Sustainable Golf

Somewhere in the late 90's we all figured that the world was going to end at the new milenna, or so, give or take a few years. It all depended on your sources, Mayan, Incan or whatever ancient calender you chose to follow. Feeling like I was on the edge of something new I started to view what I did and how it would fit into this new world. I new that my skills were valuable and that they would have applications that would ensure my survival. Odd as it seems I am a golf course superintendent. How I got there or at least how I see myself getting will just have to wait.



A golf course superintendent is at the most basic level a greekskeeper, but things are never on that level. Unfortunately for me it is difficult to put into words but that is the charge I have given myself when I started this story.



I keep seeing myself sitting in a small grove of trees at the country club in Kentucky where I worked while I went to school. The patch of trees was between holes fifteen and sixteen. The shop was close by behind the sixteenth green. This small patch of trees was located on the right side of the fifteenth tee near an on course bathhouse named Shacks Shack. Apparently an old club president named Shacks had it built many years ago. An all cedar enclosure that included a water fountain and a toilet. Two sides of the building were open to the outdoors one open side faced the tee box and the other side faced the grove of trees where I am sitting. It then opens up to a small L shaped pond that guards the dogleg left side of the sixteenth hole. The shade of the trees and the coolness of the pond make this a sweet spot to stop and reflect on my thoughts. The location is not to obvious to the average golfer but it sits out in the open, but just because of the flow of traffic is going different ways it is often an overlooked cubby, but I claim it as mine.



Here one day I sat enjoying my moment when the superintendent drives by twisting his head to see what I am up to in mt little grove. Jim, my first real mentor, is a bristly shortish fellow with thick hair and a thick mustache to match. He has been around for some time and has a quirky way of doing things. He shakes his head staring at me through his blue blocker sunglasses his thick hair motionless as he zoos down the cart path on sixteen across the pond from me on his way to the shop.



That is when I think of it, the habitat I'll call it. A sustainable golf course that mixes all of the things that are dear to me. The golf course not only houses the regular course but also boasts a farm and an animial sancturary. These things all work in senergy. The golf course uses vehichels that use grain alcohol for fuel that comes from corn grown on the farm. It also fuels the farm vehichiles and everything else. The crops help feed the farm animials and in turn feed the animals that make up the sancutary. The sancutary is a home for injured animals that also works as a zoo and educational center. These three entities co-exist together, the grass from the course can be used as feed and compost that grows the crops. This is what I see as my future, and more importantly I see is as using all of my education and making golf more than what it is now. It is a world I can make on my own and if the world is going to end and we are stranded in a wasteland I can make it on my own.

Dream Break

Thought might enjoy this one, quite a funny dream.

I was sitting in the english parliament during a secession that included the queen of England, but it was a new queen or a younger version of the current. After the secession was over and parliament dismissed the queen, a duke ,and myself all retired to another room resembling a small apartment and proceeded to play monopoly. Realizing that the game was going nowhere I found that we were playing all wrong. The Duke got really upset and I thought he didn't like me very much anyway but the queen didn't care. The Duke leaves and I offer to make the queen some lunch, she agrees and I go off to the kitchen, where I meet some other cooks, my kitchen was connected to a larger network of kitchens.

There is a little fuzzy part here but I get attacked by the Duke and I fend him off with a large ladle. Then the other cook and I are on the run and we are being chased throughout the town by the Duke and his angry entourage. We eventually make our way to the sea, for some reason I think we were in Edinburgh. The cook and I are thinking we can lose them on the beach if we can make it there. The only obstacle is a large swamp, or intercostal water way that we have to trudge through. We decide to go for it and climb down from a small cliff and start trying to make our way through a bog.

