It's so damn easy to hurt people's feelings, even when you have no intention of doing so.

My last three years in California were fairly miserable, although there were plenty of happy moments. But I was out of work, my 25-year fantasy baseball league fell apart and my weight got up to 280 pounds. I had to go to Texas to straighten out my life, and when I got back to Glendale in July, I was counting the days until my fresh start in Georgia.

But California was still a third of my life to date, and in many ways it was the very best third. The years 1990-2010 covered my marriage to the wonderful Nicole and my entire relationship with Pauline and Virgile, who are truly my pride and joy. They covered the five years I worked as a columnist and the two years I have been a grandfather to little Madison Nicole.

It also meant 15 years of golf outings at Empire Lakes, Royal Vista, Brookside, El Cariso and Alhambra, among others, with my golfing buddies Chuck Donofrio and Mick Curran. Mick has been my friend since I was 15, and although I didn't meet Chuck until 1993, he became the kind of friend that you just don't make as a middle-aged guy. I haven't played golf in six weeks, since the last time Chuck, Mick and I went out at Empire Lakes in Rancho Cucamonga, California.

I've been gazing at the course here at Sun City -- mostly the first tee and the ninth green -- but I have yet to try the course. Golf really isn't as much fun when you go out and play 18 holes by yourself. I learned that in Texas this summer.

[caption id="attachment_663" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Near the hole"]<a href="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Texas-108.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-663" title="Texas 108" src="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Texas-108-300x199.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="199" /></a>[/caption]

I'll probably play golf for as long as I'm able. It's good exercise for a man in his 60s and I do enjoy the game. But I know I'm never again going to have as much fun as I had for 15 years playing with Chuck and Mick, and I seriously doubt I live in the land of year-round golf anymore.

When I went out to the drugstore tonight at 10 p.m., the temperature outside was 29 degrees. That's the lowest temperature it has been anywhere I have lived since the winter of 1989-90, my second winter in Reno. It didn't get much above 40 during the day, and it's not supposed to be much better than that for the next couple of days.

I do love living in Georgia, but it ain't Eden.