Zappa canned a six-footer for his first sub-par roundBrent Humphreys

Until 11 years ago, when a guitar-string maker named, yes, Sterling Ball invited him to play in a charity golf event, Zappa had never swung a club. "I really stunk it up that day," Zappa says. "But I stuck with it, took some lessons and tried to improve."

On the first hole today, Zappa coolly draws the ball some 265 yards down the middle, smooths an 8-iron to 22 feet and ho-hums the snake into the cup for birdie. There's no fist pump, and if his pulse spikes it's not evident as he retrieves his Pro V1x and ambles off the green like Retief Goosen on Prozac. "I don't get too angry when I hit a bad shot, and I don't get too excited when I hit a good one," Zappa says. "That's the only way I can play, and it's the way I approach life: I expect the absolute worst all the time, so when something good happens it's a bonus."

Zappa is a born guitarist.Courtesy of Favored Nations Records

During one episode, the camera crew shadowed Zappa at Bill Murray's charity tournament at St. Andrews Golf & Country Club in West Chicago as Dweezil carded his first sub-par round, a 1-under 71. "I had to make a six-footer at 18 to finish under par," Zappa says. "I knocked it in like I was making a tap-in bogey or something — that was the feeling I had, rather than 'Oh, this is exciting!' "

Today he calmly bogeys a few holes, including a three-putt and a violent lip-out. His demeanor never changes, nor do his impeccable cadence and posture, a result of countless golf lessons and many sessions with the fitness gurus at Body Balance for Performance Center, a nationwide chain whose golf-fitness program was developed by Paul Callaway, the PGA Tour's first director of physical therapy. (Callaway has worked with Tiger Woods and Jack Nicklaus; Phil Mickelson's full-swing coach, Rick Smith, is a Body Balance endorser.)

Brent Humphreys

His earnestness is all well and good, but a personal question nags: How does Zappa reckon his father — author of such timeless anti-bourgeois poesy as "Be a loyal plastic robot for a world that doesn't care" — would have taken to his son's playing the genteel game of senators and CEOs?

"We didn't talk about sports much, though he did like a game of badminton," says Zappa. "But I don't think he'd be upset that I play golf. For my dad, the ultimate disgraceful pursuit would be becoming an A&R man at a record company, and the second-worst would have been a lawyer. Golf is harmless by comparison."

Frank might even have been proud to see his son hold his own in pro-am foursomes that have included Paul Azinger, Justin Leonard, Davis Love III and Curtis Strange, whose reputation for prickliness rivaled the elder Zappa's.

"I guess Strange used to be so focused that he wasn't too friendly to amateurs," Zappa recalls. "People kept saying to me, 'Oh, you got Mr. Personality.' But not only was he generous and helpful, I got a thank-you note from him afterward."

On the back nine, Zappa's concentration slips a notch, due in part to a pending afternoon recording session. At the 476-yard par-4 18th, a fearsome finisher, we lay a friendly buck wager. The baby-faced hustler blows a 5-wood into the greenside bunker, but gets up-and-down and into my pocket without breaking a sweat. Apparently, that Aquarian Age share-and-share-alike thing isn't genetic.

Unlacing his shoes in the parking lot, Zappa pauses a moment before answering the inevitable question about golf and music and how the two cross wires. "Some people talk about rhythm and tempo," he says, "but for me it's about creative problem solving. When you're about to play a guitar solo, you visualize where you want your fingers to go. Same thing with a golf shot — it's something that didn't exist before and you made it happen. That's really cool."