This part is pretty gross for me as the bog is full of stagnant water, moss algae and general muddy muck. Normally this would really bother me but I just plow trough it. The Duke and his team stop at the cliff and look down trying to find up but we just keep slinking along. At this time we can overhear the duke and his gang and his second in charge says that there is no way we would go in there but the Duke knows that means that we did. They start planning to circle around. Back down in the bog we come to a group of rocks and have to climb over them. When we emerge from the rocks we notice small snakes are biting at out legs. The cook can't take it anymore. We are very close to the beach. The Duke sees the cook and knows where we are and starts racing towards us. The cook is just screaming for a beer. I try to get him to shut up but he won't. I then tell him that I see some beer on the beach and he heads that way.

When we emerge from the Bog he scampers around looking for his beer and I start running down the beach. I can see the Duke coming from the other direction. I come to a house. Murray my dog is there and it resembles the farm house in Bowling Green KY. Not the whole house just the front sitting room and that one corner bedroom. I am hidden in a closet there when the Duke and his gang come looking for me. Murray gives me away by coming out of the closet to greet on of the bad guys. The thug then goes back to tell everyone where I am. I creep behind him. The Duke is sitting on the couch and gets up to come get me. I notice he has a small .38 pearl handled revolver in his hand. I start to charge him. He sees me and starts to raise his revolver. I jump into the air and plant both of my feet into his chest knocking him to the ground. We start to struggle and I get the gun and give him 3-4 smacks with it. I then put the gun under his chin and ask him if this is what he wants. He shakes his head no. Then I ask him if he really wanted to take another persons life, He looks away and I follow his gaze to young boy and I realize that this is his son. I ask do you want to through your whole life away on this. He shakes his head no again. Small amounts of blood from the gun whipped cuts trickle town his face mixed with sweat. He is beaten I drop the revolver and walk away. I think I am going back to the queen, but I wake up.

Introduction

Here is where it will begin for me. Following the advice of my wife, Shannon I started this blog to tell the story of " The Superintendent Volume 1, The Symbol." Volume 1 will consist of the actual story and volume 2 will be a technical manual to accomplish all of the things in volume 1. If they are possible. This is a work of fiction but a good part of it actually happened to me. Chapter 1 has additions. I will go back and rewrite or add onto chapter sections, so keep your eyes peeled.

Chapter 1 Keys

My last days of work are near but I know I will not make it to my new job. I finally made it big after years of failed interviews. All of my experience at work has finally paid off landing a job as a golf course superintendent overseeing two courses. This is a dream job for me and I think about all of the things I will be able to do as I make plans for my new courses. Then there is the voice and the man. The voice is telling me that my time is near, not my death but my transition. The man he, is waiting for me on the other side he will help me, I hope.

I start my alternate plans and they begin with keys. I must gather all the keys I can because I know that they will work when I go. I have seen myself using them ensuring my survival. The only problem with the keys is that I no longer have them. When I announced my resignation and started cleaning out my office my boss asked for them. I now have to get them back. I am not sure which ones I will need so I plan on getting as many as I can and storing them in the pump house hidden away.

My coworkers and friends start to notice, that instead of being excited about moving into my dream job I seem saddened. I simply chalk it up to nerves about the challenges of a new job. They are right I am filled with a sadness that has haunted me my entire life.

I have the advantage of knowing what is coming. What happens after that it will be hard to tell. At leas I won't be an unsuspecting hero. Hero that is a joke, how could I be a hero when I am all alone.

Work moves along at the usual pace the days quietly clicking away. The first set of keys I needed were easily acquired. All I had to do was ask for them. Randy the mechanic had multiple copies of all the equipement keys. He just let me go through the box and get what I needed, he didn't even bother to ask why I wanted a key to every tractor in the shop. The tractors might be one of the only things that save me in the long run. Who knows if they will even work. That sense of necessity is still there. I must gather keys. Keys to take and hide away in my pump house. Everything must go into the pump house. The pump house will be safe from everything. That is the most important key of them all.

