Point taken.

From the moment I stepped off the airplane that rainy night in January 1982, Homer Kelley was always Yoda to me. I had flown from Atlanta to Seattle to be personally trained and authorized by him as a GSEM.

He said he would meet me, and as we passengers spilled from the plane into the terminal, I looked to my left and there he was. A little guy in a green jacket and porkpie hat, standing humbly but resolutely just outside the ropes amid the waiting family and limo drivers. He held chest-high a handwritten cardboard sign that read "G.O.L.F. "

Yoda.

Looked like him. Talked like him. Was like him.

Proudly, Yoda, Jr. works for me!