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Learning some lessons on Sunday afternoon
If you haven't checked out our new Web page, you should.
We get e-mails daily asking why we don't update the page more often, and the answer is, we do.
The problem is, the old page is still up.
When you go online, make sure you end up at a site with the URL
Note that a "www" has been added to the address, although plain old "mccookgazette.com" may get you there.
If you end up at a URL that includes the phrase "mywebpal," you'll notice that news stopped Oct. 1, although the date is still updated automatically.
I think you'll like the new site better. The photos are bigger, the departments are better organized and the site is more flexible.
There are great links to weather and television listings, and more improvements will be coming soon.
Small World II
I mentioned a number of acquaintances that my wife ran into while her father was in Lincoln undergoing open heart surgery last week -- the father-in-law of a McCook pastor, the father-in-law of a classmate of mine, and people with ties to Southwest Nebraska. I failed to list another important instance -- one of the physicians involved in my father-in-law's surgery was the son of a North Platte doctor who performed surgery on my mother back in the 1960s.
The Lincoln doctor, who was a lawyer before entering medicine, said he often consulted my cousin, an attorney and a former governor, about career choices. And then did the exact opposite.
Donna Houghtelling, an advertising sales representative for the Gazette, discovered another Southwest Nebraskan with ties to the West Coast.
Beth Nickerson of Cambridge was part of a story about her son's leave from military service in Iraq.
After Donna discussed the story with Beth, they discovered they attended the same junior high school in Portland, Oregon.
"I was waiting for someone to golf with," said the man in the blue jumpsuit, waiting at the first tee.
My son, Creighton, and I decided to get in a round of golf at the Broken Tee Par 3 course on Sunday before winter sets in.
Tim Thompson, the man in blue, fished a slightly used score card out of a blue trash barrel.
"They're out of cards," he explained.
Soon, without any practice shots, he whacked a short shot off the first tee.
On the green in three, Tim waited for us to take our shots. They both sliced into the rough.
"Creighton, huh?" Tim said. "That's like in Omaha, where we go for the Special Olympics."
Tim explained that he worked at SWATS, the Southwest Area Training Services sheltered workshop, and lived in one of the dorms.
"Could you write that down?" Tim asked, handing me a pencil to record his score, which was similar to mine.
"How many does that make?" he asked later. He hoped to break his course record of 55.
Tim may have been holding back a little. He didn't want a sore arm on Monday, he explained, when he planned on going to Willow Lanes to try to best his bowling record.
Yes, Tim needed a little help with adding up his scorecard, telling time, and subtracting and dividing to figure out the pace of his game. And, he was glad to accept an offer to help pull his golf cart up the long hill on No. 6 and a ride home in time to watch the playoff game.
But he knew where all the range markers were, where to tee off, and which club to use for which shot. He also had the wisdom to know that you'll card a better score with a gentle, careful shot down the fairway than a full-swing showboat drive that puts you in the wrong fairway. The scorecards proved it at the end of the day.
Thanks for the golf lesson, Tim.