Augusta National dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century

“I don’t want to belong to any club that will accept me as a member” – Groucho Marx

I like girls.

I like hanging out in places that have girls.

Don’t get me wrong.  I enjoy a night out with the boys as much as the next guy, but can you imagine hanging out with nothing but dudes all the time?  That doesn’t sound like much fun to me.  It’s why people leave bars at 1:30 in the morning, because the proper ratio of women to men has dwindled down to zero.

Now I’m sure after spending a glorious spring, afternoon strolling Augusta National with Hootie Johnson, the course’s former chairman, not chairperson, he’d be able to break down the golf course’s rich tradition, show you the Eisenhower Tree, and even somewhat convince you they were justified for never, not once in the club’s eighty year history, enrolling a member of the opposite sex.  Perhaps they’ve been allergic to females all this time.  Or maybe they genuinely couldn’t find one ‘worthy’ of their little club.

Well, the times they are a-changin’.  Black people can now sit at restaurant counters, gay couples can marry and women can become members at Augusta National.  Stand up, America, and take a bow.  It only took 400 hundred years for us to understand the true meaning of that whole ‘all men are created equal’ credo.  The snail’s pace at which this country crawls to respect one’s human rights amazes me, but better late than never, I guess. Read more…