I've been neglecting my blog writing -- the main reason being because I'm writing again -- and, by that, I mean a story, a novel, a tale -- whatever you want to call it. I've almost gotten ten chapters written and that's always a milestone for me.
Unless you've been totally out of communication, you've probably read about a golfer named Tiger. If you don't know where he is, I'll tell you. He's right here, in my hometown of Augusta, Georgia, for that little tournament known as the Masters.
If you detect a bit of sarcasm, you'd be correct.
Now, I don't have any problem with golf -- or Tiger Woods, for that matter -- he has a wife and children to answer to, not me. I don't really even mind that my town becomes a tourist (and media, especially this year) mecca for one week out of the year -- the Masters brings in a lot of money to the area. Augusta gets "cleaned up" the week before the tournament -- somehow they always find the funds for that even if, during the rest of the year, they just let a lot of areas go to seed. People rent out their houses (a point of pride and superiority for some) to fans and golfers and Augusta becomes the center of the golfing universe amid the azaleas, wisterias and dogwoods -- and massive amounts of pollen.
So, what is it that I don't like about the Masters? I'm going to focus on one thing, though there are others -- but I don't have all day and neither do you. So here goes.
Women are not allowed to be members of the Augusta National (which is the actual name of the golf course). Now, I don't want to be a member -- no desire and no use for it -- but I hate to think that a female can play the course only if she's in the company of a male member.
You may interpret and visualize that last line any way you prefer.
What I hate more than that is how many women are fine with such a thing. Now, I can understand older women feeling that way but, when a younger one says it doesn't matter, I so want to climb on their heads and beat them about the neck and shoulders. I don't call myself a feminist -- I actually do think there are appropriate times and places for the sexes to be separate. However, there is a difference in playing in a tournament (for which you have to qualify) and being a member of a golf course. I'm not saying women should play in the Masters itself, I'm just saying to keep someone from joining a golf club based on sex, in this day and age, just goes against my grain. If golf was something only a man could do, that would be one thing but women can play golf, too. I'm not talking ability here, either. I'm sure a lot of men who are members of the National can't play worth squat -- but they had some sort of connection (people/money) which got them a stamp of approval on their application form.
Oh, yeah, in case you didn't know -- it was only a few years ago -- not fifty -- that they had to change the rules about blacks being able to be members. They had to in order to accommodate Tiger Woods. See, people would have screamed bloody murder about that (and, rightfully so) but women? Eh...whatever...
I compare the Augusta National to the Vatican:
A small plot of land, in the middle of a city, ruled tyrannically by a group of old farts. And, best of all, even if you make a mistake (in your private or public life), you're sheltered and protected.
Well, what can you say. It's not about what's right. It's all about what's green.
Welcome to LIS!!
As an aspiring writer, I blog about whatever happens to move me at the moment -- though some posts contain serious content, my big-picture goal is to bring a little humor into an often humorless world! Welcome, y'all, and make yourself at home! Please make sure you update your bookmarks!
When you are offended at any man's fault, turn to yourself and study your own failings. Then you will forget your anger...Epictetus