The pump house is exactly what the name implies, a house for the pumps that run the irrigation system for the golf course. The heart of a golf course the pumps push water at great pressure all over the course. They run off of high voltage electricity and sit over what is called the wet well. The wet well is a hole dug adjacent to the irrigation lake with intake tubes connecting the lake to the wet well. Water flows from the lake into the wet well to replace the water the pumps suck up. This particular pump house sits under the cafe espresso at Grandover Resort. The cafe is a small half way house to provide drinks and food to golfers when they make the turn. Most courses return to the golf shop after nine holes but mine does not. So they built this little cafe to accommodate thirsty golfers. The cafe will not make it, but whatever I can get into the pump house will be there when I need it.

Two days of work are left and I still need more keys. The keys I need are in a closet in my bosse's office. There are hundreds of them and I need time to find the ones I need. I find my opportunity Thursday when everyone is engaged playing basketball outside of the shop. It is risky because everyone is so close to where I am. I have no other choice. Going through the shop I make my was into Kevin's office. It pains me to deceive him because he has always been so kind to me. There are very few people I would consider true friends that I would do anything for but he is one of them. It goes against so much of what I hold to be right and true but the need for keys forces me onward. Listening closely to what is going on outside I can tell everyone is engaged in the game and I open the door with the keys hanging behind it. I start scanning the sheets listing what all of the keys are for and quickly and quietly start removing the ones I need.

Suddenly the outside door opens and I duck into the next office and wait. It is somebody just getting a drink of water. I go back to the door of keys and continue picking out the ones I need. I have them all but one. The key to the lay down yard. The lay down yard is where all of the companies heavy construction equipement is kept plus a lot of building supplies. I keep searching. The door opens again and I can hear Kevin approaching. He did not open the door but he is coming this way. He always gets a bottle of water from the fridge in his office when he is done playing basketball. I slowly shut the closet door careful not to rattle any of the keys. Walking back throuth the other offices I hear Kevin unlock the door to his office and walk in breathing heavy as I leave the office ajoining his and walk into the next shutting the door behind me making sure it does not latch and make a noise. I smile to myself and start trotting throuth the mechanichs office and into the service bay and out into the main shop.

Interlude 1

I felt it take over yesterday. I was at a stoplight in my truck, looking at my hands a weird sensation overtook me. My arms felt like long gloves and somebody else was putting them on. There was a faint tingling caress inside my own skin as the hands worked their way into mine. I start to wonder how far will this go, what am I supposed to do. Should I fight should I give in. All of the stories I have read and all of the crazy people I know flash through my mind. I realize that I am much too strong, or it is much too weak to do anything more. Unfortunately for me now I know that the FuzZ is much more. To speak its name is to take away its power. It shrieks as I call to it and recedes. I think that it is much too weak for anything, maybe.

What set it all off was a single phrase from my wife, "all alone." It was related to the lack of assistance I was giving her. That acted as the catalyst.

How many times have I written those words in fear, or simply cried them out always bringing more and more tears.

I assure you that is not meant to hurt you or be anything bad. "Why are you so upset?", she questions.

I have no wit in this arena at all. Totally worthless in this stage of anger, I have no chance to think of anything, but the FuzZ

Interlude: Return of the Fuzz

Just realizing the doorway, and I may be forced to step away. Will I be able to find it again?

Will I become the ancor which I sought, but the truth might be that I am not allowed a safety line into madness. Why should I be allowed to jump back and forth to keep me feeling safe.

Then my way is clear.

I become the ancor and I live what I saw those few days, that will be enough.

While stuck here I often wondered what puzzle I needed to solve so I can be free. There is something holding me back but I don't know what it is. Not aware that it would come to me I marched off hurridly looking for it and hidden inside my heavy footfalls I was unable to stop and listen and see. Sight that comes from energy. Able to see in, over, around and through all life when everything gleams and is magical for it's sheer existance. Then and only then is it appreciated and understood. That which overflows from one object to another creating a wave of relization and gives shine to life and the world aroundus. It is always there but very hard to hear.

