A week or so ago I put up what I thought was an off topic post that showcased a video made by a writer on strike. That video got a lot of attention (not from this site) and it turns out that writer Bob Kushell actually does play golf. He was kind enough to sit down for an online “interview” with me so I could find out more about his golf life. At least I assume he was sitting.
His video showed him driving his wife (played by Christina Applegate) batty by hanging around the house with all his newfound idle time. I figured he should leave her alone and go play some golf. He happens to be among the fortunate writers who have managed to hang onto their golf club memberships and he does play occasionally. But he has also been busy with creative projects like making (not writing) this hilarious follow-up video:
*Strong language advisory for my more delicate readers*
Bob Kushell is a comedy writer on the TV show Samantha Who? and has also written for Dream On, The Simpsons, 3rd Rock from the Sun, Grounded for Life and Malcolm in the Middle, among others. Here is our conversation about his golf background:
Golf Chick: So, you play golf?
Bob Kushell: Yeah. Been playing since I was a little kid, hitting balls in my grandfather’s backyard in Long Beach. He taught golf. And my father was scratch at one time. I got neither of their talents.
Golf Chick: Are you a member of any clubs?
Bob Kushell: Been a member of Braemar CC since 1997, the day Tiger won the Masters. When I was a kid, though, my parents belonged to El Cab, then moved to Calabasas CC
Golf Chick: Is the date of your membership at Braemar a coincidence or did you really get so inspired you went right down and signed up?
Bob Kushell: That’s exactly what happened. I was so awestruck and touched by his performance, that there was nothing to do but – literally – run out and join a club. It was like I was touched by something.
Golf Chick: How often do you play?
Bob Kushell: I used to play three times a week. Would go out before work, play a whole round in an hour and a half. I started hitting in the low 80s, and finally broke 80 – hit a 78. I really thought I was something. Then I had kids. And the whole thing went to shit. I play now, maybe… MAYBE… once every three months. It’s a total disaster. (But I wouldn’t give up the kids for anything.)
Golf Chick: Are you playing more now that you… um… have more free time? (It’d be a good way to leave your poor wife alone for a precious few hours)
Bob Kushell: It’s strange – but I thought I would be. But, no. I find myself making videos, doing creative things. But walking three hours a day in a circle is exhausting. It takes everything out of you. I never expected the fatigue that would come with it.
Bob Kushell: But, yes, it would be a good way to leave the wife – Karen, by the way – alone. Trust me, I’m out of the house enough.
Golf Chick: You picket every day?
Bob Kushell: Yep, I picket everyday at CBS Radford in Studio City.
Golf Chick: Is that a requirement?
Bob Kushell: Yes, it’s a requirement to picket. That doesn’t mean everyone does it. But most of my friends do.
Bob Kushell: They don’t throw you out of the guild or anything. They might call you up and politely tell you to show the HELL UP!
Golf Chick: Do a lot of your friends play golf? Striking writers in particular?
Bob Kushell: No, I don’t have many striking friends who’ve been hitting the links. Like I said – picketing itself is so fatiguing in the morning, that the last thing you feel like doing in the afternoon is being out on the course. Sadly, I even know a couple people who were avid, regular golfers who – because of the strike – had to give up their course memberships. The whole situation is very dire. But extremely worthy. God knows, the strike in no way feels like nor resembles a luxurious hiatus.
We had a little off-topic chatter that I’ve deleted. I’m really not so insensitive that I’d just jump to this next question:
Golf Chick: Do you maintain a handicap (in golf)?
Bob Kushell: To say I “maintain” a handicap is an overstatement. I stick my crappy scores into a machine and it spits back a number that is very well near my age.
Bob Kushell: 17.
Bob Kushell: Used to be an 11.
Bob Kushell: I was happier, then.
Golf Chick: How many kids? Are they old enough to play golf? Does/did Karen play golf?
Bob Kushell: I’ve got two kids, Sam and Julia. Sam is ten years old and enjoys hitting the ball around. I never want to force him to play, though. I figure the best way for a golfer to pick up the game is on their own, when they’re asking for it. My daughter couldn’t care less. And Karen likes to hit the ball every once in a while when we’re on vacation, but she doesn’t pursue it. She’s got a beautiful swing, though. It makes me jealous.
Bob Kushell: And a little horny.
Golf Chick: What kind of clubs do you use?
Bob Kushell: I’m currently playing with Callaway Big Bertha irons, Sonartec fairway woods, Titleist Driver and a Mickey Finn weighted putter. The tools of a master.
Golf Chick: What’s your favorite golf course?
