If you could walk a mile in my shoes…

img_2021Men like shoes. Golf shoes. The first step in liberation is to appropriate the language of the oppressor. Why did I buy the sassy brown shoes when the Callaway blacks were perfectly serviceable? was the question. 

“They were so cute, I had to buy them,” was my response. 

As I prepared for my golfing journey, I spent long hours preparing my sticks -scrubbing last year’s caked on dirt from Hype, Legacy, and Waveland. The grooves that would impart the guiding and lofting spin and brakes, the grip that acts as the intermediary object between this world and the golfing spirit plane, and the shaft that translates torque and kinetic energy into momentum transfer into the ball. 

The balls are the Costco Titleists -they cost somewhere in between Titleists premium brand and their bargain brand, and behave closer the high end of the golf ball bandwidth having a nice soft feel around the greens, excellent stopping power, and good flight. They are the few fun items that I grab while purchasing large quantities of meat and dry goods from the dispensary of modern delights.

The main bag has been replaced with a Callaway branded walking hybrid bag. Not the completely minimalist bag of my teen years which was just a vinyl sack, but rather a light composite bag with enough dark notes to give it the appearance of heft, but very light and heftable for a walk on the course. I purchased a Callaway airline bag which just fits over this bag, and will protect my clubs well.

The clubs have undergone a great deal of modification since last year. I purchased a Taylormade R7 Quad driver that is completely blacked out to instill awe and fear. I ditched my temperamental 3 wood and trusty 5 wood for a Nike Sasquatch Sumo 4 wood. Back in the day, my persimmon 4 wood (a middle spoon) was my go to club for driving under pressure -I once launched it close to 300 yards on a dry downhill hole with the wind, but it had a small head that let it pass through medium rough with ease. The square head on the SS 4 wood lets me hit off center with miminal loss of power. There is some degree of gear effect, and I found that it is the most forgiving of my long clubs. 

My three iron became the household rabbit masher after I purchased a Callaway X-hybrid. This season, my missing 4 iron has been replaced with a X-4H hybrid as well. The remaining irons (5 thru P) are Callaway X-18’s. I carry three lofted wedges, all Cleveland of 52, 56, and 60 degrees. 

My putter which gave me fits last year, has been heavily modified with a thickened grip over taped with leftover squash grip from my college days. I have been hitting a quarter reliably on my putting rug at 6 feet, so here’s to hoping.

I have packed a good supply of ibuprofen for the middle aged man aches, and cough syrup for the crud that has been going around the house, G’s school, and my place of work. I am packing Deepak Chopra’s Golf for Enlightenment (link). 

We’ll be gathering at the physician’s lounge at the hospital for lunch.

The Commuter

snc10290

It’s 14 miles from my house to my place of work. I do this by car every dy, usually at day break. What I notice is not the number of cars on the road with me, but the fact that in each car, large and small, sits usually one driver.

In a world of abundant energy, this makes sense -who wants to walk to a subway station or wait in the rain for a bus? Our city planning is centered around the car, with multilane highways and huge parking lots which render walking a frazzling venture for only the very young or very poor. No car, no job. 14 miles is about 3-4 hours by walking, 2-3 hours by horse, an hour by bike, but a perfectly reasonable 20 minutes by car. It allows us to live in “the country” with large lots and trees, away from the city which is surprisingly empty of people before and after work hours. Very few people walk on the sidewalks of downtown. 

Last year, when gas went over 4 dollars a gallon, this meant 8 dollars a day to go to and from work. For people who live an hour out, usually because these homes cost less, this translated into 20 dollars a day (assuming a slightly more fuel efficient car), or a hundred dollars a week, or 400 dollars a month. Because of the economics of our car based lifestyle, the majority of people who make 40,000 or less live further out to share in the benefits of the American dream -a lawn, a 3-4000 square foot house. This 400 dollars a month or 4800 dollars after taxes easily translates into 10-20% of income. 

