In recent months, after an almost twenty-year hiatus, I started playing golf again. Playing alone, as I often do (since my siblings have all moved far away and none of my friends are golfers), and spending a fair amount of time in the woods (since I have no idea where the swing I used to have went), I find lots of lost golf balls. I kept finding one brand of ball far more often than all of the others, a brand I had never heard of (the major names of golf balls having changed very little over the two decades I wasn’t wandering into the trees in search of mine): Kirkland. I mentioned this to a couple of guys recently. “They’re okay balls,” was the consensus. PUBLISHED IN VOL 38 ISSUE 4