If that is the case then I am now truly deaf.

The end of this world is near if I could only leave it. If I could go through the portal. If I could cut the ancor free. Once again overwelming saddness engulfs me and the pain is a burdon which I do not know how long I can bare. I have fought it for three years with only the love of my children to keep me up. I refuse to let them down as my parents did to me. I want their life filled with the security of love but how can that be? Still the sadness, still the pain. To go to the other world is a safe haven to pour out my energies there is a hope but, is that the way I want to live? I want to dissapear but I cannot. I would give everything up to flee except my children. I can feel the FuzZ enveloping my brain and I don't care anymore.

Knowing that the FuzZ has always been there waiting for me biding it's time. I was just too occupied with life to see it advancing. For some time I was ignorant and that was my bliss. It was always there. Insanity seems like a welcome releif to living a life like this but I would let my children down and that I cannot have. It is not that I am trapped by them but, I need them and it would be too painful to think about them missing me.

Wyh should I talk about anything else. Lets just say that it all sucks, my job, my socal interactions, feeling totally alone wherever I go, but I know I am not that special.

Chapter 2 Cotton Square mall

I started seeing the man who is not there about a month ago. He is always in the same spot staring at me when I make a turn and cross over the rail road tracks. I cannot see and details he is clouded in shadow. I only see him when I am driving on the tracks. Once I cross he is gone. He stands behind the rail road crossing barricade. Hidden by the steel framework he simply stares at me. I try and ignore him but his stare calls to me. I cannot see his face but I know he is staring at me. I wonder is this is another attempt of the FuzZ but this feels different.



I wake up from my dream and he was in it. I haven't seen the man at the tracks for several months. The lot behind the tracks houses an old textile factory that turned into a mall several years later. I never saw any of that all I see when I drive by on my daily commute to work is a huge brick building about three stories tall with a smoke stack out back. The parking lot is cracked and filled with weeds poking through trying to retake the forgotten landscape. In my dream I am a crow sitting on top of the crossing framework. I am directly over the tracks. I survey the land. Behind me is the gas station I pass everyday on my way to work just before I cross the tracks. Everything looks normal, just as it does everyday I pass. Random people filter in and out of the store, pulling in and pulling out in cars on their way. Turning around I look at the abandoned factory called The Cotton Square Mall. This is a dramatically different scene. I can see the man who is not there. He is real, all of this time I merely thought I was hallucinating. He is there and he is staring across the tracks looking for me just like always. The Mall is mostly decayed, the back half of the building is gone like someone just sliced a pie piece away from it. It looks like fire damage. There is no roof, all of the windows are gone. The smokestack that once dominated the skyline has started to erode onto itself and only stands about half of its former height. The weeds that have been taking back the parking lot have won the battle. Only a few patches of asphalt show trough a parking lot that covered several acres.

This view is all wrong. When I last say the Cotton square mall it was almost entirely torn down. Cranes, track hoes, and several other heavy equipment machines are making short work of this once all important factory. The vegetation strikes me the hardest. Everything is dry and brown. At first I think that everything is long dead but I realize that it is merely in a state of drought. Was there some horrific accident to this place to stop the rain? Or did we simply just waste all of the water away. There is no visible sign of life except the man staring across the tracks. He remains clouded in shadow covered in black amidst a landscape that is brown. Most of the trees that dominated this area are gone and I can see much further than ever before when I have driven past this area. I am filled with curiosity about this place coupled with fear of it being our future. It can't be this worlds future. The mall tells me that. This world has already deviated from that because here the mall is being destroyed and there it still stands. Is this where I am heading, a glimpse into my future, I must prepare.

