morning Brain is ill-equipped to handle such situations.

Now, let me disambiguate [aside: I didn't make up that ridiculous word. Someone I know pointed it out to me from a technical book, and it's so awful that I had to use it.] the point from my last post. What I was trying to point out is that I thought it took years to learn certain behaviors, but some of them might be instinctual. For instance, I thought it took girls years of experience and responding to thousands upon thousands of stimuli to know that they should run or at least cry when they looked at me. I was wrong. It's pre-programmed.