With The Masters upon us, I think it is time to take a look back at my thoughts on that particular golf tournament and those who put it on.
Dear Augusta National Golf Club,
The annual
golf tournament that spotlights all that you are is in full swing this
week with the actual golf part starting today, and as such a lot of your
little quirks are being exposed to the world, or at least exposed as
much as you allow them to be. A lot is made of the fact that you are
all the things that the golf courses that the rest of the world plays on
(read, public courses) are not. You are meticulously groomed. You
have 1.4 million rules, approximately half of which are unwritten. You
are covered with Jim Nantz's special sauce. And mostly you are super
exclusive. I can't tell you how many times this week I have had to hear
about how to wear one of your awful and pretentious green jackets you
have to be rich as hell, how you don't admit people who come asking, how
you only have thirty members, etc, etc. How the amount of tickets to
watch your events are even incredibly scarce. There was even an article
on Yahoo! about how your food is affordable precisely because you don't
need the money. The point of all of this is to make it clear to me,
and to 99.99999999999999999999999999999% of America, not to mention the
rest of the world, that you simply don't care about us. And that is
just fine. But here is the deal Augusta National Golf Club, I am just
writing this open letter to you in order to let you know in front of
everybody that I don't care about you.
In fact, it goes a
little deeper than that. I don't give a shit about you. Not one bit. I
don't even hate you. I have nothing against you. But I have no
special feelings towards you. I am totally ambivilent about your
policies, practices, positions, members, etc. I just simply do not
care. Aside from this week when CBS takes you and force feeds you to
me, I do not devote a single moment of time to thinking about you ever.
The only exception would be if I were in Augusta and driving by I might
mention to whomever is in the car that we were passing Augusta
National, but other than that you don't even register a blip on my
radar.
I know that this doesn't matter to you. Except that I
also know that is a lie. Just like it is a lie when I tell you that I
don't care. I obviously care because I am taking the time to write this
letter and leave it open for everyone to read. And you obviously care
because you allow everyone to know just how exclusive you are. That is
why you - as rumor has it but if it were true it wouldn't surprise me
one bit - you held up Bill Gates' membership for a couple of extra
years. Because he said that he wanted to be in. And you don't respond
to people who want to be in. You make them wait and come to them. You
play very hard to get, because you desperately want to be wanted.
Scratch that, you desperately want to be needed. Just like me. Just
like Mike-a-licious. And just like Jean Pearson of Cascade Locks, OR.
We all need to be needed. And so do you. So very badly.
The
sad thing though is that it won't matter. So many people fall victim to
your little game. So many people desperately want to be in. So many
want your hideous green jacket. It just feeds your ego and strokes
your..well, we will leave that to the imagination. But I am not going
to fall into the trap. I am not going to play your game. I DO NOT WANT
TO BE A MEMBER OF AUGUSTA NATIONAL GOLF CLUB. I just don't. So
there. Go focus on everyone else. I am not interested. You have been
given notice. And truth be told, if you were to send me an invitation I
would not accept it. So don't bother. Enjoy your taste of your own
medicine. I will just sit back and wait for my invitation to come in
the mail.
Bite My Swimsuit Area,
Big Dave
No comments:
Post a Comment