There are advantages and disadvantages to involving your spouse on social golf trips. From my perspective the main advantage is that she lets me go where I want and has no comments on the golfing side at all. The downside is that any non-golf days inevitably lead to shopping days out.
On this trip I left the week between the first event and the Bay Hill Event pretty clear. I did not want to get golfed out, needed to buy a car as car hire here in Florida is getting so expensive and – much more importantly – I needed to buy the tiles, paint etc, that matron needed to enable her to decorate the bathrooms whilst I was tied up with five days golfing next week. That’s the type of guy I am you see, ensuring that she can do the things she enjoys whilst I am working hard on the golf course.
Buying the car was much more problematic that I’d expected: the car colour was as important as its mileage, comfortable seats as vital as engine capacity and fuel consumption, but eventually we agreed and bought a silver 4-litre Buick DeSABRE. Now here’s something peculiar that could only happen in the States. They have no Car Tax preferring instead something called a tag, but what’s different is that you pay this annual fee on the birthday of the owner, nothing to do with the car, so on each birthday now, Mr Pedder, tax collector on behalf of Mr Obama will send me a tax bill instead of a birthday card. How nice of Barack.
Having bought the car, Matron needed a sat nav system as well and so I acquired a Tom Tom as she only wanted the model that she was familiar with, not the much cheaper Garmin version. I set this up and tried to put a male voice on it but again ended up with sat nav Sarah, which effectively means if I switch it on I am nagged at in Stereo, SARAH and MATRON both having a go at me.
Sat Navs are just not suitable for male drivers, who quite frankly know their way round better, including all the short cuts and ways to avoid congested areas etc. But, that doesn’t stop Sarah – backed up by matron – telling me what to do. Within half an hour I had taken the North Bound Interstate instead of South a 25-mile detour that was avoidable if I had ignored them both. That’s my view anyway. An hour later it sends me through the Prepaid Toll charges which costs me a $100 fine…. So I switch her off but unfortunately I cant do the same with matron. She has a much better relationship with Sarah who seems to give her clear, concise instructions without any problem...
However when on the I4 coming back from Bella Collina there suddenly started a sequence of large beepings from the dashboard we both became concerned. Stopping the car, examining the tyres the boot, the bonnet, the doors, the windows, all seemed in order we could not understand it, nothing was flashing on the dashboard. We recommenced and it started again, we hit some congestion and it stopped but when in free traffic again it restarted. This went on for 3 days, I read every manual, but it only happened when matron drove, then it dawned on me it was Sarah. Every time Matron broke the speed limit she immediately chorused a dad a bum bum bum……..
Of course matron accused me of setting it up, felt it would be better off set to stop me driving so slow and simply turned up the radio and carried on driving at whatever speed she wished. A 4-litre car for matron makes her feel like the I4 is Silverstone I think…
On this trip I left the week between the first event and the Bay Hill Event pretty clear. I did not want to get golfed out, needed to buy a car as car hire here in Florida is getting so expensive and – much more importantly – I needed to buy the tiles, paint etc, that matron needed to enable her to decorate the bathrooms whilst I was tied up with five days golfing next week. That’s the type of guy I am you see, ensuring that she can do the things she enjoys whilst I am working hard on the golf course.
Buying the car was much more problematic that I’d expected: the car colour was as important as its mileage, comfortable seats as vital as engine capacity and fuel consumption, but eventually we agreed and bought a silver 4-litre Buick DeSABRE. Now here’s something peculiar that could only happen in the States. They have no Car Tax preferring instead something called a tag, but what’s different is that you pay this annual fee on the birthday of the owner, nothing to do with the car, so on each birthday now, Mr Pedder, tax collector on behalf of Mr Obama will send me a tax bill instead of a birthday card. How nice of Barack.
Having bought the car, Matron needed a sat nav system as well and so I acquired a Tom Tom as she only wanted the model that she was familiar with, not the much cheaper Garmin version. I set this up and tried to put a male voice on it but again ended up with sat nav Sarah, which effectively means if I switch it on I am nagged at in Stereo, SARAH and MATRON both having a go at me.
Sat Navs are just not suitable for male drivers, who quite frankly know their way round better, including all the short cuts and ways to avoid congested areas etc. But, that doesn’t stop Sarah – backed up by matron – telling me what to do. Within half an hour I had taken the North Bound Interstate instead of South a 25-mile detour that was avoidable if I had ignored them both. That’s my view anyway. An hour later it sends me through the Prepaid Toll charges which costs me a $100 fine…. So I switch her off but unfortunately I cant do the same with matron. She has a much better relationship with Sarah who seems to give her clear, concise instructions without any problem...
However when on the I4 coming back from Bella Collina there suddenly started a sequence of large beepings from the dashboard we both became concerned. Stopping the car, examining the tyres the boot, the bonnet, the doors, the windows, all seemed in order we could not understand it, nothing was flashing on the dashboard. We recommenced and it started again, we hit some congestion and it stopped but when in free traffic again it restarted. This went on for 3 days, I read every manual, but it only happened when matron drove, then it dawned on me it was Sarah. Every time Matron broke the speed limit she immediately chorused a dad a bum bum bum……..
Of course matron accused me of setting it up, felt it would be better off set to stop me driving so slow and simply turned up the radio and carried on driving at whatever speed she wished. A 4-litre car for matron makes her feel like the I4 is Silverstone I think…
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