Here's a holiday chuckle for you:
It's no secret that I really, really don't like to travel. I don't mind being elsewhere (although home is always the best place), I just don't like the process of getting there and back. And every trip, it seems, has a story. This one has a Real Slap-Me-Upside-the-Head WTF Moment in it.
I'm not one of those who fixate on frequent flyer miles, affinity programs and all that. The LAST thing I want is a free ticket anywhere, although on second thought
Music used to be a HUGE part of my life, at least on the listening end. All encompassing, enveloping, everywhere. Massive stereo system, an entire wall of electronics and a library of vinyl.
Fast-forward 40 years or so and the vinyl and high-end audio components have been replaced with an iPad, a Bose SoundDock and a Sonos Play5 system for wireless streaming from Pandora or my iPad. (The Sonos was a gift rather than an investment of my own.) My CDs are either scratched from the car and toss
I like to go places, see things and meet people. I just hate the process of getting there and back.
How much do I hate it, notably airline travel? Let me count the ways... I hate time inefficiency. I hate waiting around. I hate delays, mechanical or weather or otherwise. I REALLY hate missed connections and cancelled flights.
I hate a whole day to get somewhere, another whole day to get back, and then another day to recover from the process.
I hate being herded like cattle. It's i
I'm admittedly a little late with my year-end backward glance and look-forward prognostications. But so it is these days... so much to do, seemingly so little time.
2014 is a milestone year, of sorts. TurfNet turns 20 on February 1 and I turn 60 on July 4. I'm not sure which is more monumental. Probably the former, given the odds.
As I have said many times, one of my first goals as a newbie entrepreneur slicing through the uncharted waters of a paid information service/networking plat
One of the things we wordsmiths often do is ask someone else to proofread a column or article before we hit the publish key. That's one reason why newspapers have editors, of course.
Other than correcting grammatical errors or catching typos, the real benefit of a second set of eyes (SSOE) is determining if the piece reads well or otherwise makes sense. You see, when one is intimately involved in writing or creating something (or tending to a golf course for that matter), everything makes s
A favorite conversational topic of mine among my graying peers is whether or not they have a Bucket List, and if so, what's on it. I ask because I'm interested in them (the person), but also because I don't have one (Bucket List), and wonder if I might be missing something.
How can one not have a Bucket List? I touched on this in a post about a year ago, but in review, I have already checked off the major bullet points that would populate most lists:
I've been happily married to m
The Golf Industry Show is a few weeks away and I thought it time to assess the event in advance, at least in my mind's eye from my perch in the cheap seats. For what that's worth.
Nobody I've spoken with is anything more than underwhelmed with San Antonio as host city. Bad memories of travel experiences three years ago -- both to and from the iced-over state of Texas -- still linger
I never made it at all. My Monday afternoon flight was waylaid and the best the airlines could do was ge
I was chatting with Larry Stowell of PACE Turf the other day about the state of the industry in general, our businesses in particular and the challenges of making sense of the rapid technological change today.
In his unique role as "maestro" of his and Wendy Gelernter's turf research clearinghouse (for lack of a better term, as PACE Turf — like TurfNet — defies definition in a concise sentence or less), Larry has long been a voice of reason in our sometimes heated or volatile Forum discussio
The subject line of a somewhat curious email I received last week caught my eye. Regarding an impending local chapter meeting, it was titled "Sad state of affairs", and went like this:
"I was wondering if anyone can help me. As I'm sure to be asked, please help me with the answer to 'why do we have 12 class A members signed up for the July meeting'? and of that, more than half are board members. Luckily with others we have almost 50 total. Sad.
That's right. A great venue with educa
Laying the framework for this story requires a bit of background, so bear with me...
About three weeks ago Team TurfNet was headed for Niagara Falls, Ontario, for our 20th appearance at the Golf Course Hockey Challenge. For those unfamiliar, the GCHC is a 2-day event every January that pits 12 teams of superintendents, assistants and suppliers against one another in (usually) good-natured but serious men's-league caliber hockey. With three common threads among players -- playing hockey, wor
I heard yesterday about Toro's impending purchase of Venture Products just like most everyone did, via social media. Venture Products manufactures the increasingly popular and versatile Ventrac line of all-terrain prime movers and attachments.
