There is nowhere to go and nothing to do. My wife suggested we take a walk, but I don’t walk anywhere unless I have a golf club in my hand and its cart path only. My kids have a restraining order on us and won’t let us come within 200 yards of the grandchildren. And we can no longer eat out, but when we tried to cook at home, there were cobwebs in the oven.

The network channels are inundated with coverage of the virus. The golf channel has been showing reruns of old tournaments, which are almost as riveting as watching my brother-in-law’s video of his family camping trip to Yellowstone. And my wife is so desperate for something to do, she is even considering sex, and maybe even with me.

Paranoia is off the tracks. Before the shutdown, we were having dinner at a local bar. I let out a loud sneeze and everyone at the surrounding tables started yelling “check please.” My stock portfolio is plummeting and most of our cash is currently invested in toilet paper. I am washing my hands 137 times a day. I don’t touch anyone. I don’t even touch myself. I have been using tongs to go to the bathroom. This has to stop.

Our society and economy have been crippled by a microscopic virus. Scientists have not yet determined the exact origin but have narrowed it down to a Chinese fish market or Rosie O’Donnell’s bathtub. And no one is sure how to prevent or cure it. In the past, the ways to prevent contracting a contagious disease were simple: don’t eat in restaurants with a cat on the menu and don’t date my college roommate’s sister.

I don’t consider myself to be in the high-risk category. I have been building up my immune system by eating one meal per day at MacDonald’s for the last 25 years. Germs just slide through me. My only pre-existing condition is an inability to launch a golf ball further than 180 yards. And, according to the CDC, symptoms of the coronavirus are sweats, dizziness, and trouble breathing, which I experience whenever I am standing over a 3-foot putt. I can handle it.

So, I proposed to my regular foursome the idea of escaping from our self-imposed Stalag 17 and venturing outside for a round of golf. Everyone recognized the danger and severity of the situation. But when faced with the decision to remain sequestered with our wives or to risk contracting a deadly virus, it was a no-brainer. Every man opted to play golf.

Our foursome does not pose a medical risk to mankind. My friend, George is virus-free. Social distancing has not been a problem for him. Other than us, he doesn’t have any friends. Bob, my neighbor is a urologist who has been working from home for several weeks. He has developed a way to do remote prostate exams by having patients sit on their cell phones. And our other partner, Jerry tested himself with a kit he bought online. However, he thinks he may have gotten the wrong kit. It showed no traces of the virus but indicated that he was pregnant with twins.

The federal government has established guidelines for social engagement. For example, you must stay at least 6 feet apart and no more than 10 people are allowed at a gathering, which means Patrick Reed’s fan club can still meet. In addition, our foursome drafted our own specific set of rules for Pandemic Golf.

Rules of Play:

• Hazmat suits are permitted. As an alternative, one can wear a college mascot costume or big bunny pajamas.
• Masks are not permitted, because we would look more like stagecoach robbers than a foursome.
• Leave the flag in. And to avoid retrieving balls from the hole, any putt shorter than Lebron James is good.
• Ride in separate golf carts and don’t come closer to another player than a fully extended ball retriever.
• Don’t touch another player’s balls. This is always good advice.
• No high fives. Fortunately, we seldom have a reason.
• No petting the geese or the cart girl.
• Don’t use the spot-a-pot. More disease in there than in all of Wuhan China.
• No excuses. Slicing or hooking are not side effects of the coronavirus.
• Make an online bank transfer to pay off your bets for the day.
• Straddle the sprinkler on the 18th hole before getting into the car.

These rules and restrictions adequately protected us from contamination. Unfortunately, there is no vaccine for bad golf. I had trouble gripping the club with oven mittens, but it was an enjoyable afternoon which ended way too soon. There were no handshakes on the 18th green, no beers at the bar, and we drove home separately.

As the pandemic plays through, it is giving us a glimpse into our inevitable future where all meals are delivered, all entertainment comes through the tv screen, and all human interaction is through our cell phone. Where schooling is online at home, exercise is on a stationary bike in our basement, medical testing is done at drive-thru windows, and colonoscopies are performed at Jiffy Lube. The world is changing. It is becoming less interpersonal as technology consumes us. So now that we have time on our hands, everyone should take a moment to cherish this fading era, when friends still get together to hit a little ball around an open field for no good reason other than to enjoy the companionship of their fellow man.

LOT ‘S WIFE 

The Sunday School teacher was describing how Lot’s wife looked back and turned into a pillar of salt, when little Jason interrupted,  ‘My Mommy looked back once while she was driving,’ he announced triumphantly, ‘and she turned into a telephone pole!’ 
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GOOD SAMARITAN 

A Sunday school teacher was telling her class the story of the Good Samaritan. She asked the class, ‘If you saw a person lying on the roadside, all wounded and bleeding, what would you do?’ A thoughtful little girl broke the hushed silence, ‘I think I’d throw up.’ 
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DID NOAH FISH? 

