I'm working at wrapping my mind and fingers around this new concept(new to me?) of daily blogging, or semi annual blogging, or at the very least, dusting off the laptop once every blue moon or so. Some wise man or woman once said that writing well is about....well, writing. Actually, I just made that up and I kinda like it! I may have to channel my efforts and future endeavors into the creation of my very own "how to" book on writing. Or, not. Until I wake up with some sort of jolt of inspiration, or until I find the genie's bottle and after rubbing it am granted three wishes, I'll probably be sort of an "airborne" writer with regards to this tiny little forum. Oh, I also read that when writing, you arent supposed to use 'tiny' and 'little' to describe something? What is airborne writing? It's writing where the writer, in this instance me, jumps all over the place. The real airborne guys have parachutes when they do it. I can assure you there will be no parachutes.
I couldn't help but notice the breaking news this week that Augusta National has finally admitted not one, but two women to its hallowed and stuffy grounds. And, stop the presses....but, one of the women is not just a woman, but a black woman. In this day and age of instant information and the overall need to saturate our senses with every single bit of information and to re-hash it until it is chewed up and spit out and then inevitably that is still not enough, and someone comes along to do it all over again...the story became one of those hot button specials that just demanded to be weighed in on. We live in a society that is just thirsty, if not starved for salicious stories outside of the normal box. Night after night of baseball scores and highlights and accounts of this pitching perfomance and that clutch two out RBI....it's just not enough for any of us anymore. We need the sex. We need the drugs, and yes...we need the rock and roll. And lo and behold, there are more than enough pushers out there clamoring to be the one to give us that fix.
So, after hearing about this supposed delicious morsel of a story on all, and I mean all, of the usual suspects in television and radio, it was all I could do to stifle a yawn. The legs of this story can be attributed solely to the man made and man fed machine of our modern media. Hootie and Cletus and the rest of the blue blooded rednecks running Augusta finally relented and let a couple of women in. Folks....this is not....NOT Rosa Parks revisited. Hardly. This is not Jackie Robinson breaking the color barriers of white and deeply raicst at the time baseball. The admittance of women into the lush confines of the nations most exclusive golf club has nothing to do with "doing the right thing", or with women's rights, or even with race. And, that last one is a tough one for me admit, because in my heart of hearts, I still believe that the hierarchy of this club are probably closet racists. Now, that's just me and its nothing more than my gut. But, regardless, don't fool yourselves all of you out there championing the fact that there are now women who have been granted access to being members. Billy Payne was all smiles and was saying all the right things. Hip hip hooray for Condaleeza and Darla what's her name. They will forever be known as the guinea pigs, so to speak of course, who were maticulously selected for all the right reasons. All the right reasons for the good old boys that is. You want to impress me Billy? Go to the muny course in downtown Atlanta, or Savannah and pick the women's top player.....and give her full admittance. Picking an ex politico big wig and a local money bags financier is akin to Charles Manson selecting Lizzy Borden to be the first female in his prison knitting club. Of course, this is a hoity-toity upper crust elite level golf club. Not just anybody can walk in and think about playing, let alone joining. Its a different blog for a different day, but I say to hell with all of these "I've done just a wee bit better than you in life, so I'm going to go behind these walls and play the gentleman's game with other like minded and like resourced types while you play on the hardened turf of the local city links" private country clubs. But, I digress. Allow me to arrive at something resembling a point. The only thing I've admired about these guys has been their stubborness. They pointed their snooty snoots in the air and stuck their thumbs as well as their middle fingers at all in the establishment and in effect, took their ball and went home. So, are we to believe that at some point in the last few months, years, even the last decade that the powers that be in charge of Augusta national had a moment of clarity? Did this group of previously staunch and stubborn captains of industry all of a sudden cave to the public perceptions of the serfs of America? How loud can you scream "Hell no?" It is, was and will always be about the money. Numbers were crunched, egos put in check and one green jacket finally opened the eyes of a few of the other green jackets that there are pools and piles of green to be added to the coffers. I personally dont give two cents that female members are now allowed to happen at Augusta. Women's rights and their cause were not advanced even an iota with this. Every corner of the media would have you believe different, and thats just fine with the members of Augusta.
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