It was unsustainable for many, and the downturn in the economy, with slip in demand, brought a welcome reprieve to most who have managed to keep their jobs. The problem is that we have this moment to try to fix some of this, and likely we won’t. With the prices down, it makes sense to move closer to one’s place of work or move that work closer to the home. Walking distance is best. The problem is the suburbs and exurbs are not designed for bipedal commuting. Grocery stores are miles away, minutes by car but up to an hour by walking. 

When the economy revives, demand will spike, and gas prices will go back to where they were last summer. This is a sure thing. What to do?

The sensible thing would be to increase the gas tax, ratchet it up slightly to make it hurt less. This was something proposed by President Carter a generation ago, so that we could bank during times of plenty, to develop energy alternatives because America’s oil reserves had gone “past peak.”

What is peak oil? In any oil field, there is a finite amount of oil. In any country’s sovereign territory, there are only so much oil accessible with available technology. As the oil runs out of a field, it takes more money to extract this oil. As known oil fields are tapped out, money needs to be expended exploring and developing newer fields. Investments must be made in extraction technologies. The oil wrung out of the fields may cost more than simply importing it -this is what the US faced in the seventies. We had gone past peak and every subsequent year, less oil was available domestically, and more had to be brought in from abroad. 

This has had many consequences. For a while, North Sea fields belonging to the UK and Scandinavian countries kept prices down and we had the flush years of the 80’s and 90’s -exactly the times when we should have been banking this wealth for future times of need. Carter saw this, being an engineer, and understood it. But America became besotted with cheap oil which allowed for cheap food and cheap stuff -all byproducts of petroleum (ref Omnivore’s Dilemma, Michael Pollan). It was made blind by 2, 4, and 6 year election cycles, when 10-100 year vision was needed. 

It is a closely held secret -the estimated reserves of the Saudi oil kingdom, but many experts believe that it has passed its peak. The hidden gift of this recession is cheap gas, but it is also a curse, because the impetus and economic incentive to purse energy alternatives while promoting conservation are gone when gas prices drop due to low demand. Think about this when you sit in traffic, idling that SUV along with everyone else sitting alone in their car. 

reference

The Long Emergency, James Howard Kunstler. 

World Golf Tour goes full beta

World golf tour which was stuck in a permanent mini-trial state has finally gone full beta with two courses and social network structure. The images are in high def and all you need is a high speed connection and windows explorer browser. The detail is very good, I think better than Tiger Woods. You can hear the productivity being sucked into this game faster than you can say Dow 5000. You only get a choice of three avatars, but luckily, I found one that looked just like me. That’s why I’m voting for the Korean guy, just like that other Korean guy Colin Powell.

Ether Day – 1913 Open – Election Day 2008


We just past Ether Day, the anniversary of the first operation under general anesthesia performed at Massachusetts General Hospital on October 16, 1846. Imagine operating without anesthesia, being held down by burley attendants, swigging a shot of whiskey for numbness, and biting a bullet for perseverance. For golf, its game changing Ether Day had to have been Ouimet’s victory at the Open. The coming election day is such a day. Despite the efforts of people trying to declare parts of America un-American, do the American thing and vote. I just did yesterday.

Certain things bind us together and other things will drive us apart. Remember, even in competition, Ouimet and Vardon were gentleman. We can’t let the coarse turbulent rhetoric become the epitaph of American unity. After the election, the effort has to be made to bring everyone back into the fold. Compassion and sportsmanship has to return to politics or we will see a disUnited States.

Wakonda shows me her incisions, healing nicely.

Fall at Wakonda is usually a brutal time. The fabric of space-time rips and golf balls disappear into these multi-dimensional portals. I’ve lost golf balls on the greens due to the leaves. I imagine these balls falling through some worm-hole and ending up as the cherished plaything of some child in the Pleistocene. I digress.

The renovations have been something I’ve mostly watched from the parking lot and driving range. I decided to take a golf cart for a spin around the course with my iPhone.

No dogs or vascular surgeons allowed...

No dogs or vascular surgeons allowed...

