“L’enfer, c’est les autres.” Jean Paul Sartre, original French title of No Exit
Yesterday I felt completely daunted, flattened, by no longer being able to walk the dogs on the golf course. A little melodramatic, I know, but some days are better than others and having Bear attacked by a dog while walking in the hood didn’t help my attitude toward life. As we passed the access road to the golf course, Bear attempted to turn. I said, “We can’t go there. Sorry Bear.”
The golf course sat there on a sunny Sunday completely empty and calling to us. “I’m lonely. Why haven’t you visited me in so long?” Seriously. Its little golf-course spirit was sad.
Ultimately, we had a decent walk around the high school, looking at the golf course continually. BUT there were no big (dog attack) events, and we came home.
I wrote about the shared despair of Bear, me and the golf-course on Facebook (more on that in a minute). One of my brother’s old friends, with whom I’m friends, wrote that I needed to protest this to the city council because “retired people” like me with “augmented abilities” need a place like that. She followed with a long lecture about what I should “do” about it.
I wrote back that I don’t have “augmented abilities” but that I have no restrictions on what I can do. I can even downhill ski and run if I want to.
This woman is polemic by nature. She wrote back in defense of her language saying that my hip replacement augmented my abilities. I thought, “You twat. Words have meanings. My abilities were restored by the hip replacement, not ‘augmented’. Not at all. You try to do the things I do. I don’t think you can.”
I wondered why I got so upset. OK, I was already in a bad mood, but, seriously?
This is a woman who could not see or hold her own new born grandson or be with her daughter when the little boy was born because she refused to get a flu shot. I shrugged. Fuck it. It was my fault for posting on Facebook. Facebook. Facebook, you evil bitch.
I thought about it — we all want to be understood. We want to be seen for the person we are. I don’t think social media helps with that. I already have a minimal (comparatively) presence on Facebook. I’m about to dial that back even further.
I then contacted a woman who also walks her dogs on the golf course and who happens to be on City Council. She let me know the whole story. There’s a movement afoot to make it a multi-use area without kicking off the golfers. She explained that golf courses all over the country are having problems making ends meet and the idea is to keep the golf course from going bankrupt by putting city money into it. She explained that the golf course belongs to the city and no one can tell me not to walk there.
I was relieved. I don’t want the golfers kicked off. I don’t want anything to happen to them at all. I think the golf course is good, but it’s also stupid that there’s this big empty place that no one uses for 7 months of the year, and all I want is to walk Bear on the cart roads out to the ditch easement and out of town. I volunteered to help out. I will not be needed, but a small message of support and goodwill probably doesn’t hurt anything. IF the multi-use thing happens, I will donate a dog poop bag station. I priced them yesterday.
Meanwhile, the golf course groundskeeper did tell us that we can walk there until March 20. We’re going today. It snowed last night, not much, but enough to make a beautiful morning.