Today’s guest posting comes from Josh of Absurdly Awesome.com.
Ever since I was a young boy, I’ve enjoyed the hobby of golf. It was a fun and relaxing sport that got me out of the house and into my child-like idea of the “wilderness”. As I got older, I started to recognize the seedy underbelly of my favorite pasttime. Sure, it’s still an enjoyable experience, but like everywhere else, people have a way of partially ruining for me what should be a great experience.
There is a list of usual characters that you will cross paths with at every single golf course in the world, and I’d like to go over a few of them right now:
The Mower: Golf courses are so huge that they have a tendency to have lawn mowers running constantly. It’s not really a problem… until they drift off into their little grassy dream world and pay no attention to you. I’ve waited as much as 10 minutes, just staring at the lawn care (un)professional as he slowly mows down the center of the fairway. Now, with the way my golf game is lately, there is little chance I’d hit anywhere close to him, but his case isn’t helped by the fact that when he finally does see me, he just moves slightly over to the side and stares at me while I take my shot. Being a self-conscious mess — and having slight golfers stage fright – makes this one of my least favorite situations to be in.
"Just between you and me, the more you mess up the course, the more I get to mess with the golfer's heads."
The Impatient Driver: One of the only characters that can cause bodily harm or death by golf ball. Sometimes, the golf course can be moving super slow, leaving you in an endless cycle of hitting, then waiting 15 minutes for the people in front of you to play through the next hole. The impatient driver, however, tries to push through the pile by teeing off right into you. I’ve heard horror stories about people getting hit in the head by these complete idiots. I even been hit once myself. Luckily, the ball hit the ground and bounced once before catching me in the stomach. As I looked back, I noticed this particular impatient player had his kid with him. It’s a circle of rudeness that doesn’t seem likely to be broken anytime soon.
The Slow Olds: They take forever to hit their ball, require 20 minutes to look at the angle of every putt, put their huge cigars out on the tee boxes and would never even think about letting you play through. These “old slows” usually travel in packs of four — each driving their own cart – and can usually be found in their natural habitat, the local country club. There’s probably nothing more frustrating than getting behind a group of these guys on a golf course.
Honorable Mentions:
The Noobs: They yell constantly, throw their clubs, and dance around/tear up the greens when they make a foot-long putt. They also usually bring their own styrofoam cooler with their favorite cheap beer and urinate on every hole that doesn’t have a restroom nearby.
Little-Kid Parents: They bring out their seven-year-old kids who can only hit the ball five feet at a time and act like they’re playing in the Masters. They’re praying that their kid will be the next Tiger Woods, what with having given up their own quest for fame and fortune and placed their future hopes and dreams on their little ones.
"If you ain't bringing in 100k a year by the time you're 15, I will sell you into white slavery."
As much as I can’t stand this cast of characters whose discourteous actions tend to suck away at the enjoyment of others, I can’t help but want to golf every summer day that I have available. Sure, you hear golfers talk about being brought back by the one perfect shot they made the last time they were out, but it goes deeper than that for me. I keep going back for the very cute and sweet beverage-cart girl, who probably isn’t all that cute, but clouds my judgment with her rare golf-course etiquette and general politeness. She’s a beacon of light in the brutal, unforgiving sea of rudeness that is golf.
Today’s guest post comes from a reader named MaryAnn, who recently returned from a rather eye-opening trip to one of the most popular desination spots in the country, Walt Disney World.
My husband and I just returned from Walt Disney World. The behavior I read about in this post on your site compelled me to write, as it was unbelievable the things we witnessed.
I surprised my husband with the trip for his retirement after he served for nearly 30 years as a fire captain. We have worked in the public sector so nothing should surprise us, but having been to Walt Disney World when my children were small — and not having witnessed the rude behaviors 20 years ago — I was shocked. Had I read about it, I would have surprised him with a trip elsewhere.
We were at Walt Disney World for 10 days, and after talking to people our age and castmembers alike, we heard the same comments time and time again. Children on the whole have not been taught to behave the majority of the time. Not all children were this way, but most of the families we witnessed did not have a problem allowing Jr. and Susie watching — and learning that it was okay from — their parents muscle their way into line, or talk down to and be disrespectful of anyone who questions your bad behavior.
Children got to the water first. Children who didn't want to waste time with a bathroom stop..."
These children learned that if you question being beaned in the face with a flash in a ride, it is okay for Daddy to tell anyone with the gall to suggest he follow the same rules as everyone else to shut up and mind their own business.
They learned that when a disabled person has a pass for a ride, Daddy will go up to the disabled person and demand to know what kind of pass ALLOWED them to pass him (never mind that the disgruntled Dad had only moments earlier been seen pushing his stroller through the crowd like a bantering ram, not caring who he was hitting).
Seeing the unruly children approach, the characters gathered in the hope their might be safety in numbers.