Chapter 2 cont. The vision

I spend my days thinking about the place in my dream. I watch the Cotton Square mall disappear on a daily basis as it is slowly dismantled. I know that somewhere else the mall still exists. A burned out shell in a semi arid landscape but it it there. Every day that passes I feel these two places tear further and further apart from each other. I wonder why it is focused on this one spot. Was everything the same until they started the demolition of this building did that single decision spark the separation of worlds and create the desolate one I saw in my dream. That seems just too odd to wrap my head around and as I continue to look for dots to connect it all together. Dots that just are not there, I am not supposed to know. The more I think about it the more I feel that it is all wrong to think about it and I feel the FuzZ creeping into my mind.

Ever since they started tearing down the building the man at the tracks disappeared. I first saw him driving to work one dark morning. Like I said he was standing being the framework of the rail road crossing guards. Shrouded in a black Haze I really can't see him and figure that he is just a play of shadows. It wouldn't be the first time I saw something that was not there. I drive on to work. Day two: I completely forget about seeing him yesterday and then I see him again. I have the same initial shock and the same disbelief as yesterday. This time I credit it to a very specific play of shadows. I also come up with the idea that it is just somebody waiting for the bus, there is a stop just a few feet away. Nope when I look back to confirm if he is just walking to the bus stop he is gone. This goes on and on for several weeks until I am forced to admit that he is there. He is there all the time. He is always looking for me but just like me he can only see me for an instant each day. I don't know how I know so much about him or so much about all of the things that are bound to happen to me. I think it is the third part of me trying to warn myself on what is to come. What what was that. I don't even know how to interpret that idea. I can't help but to stop and listen. Slowly it comes to me I know who is the man in the shadow. It is me. I am looking for myself not in the soul searching way but I am physically looking for myself. I am over there and I don't want to be there anymore. I am looking for a way back, but how could I look at myself? How can I bring myself back from a place that only exists inside of my dream. I start to panic not like crap did that cop see me run that light but more like I wonder how I'll spend my free time in the mental institution.

I continue to see myself looking across the tracks for two more weeks. About the time they are tearing the building down and I start to feel the separation of the two worlds I stop seeing myself. I go back to dismissing it as a play of the lights. I have stopped looking for myself and I stopped trying to figure out how to help myself and concentrate on my sanity instead.

The Paper Tiger

"You are nothing but a paper Tiger," and without even knowing what that is I know that it is not nice and that he is right. A soft wave of relief flows over me knowing that my state of mind has a name. At leas the person I am here. Really I am two but need to be three. I am searching for the third.

I told Jeff the other day that I wanted the third to be in a room above an Indian Restaurant painted in faded purple smelling of rice and saffron. Leftover posters from old balliwood movies cover the walls, odds and ends that accumulate in a leftover room are stacked in different haphazardly around the place. I don't think I could pull it off. Other than that I have to disappear. If that happens I am only one, the one that is lost, and not three. I can't give up the other two yet.

Stepping right into the conversation I ask the mechanic, "What is a paper tiger?"

Randy now knowing that I am stuck to listen to him smiles and rocks back onto his heels and interlaces his fingers across his chest. His fingers begin to twiddle in that devious little way. "A tiger made of paper looks fierce but has no teeth." He smiles giving me a genuine insult that I simply take in.

I am angered at first but realize that he is speaking the truth. It is hard to be angry at the truth compared to lies. Stepping backwards and away I let Randy enjoy his moment of triumph as he cut me down. Where he finally came up with that realization I don't know but it rings true. I have faked it too long, but even a paper tiger will take a bite only to realize afterwards that it was useless. A tiger remains a tiger paper or not. We are turned into a paper tiger through lack of support and a fear of consequences.

I could return to a true tiger but there is not enough fight in me to do it. The relief of being named is faded. I already know this person. I want to be rid of the paper tiger but I am stuck. The FuzZ and the paper tiger are allies, they fight against me, on the team of my self destruction. With no chance of finding my third i am lost. I don't know what is keeping them at bay I only hope it is love. I am about to arrive and I am not ready and that is unbearable.