On my recent return from Australia, my kids had finally convinced me to watch season four of “Stranger Things.” I had checked out of it sometime during season two, but being a good little binger, I still ploughed through seasons two and three. Plus what else am I going to do for sixteen hours strapped into a chair, wearing a mask while having a sudden realisation that this is how Hannibal Lecter probably felt when being transported between jails?
After watching episode 8, that familiar little itch starts and I can’t do it. My brain calls “timeout-no more Vecna, Hawkins, or purple palm tree delight” (although that could have come in handy on the flight). I couldn’t possibly think, talk, make sense of or inhabit this subject anymore-I needed a circuit breaker.
I turned to the trusty “allergy” tablet-Aussies know what I’m talking about-and switched off for a solid six hours of sleep.
I awoke refreshed with only 2:30 left until our arrival into DFW and decide to finish off “Stranger Things.” I cue it up: Episode 9 – time remaining 2:20-WTF. I lift my head out of my hands and grind out the final episode.
Quick side bar-the writers of “Stranger Things” must be “Lost” fans and Rust Cohle (“True Detective” Season 1) fans.
Case in point: random menacing black smoke appears, it’s really important but you’ll never find out what it is. The island ends up being some sort of purgatory, it’s all a dream. Sounds just like Hawkins to me…
Rust Cohle quote:
“F***, I don’t want to know anything anymore. This is a world where nothing is solved. Someone once told me, ‘Time is a flat circle.’ Everything we’ve ever done or will do, we’re gonna do over and over and over again. And that little boy and that little girl, they’re gonna be in that room again and again and again forever.”
Clearly Rust is the head writer…
The feeling of investing so much time, energy, and effort into a subject only to hit a thick fog where every decision or thought feels uninspired, banal or clichéd was familiar.
I have spent thousands of hours walking, talking, planning and executing on this project; there are moments when the wall is hit and I am looking for the circuit breaker to bring back the excitement and energy.
Many of these hours walking and talking have been with the Clayton DeVries Pont crew. I have dialed in the formula for these walks to fill in the time between tee locations or green sites. I usually start off with a controversial statement, something that I might not necessarily agree with but am happy to argue in favor. I might open with:
“C B McDonald – Overrated ? Underrated ? or Properly Rated ? I say completely overrated. He started off looking for great land and taking inspiration from the British Isles. He ended up wanting dead flat land so he could cut, paste and fill in templates holes. He’s the Ray Kroc of golf course architecture..”
Ray Kroc bought and ran McDonalds. McDonalds began as a popular little hamburger joint with a few locations. Ray was instrumental in bringing “uniformity in service and quality among all of the McDonald’s locations.” and “The food was to be of a strictly fixed, standardized content and restaurants were not allowed to deviate from specifications in any way.” Any of this sound/ feel familiar ? I’m looking at you Lido. Boom! You’ve got hours of healthy repartee to fill the day.
(Give Ray his due, as the McDonald’s Corporation did turn into the most successful fast food corporation in the World. Similarly, C B McDonald is considered the “father of American golf course architecture.”)
However, one particular part of the course creating a small matter was the short 17th. It’s a very cool par 3 near the beach and hitting straight at the mountain. During the time that passed between staking and Mike D doing his bulldozer magic, the green-site started to look too close to the beach, landing possibly over our 50 metre boundary to high water mark.
After busting out the rangefinder, a measuring tape and a rather long piece of pipe, it confimed the green seemed to be crossing our boundary, not just by a little, but enough to make me say we have to completely rebuild the hole.
High water mark is an ambiguous term used for property boundaries that face the water, It is essentially the average of high tides over the timeframe when the tides are measured. And yes, cases have ended up in the High Court over it. At the very beginning of the project, we had our boundary surveyed using the local planning authorities’s high water mark and placed stakes at 50 metres. Perfect right? Except when contractors knock them over or somebody moves them…you get the gist.
Mike D was passionately arguing his case, saying the stake was left of the green. So I decided that we needed certainty and to call back the surveyor to re-stake the boundary of the 17th hole.
As usual we were both right. The left edge of the hole was over the boundary by about 2 metres and with some minor tweaks the hole safely sits inside our boundary and retains all its majors features. See, problem solved. Needless to say, this was a large part of the recent trip’s discussions and evolved throughout. We spent quite a bit of time walking the hole over and over, assessing all the angles and surveying the different shots and possible ways to play the hole.
I was campaigning for a shot that was demanding for a good player, looked intimidating, yet was an easy 4 for the average player but a tough 3 for an accomplished player. Good players have to “finish off” their round.
Naturally, discussions were ongoing. Mike D was standing in the hollow to the right of the green talking about chipping versus putting and I was starting to hit that proverbial wall- I can’t think or discuss this hole or strategy anymore.
Mike looked up at me and said:
“I try not to think about whether the hole is a par 3 or that its tough for good players but manageable for average players. My main goal is: are they engaged ? if they are engaged with every shot, no matter the skill level, I have done my job..”
Click, circuit breaker.
Perfect, lets keep people engaged…