Bob Kushell: I’ve got a soft spot for Pebble Beach. The first time I stepped up to the first tee, my hands were shaking. But I hit the ball straight and long. The only time I did that all day. There’s nothing like walking Pebble. Locally, I’d have to say the best course around is El Cab. I like it better than Riviera, Brentwood and all the rest.
Golf Chick: Ever get a hole-in-one?
Bob Kushell: I’ve never got a hole in one. But I have gotten a hole in 23. I’ve done that a few times. Is that good?
Golf Chick: 23? Wow, something few of us will accomplish in a lifetime. Impressive.
Golf Chick: If you could play with one pro, not counting Tiger, who would it be?
Bob Kushell: I’d play with Tiger’s evil twin Bizarro-Tiger. He’s angry and slams his club a lot. And he always loses.
Golf Chick: You just described a lot of golfers.
Golf Chick: What’s your best shot? What’s your best distance for a lay-up?
Bob Kushell: My best shots, by far, are my putts. I read greens better than anyone I know. Even ones I’ve never played. But I think I have a very good touch. Other than that, I’d say my short chip shots are the best part of my game. I’m very handy with a wedge.
Golf Chick: Sounds like you have a great short game. Hard to believe you carry a 17.
Bob Kushell: I have a terrible fairway shot. And, even though I’m long off the tee, I find it hard to control. I’m always behind trees. I’m really very poor.
Golf Chick: Do you watch professional golf much? Ever play Augusta?
Bob Kushell: Before kids, I’d watch every tournament. Now, it’s mostly just the majors. And, no, even though it’s my dream – I’ve never played Augusta. (Interestingly, while Augusta is my dream course to play, Augusta Gloop is my least favorite of all the Willy Wonka characters. Just an observation.)
Obviously Bob hasn’t lost his sense of humor to the strike. But many people are losing a lot more than golf memberships. I support the WGA strike and have signed this online petition. If you can spare a moment, please take a look and consider signing it yourself.
Big thanks to Bob!
Look at this darling dog. He is an Australian Shepherd and was stolen from Moanalua Golf Club in Honolulu, HI as retired musician Frank Manumo played golf there.
AND – the people accused of this terrible crime were maintenance workers at the golf course. They have been fired. Here’s the kicker: they have been arrested for felony theft. THEFT? That’s ALL?!?!? Sure, they stole him, but then they KILLED him!
I can see it now: Clemens throws a 98 mph heater (okay, make that 91) that sails by Miguel Tejada, who doesn’t even flinch. It was a close one, and the crowd goes quiet for a moment. Clemens shrugs and says “Nah, I missed it. That was a hair inside.” Tejada says “No way, man. You got me there.” They begin to argue, each one wanting to give up a call to the other side to gain the fans’ trust and the situation escalates into an all-out, bench clearing, steroid-rage-filled brawl. When the dust settles and several players are rushed to the hospital, eight of the men left standing eject themselves from the game for fighting and the skeleton crew left on the field tries it all again.
I’m pretty sure he meant while you’re holding the golf club and to do it with the sides of your arms. Not quite as titillating but probably more effective that way. I haven’t tried it yet but you know I will. I also don’t know if he was actually speaking to just the females or maybe there were some man-boobs in the crowd. Perhaps it’s just the motion of putting your upper arms closer together and keeping them there that works, so it really might work for anyone.
This hasn’t been a good year for either. Improvement? Ha. Winning? Double ha. We have our annual club awards banquet on Saturday after the Turkey Shoot and not a scrap will be added to my trophy wall. And my handicap went from 15.8 in January to a low of 14.5 in July and now it’s up to a 16.7. Blech.
I can’t even beat Annika in my dreams!
I often dream about golf. Don’t we all?
Last night’s dream was exhilarating and frustrating at the same time. Apparently, I’m an underachiever when I’m sleeping.
The first part was imaginative and ambitious in that I was a good enough golfer to even be competing with Annika Sorenstam in the first place. I wasn’t a pro, but we were playing against each other in some kind of exhibition match.
We were down to the 18th hole and I had a real chance to win. Annika was already on the green (ha – I guess I outdrove her) so I needed to stick one close. My approach shot went long and ended up in a really tricky lie in a strange tuft of grass behind the green. I didn’t have any bunkers to deal with and I had plenty of green to use, but the lie was unpredictable. I needed to hole it out to secure a win or put it in tap-in distance and hope she missed her putt to push a tie-breaker. I ran it by about 15 feet. She missed her first putt and finished off with par. Now I had to make this putt to force the playoff.
Here’s where it gets psychologically interesting.
When I woke up I was terribly disappointed in myself for letting my mind concede and not winning. Go figure.
But thanks for the game, Annika.
Next post.