When I moved out of the house into the dormitory freshman year of college, my folks decided it was time to start a new chapter of their lives. They bought a beautiful home on one of our town’s golf courses and then conveniently forgot to give me a key.
True story. Only a little bitter now.
Sometime during my first or second year, they gave up a copy of their house key – but it probably was when they needed me to feed the cats while they were off playing golf at some fancy course.
I’m not saying they didn’t love me. They just were ready for some privacy. And after becoming a parent, NOW I get it!
When my parents looked at new homes, neither of them knew how to play golf. My father claimed that people do this all the time, but as a college student I thought that was just my parents being quirky.
Mom liked the neighborhood.
Dad liked the view from the back porch. And after sitting out with my father many a night, I came to agree with my father that having a house backed up to a golf course makes your yard seem as if it’s perfectly manicured and goes on forever.
Plus, we had an instant pond equipped with singing toads and the entertainment when ticked off golfers would throw tantrums and heave their clubs into it. Truly enjoyable, especially when they noticed you were watching and then you gave them the neighborly wave.
It didn’t take long for both of my parents to take up the sport. I believe my father did so first, and then my mother thought she might as well join a ladies group so she had something to talk to my Dad about other than laundry and “what’s for dinner?”
Ironically, over the years my Dad’s love of the sport began to sour and then to disdain. He still loved the view, but really didn’t enjoy playing the sport. He would rather spend five hours of his day doing something he enjoyed and that he wouldn’t mentally beat himself up over. Smart man.
My mom, who didn’t want to play golf in the first place, but thought maybe she could get some beautiful vacations out of it, improved her golfing skills every year. Plus, she found a great group of gals to play with.
But my dad was firm in his stance to retire from golf, which left my mom only dreaming of their golf vacations to beautiful resorts around the country.
No Lake of the Ozarks Tan-tar-a Resort and Golf Club. No Verandah in Ft Myers area and no time spent in Desert Princess Palm Springs Golf Resort. Plus, any future plans of touring
SW Florida golfing spots was out of the question.
Luckily, with all the extra time my father had not playing golf, has given him time to discover what he truly loves and excels at. He has become a top-rate cook and hosts dinner parties almost more often than my kids take showers in the summer.
Also, he just finished writing a fascinating non-fiction book on his grandfather who had only a grammar school education but became a silent force behind the Natural History Museum at the University of Kansas in the first half of the 20th century.
So to all of you golfers out there, I get it. The beauty of the outdoors, the camaraderie… the beer!! But I think I’m more like my dad – I’d rather buy a house on a golf course and have my office window facing the view so I could create my literary masterpiece.
Not that THAT’S going to happen, but the grass is always greener on the golf course – and the view sure would be nice!