Gauguin, van Gogh and Gulbis, a triple threat in the wonderful world of art.

Gauguin and van Gogh, of course, remain unparalleled as post-impressionist artists. And Gulbis? It’s Natalie Gulbis, the LPGA Tour’s resident hottie, who represents a purely magnificent post-pubescent art form. I appreciate art, and the Gulbis form is a masterpiece.

That appreciation blossomed when Gulbis emboldened the pages of the 2012 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue, wearing only a hand-painted bikini on her bum and bust. Talk about wondrous flesh tones.

I confess that I’m old enough to be Natalie’s father--maybe even grandfather, some cruel hearts would say. While many summers of golf have come and gone, I still possess fine motor skills, and Natalie definitely revs my engine.

The two of us have history.

Months after the swimsuit issue, we ran into each other at the LPGA Tour stop near Toledo. I was in near-jog, head down, rushing toward a concession stand for a health snack--OK, it was a damn hot dog, heavy on the grease, please. Natalie was steaming toward the practice tee, head down in her iPhone. We both looked up at the last moment, exchanging “excuse me’s” as we sidestepped each other.

It happened so fast I didn’t have time to attempt any surefire pick-up lines, like inviting her over to view my etchings, although I fear the only etchings she might have noticed are those crinkle cut on my weathered face.

Then last year at the same Toledo tourney, I found myself stalking--scratch that--FOLLOWING her group on the back nine. She hit a short iron to within easy birdie range, then made a beeline across the fairway toward me.

Me? Yes, she was coming right at me. Natalie obviously remembered our run-in from the year before. She closed so fast, in fact, I didn’t even have time to apply the Facelift In A Jar cream that I always carry. Then as I reached out to receive her warm embrace, she was by me, hugging some dude named Josh standing two yards to my left.

Word is always a little slow to reach Toledo, but apparently everyone but me knew that Josh and Natalie had announced their engagement a couple weeks earlier.

While I’m unequaled as a romantic rascal, Natalie went ahead and married Josh boy anyway, leaving me to stumble down the lonely cart path of life without her, unhinged from reality as always.

 
 
This isn’t the first time the Bogeyville Blogger won’t make any sense, but I think tour players should lay down their belly putters now, long before the Jan. 1, 2016, ban begins.

Why? I can’t shake the feeling they’re sort of cheating. I know, I know--they can legally use these weapons of mass money-making for another 16 months to fatten their bankrolls, but I’d have more respect for them if they returned to conventional putting immediately.

Major winners Keegan Bradley (2011 PGA Championship), Webb Simpson (2012 U.S. Open) and Adam Scott (2013 Masters) along with senior tour stars Bernhard Langer and Fred Couples come to mind as renown belly-putter proponents.

I like their games…don’t hold personal animus toward them…I just detest this putting style. Maybe that’s why I bellyache so much. I did give it a thorough try once--10 whole minutes--the longest, most uncomfortable time in my life, missing every putt attempted. From that point, I bid belly putting bye-bye.

The supreme rulers of golf, the United States Golf Association and the Royal and Ancient, exorcised anchor/belly putters from the body of golf last year.

In some respects, I loathe siding with these stodgy codgers, the protectors of golf tradition. This isn’t the first time the terrible twins have raised a fuss over putting. Forty-six years ago, they banned croquet-style putting used by Sam Snead in his attempt to overcome the yips.

The USGA deemed the between-the-legs croquet stroke “too bizarre,” while Bobby Jones said it didn’t look like golf. Tradition ruled over putting practicality. When the ban took effect on Jan. 1, 1968, the 50-something Snead switched to side-saddle putting and heard no further nays from the USGA and R&A. The Slammer successfully competed on tour well into his 60s.

Now, a half century later, I suggest players take immediate steps to wean themselves from belly putters. I don’t know if I can stomach seeing the extreme delirium tremors these great golfers may exhibit if they wait until 2016 to go cold turkey.