I had planned to spend all this week writing about economic development and beating the bejesus out of the Republicans. But we can return to that tomorrow. They'll still be there.
For right now, there's big breaking news that I must report: I hit a hole in one!
I've been playing golf since my Dad and my brothers taught me the game at Milwaukee County's George Hansen golf course in Wauwatosa when I was eight years old.
I've always played municipal courses by choice and by bank account, though I accept all invitations to play anywhere. WisPolitics.com editor Jeff Mayers once described me as a "municipal golfer of the people."
So, I'm proud to say my first ever hole in one came on the sixth hole at the venerable Glenway Golf Course, which I think of as my country club. Glenway is one of our fine city of Madison-owned golf courses where a guy can play a round on a Monday afternoon for less than $14.
Now, the nitpickers among you will pick a couple of nits. One nit is that I was playing alone, so there was no official witness to my accomplishment. But actually Ingrid the Cart Girl was waiting next to my tee and witnessed the event. She even took my picture and signed my card. So there.
The other nit is maybe a little more serious for the sticklers. Technically speaking, I did hit two practice shots off the tee before striking my hole in one. But in my mind I had designated the third shot as the official one, so I don't think this should be an issue for normal people, though it might be for the USGA.
The shot itself was a soft nine iron that flew high enough to caress the billowing clouds and landed with purpose only six inches in front of the hole on the shade-dappled green, taking one determined hop straight into the cup and disappearing in a way that takes your breath away and makes you wonder if it was possible. When you hit a nine iron just right you don't even feel it. It's as if you clicked a lever and the ball jumped effortlessly off your tee.
It was a beautiful thing, even if my hole in one was my third shot.