Super Seniors Golf Championship
If you are an avid ESPN watcher you probably don’t know that I recently competed in – and won – the Super Senior Championship for the 8th flight in The Super Senior Championship held annually in The Villages, Florida. ESPN didn’t cover it. If you failed to see my name mentioned in the February 22 edition of “The Villages Daily Sun”, you can find all of the accolades on page 3 of the sports section in the lower right-hand corner. You’ll find my name between the winners of the 7th and 9th flights.
A little background may be in order. In order to qualify for The Super Senior Championship, you must be a Super Senior. In order to be a Super Senior, you must be at least 70 years old. And finally, you must pay the $15.00 Super Senior entrance fee. I met all of the requirements.
To help you further grasp the significance of this, of the over 110,000 people who reside in The Villages, approximately 260 golfers qualified and paid the $15.00 entrance fee. There were 13 flights so being in the 8th flight put me in a group of guys within the lower half of the group of competitors. It was a two-day event. I shot 81 on day one and 80 on day two and beat the next closest man by six strokes. I turned my cool $15.00 cash entry fee into a solid $55.00 worth of credit in the pro shop.
I played a practice round to hone my skills for the competition. I played a guy who is fifteen years older than me with only one eye. He wore a patch to cover his missing eye, and I privately referred to him as “The Pirate”. He had a swashbuckling swing and beat me by two strokes. (arrgh matey)
That humbling experience helped me to achieve my successful outcome. It didn’t hurt that he competed in the 4th flight.
One final note: A win is a win and that $40.00 profit will go about half way towards helping me buy a new shirt in the pro shop.
Buying a Car and Going to the Dentist
My two least favorite things to do in this world are to buy a car and go to the dentist. I’ve never had hemorrhoids, but if I did, they would come in no higher than third on my list. I have nothing against dentists. One of my good friends is a dentist. Ruth’s next door neighbor where she grew up was a dentist. He ended up being a friend as well. It’s not the dentist that I don’t care for – it’s the going.
I do my best to take care of my teeth so I shouldn’t object to the trip. I think it may be that I object to the surprises that may await. A couple of years ago on one of my trips, the receptionist asked how I was. Just small talk. I told that I was going to buy a new car. She replied, “Really?”
I said, “No. But I like buying a new car about as much as I like going to the dentist so I might as well get them both over on the same day.”
Buying a new car is number one on my list of dislikes by a large margin. I like the cars that I buy, but I hate the process. I find the buying process to be dreadful. The guy with the car wants to get as much money as he can for the car even though he knows that it will be worth gazillions less as soon as the car is driven off the lot. The guy with the money wants to pay the least amount possible so that he can use it for more useful things like: green fees, trips to Vegas, Caribbean cruises, and ball park franks at a baseball game. (or hemorrhoid cream if you’re in need of it)
Ruth and I are in the market for a new car right now. We’ve visited three different dealers so we could look at cars. We have an idea of what we’d like, but we’re not married to a brand. Dealers hate lookers. They love buyers. The dealer’s only goal is to turn lookers into buyers. But most of all, dealers want buyers to buy today.
I know a car salesman in Michigan that I can work with. If you like a car on his lot, he’ll give you the keys and tell you “to bring it back tomorrow.” “Try it out.” “Make sure.” If I find a car I like, I go on-line to find out what similar cars are selling for 
and how much my about to be sold car is worth. I take the big number (for the new car), subtract the small number (for the car I’m trading) and come up with a new number. (that’s the number that I’m willing to pay)
I memorize my number. My dealer knows that I only want to see one number. I point to my old car and then I point to the car I may purchase. I ask him for what he needs to receive in order for him to be happy with the sale. He writes a number on a business card and shows it to me. If the business card number is at, or lower, than my memorized number, I buy the car. If it’s higher, I continue looking. My Michigan dealer’s number has always been lower than my mine. Simple.
Our most recent three experiences have been a struggle. I feel like I’m dealing with a timeshare salesman that has me locked in a timeshare room maze of mirrors. Even tough I ask for one number in advance of our conversation, they can’t help themselves. They offer a series of “what ifs” while attempting to make the sale.
“What if I give you more for your trade?”
“What if I could drop the price of the car?”
“What if I could get the total price down by $2,500?”
In my mind, all of the “what ifs” should have been addressed before he showed me my out the door, wheels rolling, smallest possible, purchase number. But they just can’t do it.
I’m going back to Michigan to look for my “one number man”.