The new grass has taken, and the course looks ready to play. The grass on the greens has been mowed and does look great. The image to the right is the new practice green which greatly expands the area. New topography, including moguls and half-pipes, have been added. What I look forward to is having the practice green reflect the quality and nature of the actual greens on the course. I thought that the practice green had become a bit of a Potemkin green that looked a lot better than the actual greens on the course -now they are one and the same.

The drive was pleasant -and obviously popular as I saw another pair on a golf cart driving about. I drove up to number ten, which wasn’t changed at all. In fact, I could have hit approaches onto number 10 with impunity as the green had already seen action having been put in in 2007. I turned about and peaked at number 8, which didn’t strike me as much different. And then I saw number 11. Shown here on the left, I had featured it on an earlier blog entry as the “Carnival Hole.” The big Misery Tree was gone. So had the Crown of Thorns -the oaky headdress at the top of number 11 which shaded the green. It was a different look, and it took a moment to get used to -in fact, it will take a long time. The basic premise of the hole is now different. The drive no longer has to be left center and long. You can be fade right and have a reasonable approach. The pit of despair to the right hasn’t changed. Balls will still roll down and away if they come in too hot.

Here was the surgery revealed to me. It was like a face transplant. The skin was different and new, but the underlying bone structure was the same refined, beautiful Wakonda. As if to add emphasis to the change, the stylist cut back the hair, daring the observer to comment about the surgery. And where are the scars? They will be on your soul, my friend.

I cut back and down number 17 which hadn’t changed too much, and up 18. The trees lining the fairway were are still there -these are signature features and won’t be touched unless they become unstable or are blown down.

Oak privacy fence, to hide your shame

Oak privacy fence, to hide your shame

As we end the long march to the new presidency, I realize that in many ways, the renovations were not that painful for this member. Compared to the presidential campaign, the renovations were a breeze. Growing tomatoes takes longer. During that time, I sampled the golf fare at other courses and made new golfing friends. The fellowship of other golfists leavens the soul, and a new golf friend is a welcome ally against the oncoming Troubles.

The flag shows your way home

The ride up number 18 shows it hasn’t been changed. Seeing Ol’ Glory flapping above the green invigorated me. Presidents will change, and times will get tough before they get better, but golf will always be there. Remember, golf clubs can always be repurposed into dinner catching rabbit dispatchers.

DMGCC greens revealed to be anatomic

I had always wondered why the greens at DMGCC never matched up with the course. The course itself is fair, and I rarely lose balls. The greens were driving me to distraction, and now I know why. They are all contoured on various parts of the female torso. I noticed it when I was stuck on the right butt cheek putting across ass cleavage to the left butt cheek. No kidding. Tee to fringe, very nice course. Greens -topography straight from Venus de Milo.

Why is golf played by white, suburbanites? asks Bill Pennington, or so it seems.

Bill Pennington’s article in the NYT (link here) gives me a bit of a pause, as I do have opinions about the curse of nativism that forms part of the American political fabric on both sides of the divide. He brings up the possibility that diversity is an asset, by pointing out the homogeneity of the US side -without mentioning Anthony Kim, my homey spectaculare. Basically, the article didn’t make much sense to me as the European side isn’t exactly the Mod Squad. 

Bill’s inconsistencies aside, I do think that golf in the US does suffer from the image of Spaulding Smails lurching about at the country club (interview with fellow who played him below). I don’t think that the US team can be faulted for its composition, but I do believe that all of us as golfers need to do better to spread the word about golf. We should consider it our mission as committed golfists to invite and encourage beginners rather than insulated yourself with your usual cronies. 

 

update:

US wins Ryder Cup! Anthony Kim’s match with Sergio was accompanied by the sound of a giant doorbell going bing – bong.

Whatd’I shoot? Oh, I had a 79 yesterday, but my back hurts today, just can’t swing the club as well.

Part 1

Part 2

I will need dental work from grinding my teeth while watching these. It is obvious that she doesn’t know a gap wedge from a mid-iron. That you take stroke and distance with out of bounds. If she gets elected, and McCain succumbs to his age (actuarially has about 3-5 years left), she will be our president. She’s claiming she’s scratch. 

