When I arrived at the office this morning, I was chatting with two of the girls who work here full-time (unlike those of us who just blow in and out of town for the tournament). I mentioned my interest in the flag-painted house around the corner, and they told me those folks did that to their house on Sept. 12, 2001, and that it has remained that way since.

They expressed their displeasure with the display, indicating that "this is the sort of thing that makes people think we're all redneck hicks."

So while having breakfast 15 minutes later, I was reading the local paper. Although we're not in Arkansas, I think this would fall in line with the type of things they find troubling.

"I think we've delved into an area that we really have no business making a rule out of, unless somebody's been spit on or they've thrown up because they looked into a cup or something like that."

Indeed.

You know, it's worth mentioning that whenever I say "office," what I really mean is "golf course." But if I say golf course, people think I'm out screwing around instead of working 17-hour days, which is in fact the case. So I say office. But you know what I mean.