November 9, 2010 - Seabee Golf Course, Port Hueneme, California

It's good to be back home.  After a week of playing catch-up and visiting our newly-married kids in Redondo Beach, we got a call from Bill Switzky (aka Little Billy), asking us if we wanted to play on the Seabee Base for a grand total of $17.00 which included 18 holes, a cart with GPS and range balls.  Who could resist that deal?  

The Base isn't my favorite place to play.  It isn't the prettiest course in the world, but it's close to home and inexpensive even when it's not $17.00.  For my level of play, I'm probably paying too much even on that course.  I wanted my first experience back home to be at Buenaventura, but it wasn't to be.

We couldn't have picked a prettier day to play.  The weather was absolutely perfect.  I have learned to appreciate our cooler weather here, especially when it comes to outdoor activities.  Playing golf in heat and humidity is an energy drain.  Our weather here can be cool and windy, especially in the afternoon, but I just pretend I'm on the links in Scotland.  I tend to run cold, so I have to bring several layers of outer garments, just in case.  I usually wear long pants unless I'm 100% certain that it will be 75 degrees or warmer.

Our outing began with us picking up our golf buddies, Bill Switzky and Mike Mahr.  Since we all live within walking distance, it was an easy thing to do, and we were on our way.  Seabee Golf Course   Bill and Mike have been playing about the same amount of time.  Rumor has it they have the same temperament on the course.  I've played with Mike a time or two before I began the blog, and if there's a "Little Mikey" around, I haven't seen him.  He may do a slow burn and release it in other ways (or have an ulcer), but I haven't witnessed any club throwing or cursing . . . yet.  Bill told me that he is restraining himself around me, which is much appreciated.  

We did not start out very well.  On the first tee, each and every one of us took our Mulligans.  It was a pathetic start, believe me.  A dribble here, a shot into the trees there, and we were off and limping along to our second shot.  Believe it or not, I rescued myself on that hole and actually shot a bogey!

 
The nice thing about playing with our neighbors is that we are all about the same level (except for Stan Weiner who is a level, if not more, above us).  We make some good shots, and then some not so good.  Stan kept hitting to the left, but still had some very nice drives and fairway shots.  He made par on the 6th and 7th hole, shot a 10 on the next one (a par 5), and then made another par all on the front 9.  It was a good day for him.  He made par on the 15th and bogeyed the 18th.  Me?  I did OK, I guess.  I bogeyed a few and made one par on the 15th, but other than that it wasn't a great performance.  

Stan won't wear his cleats.  When we first started playing, we walked this very course and Stan wore his golf shoes.  His feet were killing him after that game, so he swore off his shoes.  He wears tennis shoes or cross-trainers now, but I think it's a mistake.  His feet don't grip the ground when he swings, and his left foot swivels around.  I think it's throwing off his shot.  True to form, the husband won't listen to the wife.


Bill was our lunch angel.  He made absolutely delicious turkey and swiss sandwiches.  The turkey was sliced thin and stacked high.  He put some Maui onions on there (a nod to our Hawaii vacation but purchased in Oxnard), which I took off my sandwich.  I love onions going down, but not so much later.  We provided carrot sticks, potato chips and drinks.  There was an aggressive twosome behind us.  We let them play through on the 7th while we sat in our carts under a shady tree and ate our lunch.  It was perfect.  Thanks Bill!

Little Billy made a slight appearance today.  But Little Billy thought there might have been a Little Netsky showing as well.  I have to admit that I might have uttered an expletive or two (under my breath, of course), and I think I "dropped" my club once.  

 
Even though Bill may have been frustrated with his game, he and Mike both played well, as the scorecards show.  Mike shot 102, Bill 104, Stan 107 and I shot 108. 

Mike spoke to his lovely wife, Karen, on the 18th hole and made plans for dinner.  I was way too depressed to cook (or so I said), so at 6 pm we all made our way over to The Italian Job, a local Italian cafe.  The Mahrs and Switzkys walked.  Stan was too pooped, so we drove.

We had a lovely time there.  We have eaten there a number of times, but the Mahrs and Switzkys are very friendly with the owner, who spent some time at our table and took our picture.

Left to right:  Mike and Karen Mahr, Stan, me, Angela and Bill Switzky

We started with a wonderful antipasto.  It had grilled peppers, several cheeses (burrata, smoked and traditional mozzarella), duck pate, proscuitto and a number of other items.  Unfortunately, I forgot to take photos of our meals (I'm still learning this blogging thing), so the link to the site is below where you can get an idea of what they offer and their pricing.  I got the tortelloni with pumpkin in a delicious and creamy sauce with chopped tomato.  Stan and Bill ordered the lamb, which came with a side of potatoes that were more like breakfast potatoes than something you would see on a dinner plate.  But Stan said they were really good, and they went before the steamed vegetables, which Stan doesn't really eat anyway.  There was purple and white cauliflower, carrots and green beans in a light sauce with herbs.  Angela ordered linguini with clams, Mike ordered Spaghetti Bolognese and Karen ordered the pasta special, which was, I believe, a tortelloni stuffed with ricotta in a cream sauce.  I promise to do a better job on the food description and pricing next time.  After all, this blog is called Driving and Dining.  The Italian Job Cafe