So you go play a round with her, and she can’t hit a straight ball. You catch her rolling the ball in the rough. You see her grounding the club in the hazard. She walks across your line on the green. And after many complaints about her back interfering with her swing, you come across the scorecard which has herself two under par. Who are you kidding?

This is a dangerous person who is the apotheosis (a big word she probably doesn’t know) of a culture of purposeful ignorance. She’s that crazy mid-level manager that somehow ended up CEO and will fire anyone who doesn’t hold up her mirror. The question about the Bush doctrine was salient, and will probably be lost on 90% of America that can’t locate Iraq on a globe, much less the US. The Bush doctrine is really about that crazy neighbor that runs out onto the yard with a shotgun when your kid steps on his lawn. That is us, from the world’s point of view, after the debacle that is Iraq. She flips and flops on global warming and tries to come off playing Al Gore.

It’s as if that crazy PTO mom who scares all the other mommies is now going to be your president.

Sarah Palin’s Vanity Handicap – and I take my stand.

“Oh, I’m a ten handicap.”

Every once in a while, I will play with someone declares they are a 9 to 12 handicap. This is a suspicious number for me, as too often than not, it is a vanity handicap for a bogey golfer (or worse) who deludes himself with low scores. With one individual, I saw him take a double bogey and declare it a par – “it would have been a par, and I can’t take that six because I don’t sandbag.” Which was meant “I don’t sandbag like you.” I had driven him to distraction because I opened with a birdie on his course, and then proceeded to par the next four holes. It was an extraordinary stretch consisting of 190 yard shots landing and skidding to a halt ten feet from the hole, a sand blast to inches, drives that carved the fairways, and putts -really long putts, that dropped. I was carrying a 17 handicap at that time, and it was easily the best stretch of golf I had played up to that point. After he said that, my zone of invulnerability popped as I wanted to wrap my golf club around his neck. He settled into a comfortable pattern of 200 yard drives, 130 yard 7 irons, and fussy chips and drawn out 2 putt bogeys and occasional pars, carding a 92. I ended up with 95 and I posted my score. He didn’t because, he declared again that he was no sandbagger. 

I keep reading Sarah Palin’s press releases and the bile rises and it’s that vanity handicap all over. She claims to be a budget cutter, but bills Alaskan for 300 days worked from home, 600 miles from the capital. She claims credit for an unbuilt pipeline. She claims to be a Republican (Party of Lincoln, liberty, competence, efficiency, and brilliance) but tried to censor books, crushed people who got in her way, and put cronies in positions of power -actually, I guess she is what passes for a Republican these days. She claims to be an American, but gave support to Alaskan separatists. 

She brays about playing scratch when she really is a bogey golfer who plays with mulligans on every hole, rolled balls on the fairway, and 5 foot gimme’s. 

The vanity handicap is that most awful of lies. Sandbaggers lie to others with awareness of their lies. People with vanity handicaps lie to themselves and are incapable of seeing through their delusion. When confronted, they wrap themselves up in self righteousness.

I believe that Mrs. Palin believes she is incapable of lying, believes everything she says is true, and has neither insight nor empathy. She is an empty vessel for broadcasting hacked speeches for Rove. John McCain, whom I once greatly admired, has betrayed us all by putting her on his ticket. The speech above is like a Seinfeld episode, a show about nothing, that appalls just the same. 

God Bless America!

On Par by Bill Pennington – I don’t think he read the header…

I am an avid NY Times reader, and look forward to the dispatches from Bill Pennington. I emailed him this blog several weeks ago, but I don’t think he gets it.

from B. Penninton

Thanks for your email from last month. Sorry for the delay in answering. I agree, golf is certainly a metaphor for life. Except that some people keep score, I guess. Anyway, thanks again for your message and I hope you keep reading my On Par golf features and watching the videos at nytimes.com when they resume next spring.


Bill Pennington