I also hit the next three balls into the water as he collapsed in fits of laughter. He had gotten into my head and I was a goner.
As a result, I got to pay for the golf, the cart and lunch while listening to him analyze my game for the next two hours.
He was the type of person Mark Twain was describing when he wrote that each of us should live our lives in such a way that, when we die, even the undertaker will be sad.
He was as vain as a peacock, as cool as a cucumber, and as charming as a riverboat gambler.
Uncle Ed was one of a kind.
Keith Kappes is a columnist for The Morehead (Ky.) News. Contact him at firstname.lastname@example.org.