Last winter I played golf in 28-degree weather. I was bundled up to the max and as it turned out, I was the only person on the golf course for 18 holes.

Late this spring, I played nine holes in 100-degree heat. I was walking, and I had to stop and rest in the shade three times. I thought I was going to die, but I shot a 39.

I'm not sure that 28 and 100 aren't my limits when it comes to temperature, but I can certainly say that extreme heat and extreme cold not only don't stop me from playing golf, they don't stop me from enjoying it.

Rain is a different story.

[caption id="attachment_1282" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Cold doesn&#39;t bother me."]<a href="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/20101213_3.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-1282" title="20101213_3" src="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/20101213_3-300x199.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="199" /></a>[/caption]

Ever since some bad days playing golf in the winter in California, I have hated to play in the rain. Three reasons. First, I don't like the rain falling on me when I can't use an umbrella. Second, between the ball getting wet and the course getting wet, shots don't go nearly as far as they do when it's dry.  Third and worst of all, though, is that with wet grips, my clubs keep slipping out of my hands.

I hadn't been on the golf course since we returned from Europe, so it had been almost five weeks since the last time I played. I didn't expect much, and I missed two putts in the 6-8 foot range to bogey the first two holes. But heck, I do that a lot.

Then it started raining.

With only a light rain, I struggled and double-bogeyed the third hole. Then the rain started coming down a lot harder. I pulled my cart under some trees to escape the worst of it and sat there for about 15 minutes hoping it would stop.

It stopped, but the next few shots I tried were fairly disastrous. Either the club was slipping out of my hands, or shots were landing in puddles of water and not getting any additional roll.

The only part of me that was dry was my feet, thanks to my good -- although aging -- pair of golf shoes.

[caption id="attachment_1283" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="But I don&#39;t like rain"]<a href="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/20110519_363.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-1283" title="20110519_363" src="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/20110519_363-300x199.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="199" /></a>[/caption]

So I gave up -- after three holes -- and I found myself thinking that back home in California it probably hasn't rained for at least two or three months.

<em>"L.A.'s fine, but it ain't home ..."</em>

All right, who let Neil Diamond into the blog to sing from his worst song ever?

No, California isn't my home anymore, even though I was a little surprised to realize the other day when I added the numbers up that I had lived longer in California than I had in Virginia.

If I live to be 82 -- and live here the whole time -- then Georgia will be the state where I spent the largest portion of my life. And if that's the way it's going to be, I am either going to have to get used to playing in the rain occasionally or give up some otherwise nice summer days.

It's funny. An hour before the storm, it was hot and humid. And an hour after the storm, it was sunny and hot again.

Maybe if I had been a little more patient, I could have played more than three holes of golf.

We live, we learn.

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