They learn ed that it is okay to continually kick the person sitting in front of them. In fact, they learned that doing so will result in their being soothed and asked, “Do you want a stuffed toy or drink?” instead of being told “Sit up straight and stop kicking the person in front of you!”
They learned it is okay to pee on the stall floor instead of the toilet and to spit gum on the sidewalk.
We witnessed all this and more many times, and it was jaw dropping. It goes beyond social skills or a lack thereof. It goes right to the core of their very being and what they feel they are owed and are entitled to in life. It needs to change, and it needs to change quickly. I don’t have all the answers, but I know right from wrong. And, what we witnessed takes wrong and disgusting to a level I don’t care to be around again.
My sister is a great mother except for the fact that she swears in front of my nephew all the time. Not just the occasional “hell” or “damn” but a constant litany of every profanity under the sun. She used to say that he’s too young to understand, and now that he’s getting older she tries telling me that he knows there are words mommy can use that he can’t. Yeah, because we all know kids don’t go to school and try to impress their friends by talking or acting like adults.
Every weekday morning, the schoolbus pulls up in front of your house and begins honking. I work nights – and you know this, since I’ve asked before if you could have your children ready and waiting for the bus. All the other children on the block are in front of their homes waiting. What makes yours so special?
If your child is still in what I call the Baby Goat Phase and he’s still chewing on any and everything then he has no business at the train table in Barnes and Noble. Buy your own Thomas trains and let him chew the lead paint off of those. I don’t want my child who is no longer a baby goat to have to touch and play with toys that are now contaminated with your son’s spittle.
Bundles of joy or emisary’s of evil?
"I am cute and adorable and if you say otherwise, I shall rally my minions to destroy you!"
I suppose it depends on your viewpoint. But since this is my page, I’m going with the latter. Feel free to comment to the contrary, but first, here me out. Because there’s a good reason why I despise your terrible tykes… several, actually.
1) They can’t be controlled. As spring approaches, I’m preparing to spend another torturous season of asking – and eventually warning – your children not to play in my driveway, bounce their ball against my house or pick vegetables out of my garden. Okay, sure, I don’t have a garden, but you get my point. I come off seeming like the block’s crazy curmudgeon simply for asking that my property not be treated like a playground for your kids. Why? Because I have no doubt that the second one of them trips and falls, y’all are gonna try and sue my butt.
2) They’re loud. I defy any willingly childless person – or even those who had kids who are now blissfully grown and out of the house – to tell me that they don’t flinch when parents with a caterwalling creature sit at the table next to you in a restaurant, or behind you on a plane. Yes, I know, they are children and that is what children do. That doesn’t mean I have to like it. And unless you’re the only parent on the planet who has never had to suppress the urge to scream “shut the hell up” at your own child, I don’t wanna hear any flak from you.
3) They’re rude. Tonight while shopping in a bookstore, I watched two pre-teens call a only-slightly-older boy “fag” as he tried to flip through a copy of The Advocate. Good job, boys. You just drove that guy so far into the closet that he’ll no doubt remain there until five or six years into his marriage, at which point he’ll finally get past the trauma and destroy the “happy” home he’s created. Worse, the mother of the big-mouthed kids laughed at their antics. I hope she understands the irony when her son and his pal being “experimenting” with one another.
“Yes, honey. Santa died for your sins.”
4) They bore me. Sorry, but I just don’t want to hear about Epiphany’s potty training or Mandarin’s soccer game. Pictures won’t help.
5) They make you boring. See #4, but remember when we used to talk about how hung over we are while trying to piece together what we did the night before.
6) They took you from me. I have friends who I only see when they are accompanied by their children. I have to go to them. Their children join us on every trip (which, to me, assures the vacation will be anything but relaxing). They forced you to give up that cool sportscar for a minivan.
So now maybe you can understand why I’m not so fond of your kids. Maybe if someone had taken them aside and taught them to be polite to not only their elders, but everyone… or that screaming isn’t the best way to communicate their needs… or that boundaries are to be respected… or that… Oh, wait… holy crap… I don’t hate your kids…
Ritalin. When PB&J just won’t cut it any more.
… I hate you.
Never mind.
Today’s post comes to us from special guest Totally Tyler, who believes that there are good children and good parents in the world… just not nearly enough of them. To submit a guest column, please see the Contact Us page. You can follow todays writer on twitter at totally_tyler.
I am the single mom of 2 kids, I work full time and none the less, when my kids want to do an after school program or sport, I figure out if and how I can make it happen before the sign up. I find out cost, practice schedule and try to arrange with another parent a way for me to pick up part time and them to. Then I tell my children yes, we can make this work, go for it. Well I have spent this whole season with a child who isn’t mine becuase her parents let her sign up but they don’t have a car so can’t get her home, they can’t get her to games or home from them, they forget to pack her a lunch (I now just pack extra). I just don’t get it, why let your child do something you can’t and don’t support? UGHHHHHHH
