I find it disturbing how men I normally regard as intelligent, discerning, and bequeathed with a sharp and invigorating social and environmental consciousness, are eventually drawn to golf or go through a golf phase -- that elitist, expensive, space-wasting, water-guzzling past-time in which men chase a ball with a stick while their lackeys carry the golf clubs for them or search for the balls when they go off course. I have a short list: Number One Biker Boy, Frank, Neal Oshima, and Kabigat a.k.a Kidlat Tahimik whom witnesses saw teeing off at the Baguio Country Club recently. When asked to comment he explained that he joined his sister after twenty years of shunning the golf course for old times' sake, as she was leaving for the US that evening. (My relatives don't count. They are beyond saving. The elders have been playing golf since before I was born, while those of my generation were born with golf clubs in their hands.) I don't get it. Talk about cognitive dissonance. I still love and respect No. 1 Biker Boy who hasn't gone farther than talking about learning golf, Frank (who blew his putter budget on books instead), Neal who stopped playing golf a long time ago, and Kabigat who played just this once, but will somebody please tell me: Why golf? Why?
The Wright Park Pony Boys, my Big Little Sister, the Artist-in-Residence and I have a dream. We tear through the Country Club golf course on our wild and galloping steeds, dropping seeds rolled into clay balls in our wake. Long after we have thundered through the fields and been chastised by the Country Club management (arrested maybe? how exciting!) a thousand edible plants will sprout and wildly break through the mono-cultured, manicured greens, and food will grow uncontrollably, and the fortress will be breached by the hungry! Nyahahahahhahaaaaaa!
The Wright Park Pony Boys, my Big Little Sister, the Artist-in-Residence and I have a dream. We tear through the Country Club golf course on our wild and galloping steeds, dropping seeds rolled into clay balls in our wake. Long after we have thundered through the fields and been chastised by the Country Club management (arrested maybe? how exciting!) a thousand edible plants will sprout and wildly break through the mono-cultured, manicured greens, and food will grow uncontrollably, and the fortress will be breached by the hungry! Nyahahahahhahaaaaaa!
Comments
Ask the Bishop, too, li'l girl.
Look for him right after siesta, ha-ha-ha!
but when i tried playing it a few times, it did make me feel good. and even though i dont play it at all, i can clearly see why some people love it...there are far worse things other people do with their time, money and the world's resources. - jon sy