So today I played a round of golf with three very pleasant guys. (I played horribly. I think maybe I was going back too far in the backswing, I’m not sure. But I digress.)

Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower. Politicians on the course, good. Political talk on the course, not good.

They were very pleasant indeed. One of the gentlemen had been a pilot for several airlines and had shuttled around the world major league baseball teams, LPGA players, George W. Bush, President Obama, when he was a candidate, Barbara Streisand and her husband James Brolin, and many more big names. Very cool.

This pleasant gentleman also called President Obama “the antichrist.”

Well, isn’t that just ducky.

Thanks to a conversation on the fifth tee, I discovered that all three of the men were raging Republicans and were thrilled with the recent election’s outcome. “What did you think of the election,” one asked, “did you like it?”

“Loved it!”

“YES!”

One asked me if I liked it.

“Noooooo.”

And then I shut up. I let them talk. I hated that they had even brought the election up, but then they were best friends and had been for many years, so really, I was the interloper. I took the high ground and bit my tongue. And lip. And half of my middle finger.

I shut up because it was the better part of valor—and also, I must admit, because I had been playing wretchedly and just didn’t need to get all exorcised.

All in all, I had a nice time, but I do wish people would avoid talking politics or religion on the golf course.

I don’t need the stress, man!