Bogey Boggs
by Eric Miller
Bartlett
Barrington Boggs should have personified the
phrase “to the manor born." With a name
like that, how could it be otherwise? Alas,
that is exactly what it was: otherwise.
You see,
Bartlett was a whoops baby: unplanned, unexpected,
and unfortunately a tad bit unwelcome. Bartlett's
father, Butley Butterstone Boggs, an over-the-top
ne'er-do-well, who spent his life chasing his
dream of fame and glory, which was wrapped in a
golf ball, thought Bartlett should be called
Bogey. His thinking was impeccable: he was the
sixth of five boys, making him one over par on a
par five hole. One would presume that Mom might
have had other leanings; however, she thought the
idea wonderful, since she was enamored with
Humphrey Bogart, none other than the silver
screened Bogie.
And that is
how Bartlett became forever known as Bogey,
a moniker which neutralized any aristocratic
nuance left in Barrington, and which spurred
Bogey to become one of those one name people like
the original Bogie, as well as others like Cher,
Sting, Madonna, Bono, Ishmael, Liberace, Oprah,
Spock, and Tarzan.
Ironically,
Bogey wasn't interested in irons or woods,
drivers or putters; or holes in one, eagles, or
pars. He wanted to be a writer, which if you
think about it, is somewhat related to being a
golfer. After all, word counts are similar to
stroke counts. Chapters are separate entities,
like golf greens, and they are both linked
collectively, in a book or on a fairway. The
first letter of the first word of each chapter is
the drive off the tee, and the last letter of the
last word in the last chapter is the final putt.
Bogey felt
like he was scarred with divots, but he
persevered and followed his dream. He didn't
complain when his balls didn't break in the right
direction on the greens, just as he didn't
complain when he was getting his balls broken by
agents and publishers. For a guy who never used a
caddy, he was surrounded by catty experts who
told him that whatever he would write would be
wrong.
But Bogey did
find his groove, as he tapped his words, birdied
his pages, and published a book named "Bogeyville,”
which topped the charts for more than a year. The
book was made into a movie, for which Bogey,
himself, wrote the screenplay, and in which he
was cast in the lead. He wished that his Mom
could have been at the film’s opening night,
and at the Academy Awards several months later.
And on that special night, dressed in a tuxedo,
he looked like “to the manor born.”
With his Oscar held high, as he stood before his
peers, he gave thanks to his parents for naming
him Bogey, and then he cried out: “Don’t
shoot for pars. Don’t settle for bogeys. Fly
on the wings of birdies and eagles to reach your
dream.”
As he walked
from the stage, his smile was as big as a divot
could be.
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