Tee-off T's Me Off!!!

This post is in response to the news story in this weekend's Globe & Mail about the Russian (I can hear you snickering, Jen) cosmonaut who is collaborating with a Toronto golf club maker to tee off... in outer space. Apparently, during a space walk set for Wednesday, Mikhail Tyurin "plans to use a 6-iron [first thing that doesn't make sense to me] to knock a lightweight golf ball off a tee placed on top of the Russian docking port at the International Space Station [second thing that doesn't make sense to me]."

I think this is a crazy idea! To explain why, here is a visual demonstration:

PLUS

EQUALS

Translation: golf + outer space = OUTER SPACE DISASTER!

Apparently NASA "held up the golf shot for months while safety experts pored over possible flight paths for the ball to make sure it would not head back toward the station as a dangerous bit of orbital debris." Does that really make everyone feel safe? I mean, isn't outer space the place where we still don't know 99.9% of what goes on? Is it really a good idea to send useless crap up there just for the sake of a TV commercial?

I don't know a lot about golf balls, except that they are dimpled to make them fly faster (I think) and that they are to thank for the wonderful activity that is golf-cart driving... in the two or three times that I've actually been on a golf course (not counting mini-golf, which is a whole different bucket of balls) I got immense pleasure from driving a golf cart in loop-dee-loops around trees and people and flags and other convenient obstacles. This countered the displeasure I got from only being able to hit the ball once every ten or twelve swings, and even then it was usually only a grazing of the ball that result in a plop-plop-rollll of four or five measly feet. (This does not include my driving range experiences, which have been considerably more successful. Perhaps without the distraction of the golf cart I am better able to focus on my swing. Listen to me! "Focus on my swing!" That's what the professionals say.)

Anyway, the point of this rant is to say that I'm fairly sure that the universe doesn't need any more human garbage floating around in it that isn't supposed to be there, especially for a reason as lame as publicity. Who knows what could happen! Example: Unpredictable, floating debris in my backpack is responsible for gouging out the pupils of the cat on my wallet.

I just realized how violent that sentence sounds until you get to the last three words. Sorry! Oh... and sorry for the pun in the title. The internet needs more bad writers just as much as outer space needs more orbiting garbage - my bad.