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About this blog

Randy and the gang at Rockbottum Country Club pontificate on Rockbottum wisdom and skeletal golf, among other madness.

Entries in this blog

Rockbottum Radio: Tell it all, Brother, tell it all...

In this sensitive and revealing episode of Rockbottum Radio, the entire crew tells it all, aided by literary inspiration from Matt Jones and Peter McCormick... and Momma's Mushroom Truth Serum. Learn what really happened on Ludell's honeymoon and how Rockbottum plans to handle the ball rollback and Golf A.I.  Buddy returns from working on Science Interfusional National, an A.I. course, and then RW screws everything up by telling why he's been deliberately provoking the Imperials for 50

In The Back Of The Night

It's that time of year when strange things happen, so it was no surprise when Freddy and Toad--effectively half of the Rockbottum CC crew--went missing while leaf-looking up on Dead Owl Ridge. Taking a great risk, Bodell saddled up to go find Freddy and Toad in the dark forests of North Georgia . . . and now Bodell and Willie are missing, too.  

Randy Wilson

Randy Wilson in Storytime

Tales from the Night Waterman (2007)

The following is a reprint from 2007 for a special request. True confession:  I was a teenage night waterman.  It began innocently enough, with an impact Rain Bird fixation.  As a pre-teen golfer and offspring of a pro/super/general manager, my playing time often was compressed to that golden hour just before sunset when the big impact-driven sprinkler heads began to appear on the course. They stood tall, threw water over 100 feet and emitted a soothing, rhythmic noise that could be he

Randy Wilson

Randy Wilson in Storytime

The Four Horses' Posteriors

It's Storytime.  Once upon a time, long ago, a country club way out in the boonies--where Dad was the Pro/Supt/GM--held a combined Halloween golf tournament/debutante ball and squirrel cookout.  As Dad was usually reluctant to attend such glitzy affairs, I was instructed to represent him.  Since I wasn't old enough to drive yet, Dad left me behind to close up the pro shop and the maintenance barn--it was an actual barn--plug in the carts, clean the pool and keep an eye on things.  His exact inst

Randy Wilson

Randy Wilson in Storytime

Buddy's Mask Experiment

In this time of turmoil and division, we offer something to bring us together:  Rockbottum Storytime. Thirty years ago, Buddy began to wonder which mask was more effective.  Was it the common dust mask?  The surgical mask?  Or perhaps the trusty bandanna?  It had nothing to do with spraying or virus prevention or looking cool, it was entirely due to Buddy's office trouble.  Located next to the crew restroom, Buddy's office was plagued with sudden waves of a malodorous stench capable of pene

Randy Wilson

Randy Wilson in Storytime

I Was a Teenage Night Waterman

It was in California, 1968, during the peak of the Viet Nam war protests, that I first heard the mystical rhythmic pulse of a big impact sprinkler calling my name, luring me into a career of nocturnal irrigationism.  If only I had known that the glorious era of the Night Waterman was almost over. After several years in in the cold, wet mountains of Bavaria, we arrived in the sunny San Joaquin Valley where Dad took a job at Sunnyside, an exclusive country club. At Sunnyside, I was allow

Randy Wilson

Randy Wilson in Storytime


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