A Sunday school teacher asked, ‘Johnny, do you think Noah did a lot of fishing when he was on the Ark ?’ ‘No,’ replied Johnny. ‘How could he, with just two worms.’ 
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HIGHER POWER 

A Sunday school teacher said to her children, ‘We have been learning how powerful kings and queens were in Bible times. But, there is a Higher Power. Can anybody tell me what it is?’ One child blurted out, ‘Aces!’
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MOSES AND THE REDSEA 

Nine-year-old Joey was asked by his mother what he had learned in Sunday School. ‘Well, Mom, our teacher told us how God sent Moses behind enemy lines on a rescue mission to lead the Israelites out of Egypt . When he got to the Red Sea , he had his army build a pontoon bridge and all the people walked across safely. Then he radioed headquarters for reinforcements. They sent bombers to blow up the bridge and all the Israelites were saved.’ ‘Now, Joey, is that really what your teacher taught you?’ his Mother asked. ‘Well, no, Mom.. But, if I told it the way the teacher did, you’d never believe it!’ 
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THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD 

A Sunday School teacher decided to have her young class memorize one of the most quoted passages in the Bible – Psalm 23. She gave the youngsters a month to learn the chapter. Little Rick was excited about the task – but he just couldn’t remember the Psalm. After much practice, he could barely get past the first line. On the day that the kids were scheduled to recite Psalm 23 in front of the congregation, Ricky was so nervous. When it was his turn, he stepped up to the microphone and said proudly, ‘The Lord is my Shepherd, and that’s all I need to know.’ 
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UNANSWERED PRAYER 

The preacher’s 5 year-old daughter noticed that her father always paused and bowed his head for a moment before starting his sermon. One day, she asked him why. ‘Well, Honey,’ he began, proud that his daughter was so observant of his messages. ‘I’m asking the Lord to help me preach a good sermon.’ ‘How come He doesn’t answer it?’ she asked. 
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BEING THANKFUL 

A Rabbi said to a precocious six-year-old boy, ‘So your mother says your prayers for you each night? That’s very commendable. What does she say?’ The little boy replied, ‘Thank God he’s in bed!’ 
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UNTIMELY ANSWERED PRAYER 
During the minister’s prayer one Sunday, there was a loud whistle from one of the back pews. Tommy’s mother was horrified. She pinched him into silence and, after church, asked, ‘Tommy, whatever made you do such a thing?’ Tommy answered soberly, ‘I asked God to teach me to whistle, and He did!’
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TIME TO PRAY 
A pastor asked a little boy if he said his prayers every night. ‘Yes, sir.’ the boy replied. ‘And, do you always say them in the morning, too?’ the pastor asked. ‘No sir,’ the boy replied. ‘I’m not scared in the daytime.’

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ALL MEN / ALL GIRLS 
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When my daughter, Kelli, said her bedtime prayers, she would bless every family member, every friend, and every animal (current and past). For several weeks, after we had finished the nightly prayer, Kelli would say, ‘And all girls.’ This soon became part of her nightly routine, to include this closing. My curiosity got the best of me and I asked her, ‘Kelli, why do you always add the part about all girls?’ Her response, ‘Because everybody always finish their prayers by saying ‘All Men’!’ 

SAY A PRAYER 
Little Johnny and his family were having Sunday dinner at his Grandmother’s house. Everyone was seated around the table as the food was being served. When Little Johnny received his plate, he started eating right away. ‘Johnny! Please wait until we say our prayer.’ said his mother. ‘I don’t need to,’ the boy replied. ‘Of course, you do.’ his mother insisted. ‘We always say a prayer before eating at our house.’ That’s at our house.’ Johnny explained. ‘But this is Grandma’s house and she knows how to cook!’

Don’t let them take your temperature on your forehead as you enter the supermarket because it erases your memory. I went for macaroni and cheese and came home with two cases of lager

It’s a five-minute walk from my house to the pub. It’s a 35-minute walk from the pub to my house. The difference is staggering

Today I saw a dwarf climbing down a prison wall. I thought to myself That’s a little condescending.

MY MIND IS LIKE MY INTERNET BROWSER. 19 tabs open, 3 of them are frozen and I have no idea where the music is coming from.

People who wonder whether the glass is half empty or half full are missing the point.  The glass is refillable.

They say every piece of chocolate eaten shortens your life by two minutes. I’ve done the maths. Seems I died in 1537.

I got myself a seniors’ GPS. Not only does it tell me how to get to my destination, it tells me why I wanted to go there.

Most people don’t think I’m as old as I am until they hear me stand up

Had I known in March that it was the last time I would be in a restaurant I would have ordered the dessert.

I don’t always go the extra mile, but when I do it’s because I’ve missed my exit.

I swear we’re fighting two pandemics. Coronavirus and stupidity.

A man was walking down the street when he was accosted by a particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless man who asked him for a couple of dollars for dinner.

The man took out his wallet, extracted ten dollars and asked, “If I give you this money, will you buy some beer with it instead of dinner?”

“No, I had to stop drinking years ago,” the homeless man replied.

“Will you spend this on green fees at a golf course instead of food?” the man asked.

“Are you NUTS!” replied the homeless man. “I haven’t played golf in 20 years!”

“Well,” said the man, “I’m not going to give you money. Instead, I’m going to take you home for a hot shower and a terrific dinner cooked by my wife.”

The homeless man was astounded.  “Won’t your wife be furious with you for doing that?

The man replied, “That’s okay.  It’s important for her to see what a man looks like after he has given up drinking and golf.”