I’ve never really thought much about coal and I actively despise golf. While I know lots of people who think golf is great and I imagine there are a few lunatic billionaires who feel the same about coal, I’m going to attempt to connect these two topics that have recently been on my mind.
At Easter dinner this year, by big brother and I had a rousing conversation about the coal industry and its big comeback now that 45 is hell-bent on “making America great again” by forcing our nation to take a giant leap backward to our polluted, racist, misogynist, ignorant coal-loving days. We quipped about how happy all the coal miners look in the old b/w photos as they were exiting the mines. We joked about how working in coal mines must have been super fun because everybody had their own pet canaries. We mused about advertising campaigns like “we’re filthy rich…off coal!”
But then I got to thinking about a bunch of weird ads that kept popping up in my social media feeds….ads about COAL products being peddled in the anti-aging and beauty product department. Images of pretty girls brushing their teeth with coal to make them whiter and pictures of women my age rubbing black lotions made with coal into their faces to avoid wrinkles. It occurred to me…they’re trying to bring coal back via the women. They’re going to make coal relevant again by preying on women’s insecurities and vanity. These coal people…they are goooooood. They are savvy. And they must be stopped.
Then there’s golf. Sure, sure…plenty of “normal” people like golf. My nephew loves golf. My sister-in-law’s boyfriend can’t get enough tee times to satisfy his affection for the game. And Richard Gilmore seemed to feel very strongly about its value, as well. But I worked as a server at a golf club in Southern Florida for a Summer and I’ve seen the ugly side of golf culture. Soup that is never the right temperature. Custom golf trousers made from teddy bear chintz fabric. Women in visors…horrible, disastrous visors. Those people were just plain spoiled rotten and they were also very mean. Yes, I know that golf is a bigger sport/lifestyle/cult than just the club where I was unfortunate enough to agree to sling incorrectly heated bowls of soup and unsatisfying cups of decaf to aging baby boomers in exchange for an insultingly meager wage, but don’t you see? Golf has become the entire conversation around our presidents’ use of our precious tax dollars. We measure a leader’s productivity against hours spent golfing for Christ’s sake. Golf has become the new smoke break.
“He spent the work week signing executive orders to have all the baby pandas slaughtered and then he went GOLFING more than the last seventeen presidents combined!”
Really, folks? It’s the golfing that pisses you off? As much as I hate golf (and that’s pretty much 100% of me,) I don’t care how much time a president spends languishing between golf cart jaunts as long as he (or, God forbid, SHE) takes care of the country when sitting in the big, funny-shaped office. Currently, golf is not on my list of things that terrify me about 45. Not. Even. Close.