America’s DNA rejects elitism. If you watched the animated feature, Ratatouille, it’s market appeal is through its anti-elitist stance. “Anyone can cook,” is the motto of Chef Gusteau. But look closely, and you see that it’s message is still elitist in its original sense: that the best qualities are in fact rare qualities that deserve to be celebrated. 

America’s political tapestry is fraught with this uneasy relationship with elitism. It walks hand in hand with America’s uneasiness with class. American political figures sublimate their blue blood and ivory tower schooling to avoid looking “out of touch.” George H.W. Bush looked titanically out of touch when he marvelled at grocery store bar code scanners -this was likely a generation gap issue, but out of touch with the common man (and woman) he looked. George W. Bush, despite the ichor and Yale/Harvard background, talks like an assistant manager at the Wal Mart in Plano and got a second term where his father failed. Both, by the way, are golfers. I don’t know if they are golfists. 

Golf is in siege mode because it is viewed as the sport of the elite, particularly when it applies to politics. In some corners, it fits the same bill as polo, fox hunting, and oil drilling. The fact remains, it is costly to maintain 18 verdant holes, to buy good equipment, and to get lessons during childhood (to get that good swing). The time it takes to play a round on a busy East Coast public course runs up to 5 hours, taking up a whole day. 

Golf is like whiskey -you mostly drink it in private, you don’t talk about it, and your moderate your consumption. The good stuff is basically out of reach of the average bloke, but there is plenty of cheap stuff to make it attainable. Bottom line though, it is a luxury, and fie on the fellow who imbibes daily. As a luxury, it is morally suspect to enjoy it too much. 

Golfism changes that. Read the USGA rules of golf and you see the New England Primer, the U.S. Constitution, and the Rule of St. Benedict: words that bring structure and order to a stochastic universe. Playing golf, then, is a celebration of a way of life. How can you live without it. If you can’t live without it, how can it be a luxury? Any way you look at it, a year of golf is cheaper than a year of Prozac and counseling, and better for you. How is that a luxury? Playing golf means you aren’t flirting with women who aren’t your wife, it means taking the time to think about the meaning of your life and your place in the world, and being a better person. 

On the course, you are a better man than you are off of it. You let people through. You report your sins and assign your own punishment. You keep a respectful silence as other people go about their business. You offer to share your cigars. If all of the world adhered to golf ettiquette, we would have none of the current mess we are in.

addendum: 12-25-2008 -reading through my blog this past year, I realize that when the playing season effectively ended with the first frosts, my blog has been mostly about the grievances of a middle-aged man. No apologies here. Swinging the golf club serves the same function as the whirling dances of the dervish, the inhalation of the mind altering vapors of the oracle,  and the rhythmic drum beating of the shaman. Without it, without the connection to the spiritual plane, all we have is our myopic vision on the middle world and our daily struggles to survive. May your ball find the hole efficiently.