Saturday, March 08, 2014

In the water

It's always fun to watch the best golfers in the world become unraveled.  Witness yesterday's showing at Doral, where the wind was blowing and the shots were going astray at an alarming rate.  Tiger in the water twice, I think.  Maybe Sergio too.  Me?  I'll be reading about it in the paper but I will not watch a single moment of the Doral.

Why, you're wondering?  Because I plan to spend the rest of my life, as much as possible, not contributing to the financial welfare of Donald Trump, the course's owner.

Why, you're wondering?  Because I found Mr. Trump's behavior in the last presidential election nauseating.  A man who previously was a slightly-amusing, self-promoting millionaire who could be tolerated as part of the rich fabric of New York City morphed, to my mind, by dint of his presidential campaign based, more or less solely, on questioning the validity of Barack Obama's citizenship, into a force of evil.

Not that he shouldn't run for president if he wants.  Even the most self-evident buffoon has the constitutional right to do so (given a couple of conditions).  And not because he was running against Obama.  Because my father used to tell me to always remember that Republicans are God's creatures too.

No -- it was none of that.  It was the birther business.  Truth be told, I found the whole birther movement to be politics in its most wretched state.  And I'm not referring to Mississippi.  There's enough latent racial tension in this country without assholes like Donald Trump throwing gasoline on the fire.  And now he wants to run for governor.  Which is both laughable and horrible in equal parts.

Anyway, I won't be watching the Doral.

For someone of such high moral standing, how will you then justify watching The Masters in a couple of weeks?

Excellent question.  The Masters, one might argue, is run by a bunch of racist, misogynist, mouth-breathing, knuckle-dragging rednecks in five-thousand dollar suits.  So, under ordinary circumstances, I'd avoid that event too.  But I, like the Augusta membership, am part of a select club:  that club being comprised of the people who have sneaked into Augusta during The Masters, been caught by security, and been thrown out.  Which is a far more exclusive group than those who have attended the event in the conventional, unimpeded manner.

So I have to watch.

Plus there's this ...

 And this ...
Which, if I do say so myself, is really something.

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