It happened again, just the other day, when I was playing golf on vacation in North Carolina. For nine holes or more, I zipped around the course with my son, my niece’s husband and a young friend, the fastest foursome on wheels. Ready, golf. Find it. Hit it. Go find it again. Heck, at the rate we were playing, we figured we’d be back at the beach cottage in time for dinner - before that ominous …

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