As frequent readers of The Atlantic Wire know, we're big fans of Larry David, and enjoy the Curb Your Enthusiasm creator in just about anything, even if it also happens to feature Paul Reiser. So it goes without saying that we gobbled up his essay in the Shouts & Murmurs section of the new issue of The New Yorker (his first appearance in the magazine) on coming to terms with being a mediocre golfer. Even working within the magazine's strict house style guidelines, he gets off some vintage David lines in the piece, including:
- "There was a time when I was always angry on the course. Driving fast in the cart. Throwing clubs. Constantly berating myself. 'You stink, four-eyes! You stink at everything. You can’t even open a bottle of wine! You can’t swipe a credit card at the drugstore! You can’t swipe. And you’ve never even been to the Guggenheim. The Guggenheim! And call your parents, you selfish bastard!'"
- "I didn’t care, and I didn’t particularly care about the next shot, either. I felt liberated, not unlike the way I felt when my wife left me, except this time I didn’t take up skipping."