My initial knee-jerk reaction was, "Perfect! Score one for Toro..." and of course for the Steiner family, owners of Venture Products. Toro will be a good steward of the brand, "Toro-ize" it to their standards, develop new attachments and take the line
My parents used to drill into my siblings and me, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything." I've taken that a step further lately with the adage, "If I don't have something meaningful to say, don't say anything." -- hence my hiatus from the Cheap Seats blog of late. But I'm back.
I was reading a book over the Easter weekend entitled When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi. Not my usual reading fare (I lean toward murder mysteries, legal and police procedurals), but w
From the TurfNet Archives, Jan 2001:
Some people get really hung up on image, whether personal or professional. If you have teenage kids, you know what I mean. I am generally secure enough to avoid that, but do admit to having one image to uphold. You can't be the TurfNet guy and have a lousy lawn.
While all of our neighbors hire out their lawn maintenance, I stubbornly resist. Not only is it good exercise, but it's good for the mind. I do much of my best thinking while mowing the la
This just drives me nuts. A superintendent is squeezed between the egos of a green chairman and a few other "influential people" and his obligation to the membership that is paying the bills. A classic tale of what ails this business. The AF (Asshole Factor for those not familiar with the term) brought into stark relief.
The superintendent in question is managing one-year old greens. They're young, not ready for aggressive management practices. An amateur tournament is approaching. You kno
Racism in the golf turf industry? Say what? Yagottabekiddinme.
Of course I jest. There is no racism in golf turf.
That’s because, for all intents and purposes, there is only one race in golf turf management. In salaried positions (superintendents and assistants, and we might as well include suppliers, academics and the media as well), we are 99% white... and 99% male. Those figures are my guesstimates, but if these things are tracked somewhere — and what isn’t — I doubt I'd be more tha
I don't get inspired by life events too much anymore to pick up the pen and scribe a column for the "Cheap Seats" but I can't let my Monday past go without comment. It was a day (morning, actually) of irritation, resignation, conflicting feelings, awe, pride and wonderment. It was my day in court.
The story starts about six weeks ago when I received an envelope in the mail from the United States District Court, District of Vermont, with JUROR SUMMONS showing through the window. Ah, shit,
I listened for years (albeit with one ear) to the adulation of the MacIntosh devotees, singing the praises of the computing system on which most of the software applications I used wouldn't work.
Every three years or so when my PC died (or was on life support), I would briefly toy with the idea of taking that plunge. But nah, couldn't justify the 3x cost compared to a PC, not to mention the learning curve and aforementioned software incompatibilities.
Not that I was ever a huge fan of M
A long-time TurfNet member got 'the news' from his club last week. (I almost started off that sentence with "another" rather than "a", hopefully not a harbinger of a trend.)
He had served that club for 33 years, the last 30 as superintendent.
No recent mistakes, turf loss, malfeasance or other gruel for the axman. Quite the contrary, in fact, with a multitude of projects (including a multi-year renovation) successfully completed. He had just been awarded a larger than usual performance
I am fortunate to be able to spend a few months each year on a small island in the lower Bay of Fundy in eastern Canada. (Some would say I'm "lucky", but luck has nothing to do with it.)
Our home is almost at the northern tip of this 9 mile x 3 mile island, which narrows down to a 50 yard-wide peninsula topped by the Head Harbour Lightstation, a scenic lighthouse with 270 degree views of the surrounding bays. The lighthouse is a popular destination for tourists, lighthouse aficionados (of w
Reading Paul MacCormack's recent blog post about the concept of intention got me thinking... as good blog posts do. In this case, it prompted me to think of the popular concepts of luck and good fortune, and how each may or may not be related to intention.
I come from a long line of wordsmiths (writers, editors, a photojournalist, newspaper people, even a dictionary editor) who instilled in me a love of language and its various nuances. My maternal grandmother, an author of children's first
I'm not a huge fan of Twitter -- I prefer my conversations to be a touch deeper than 140 characters will allow -- but I follow turf-related tweets and do find certain things of value. Amidst all the extrania, I love the photos. Golf course sunrises, maintenance practices du jour, summer crew shenanigans, golfer foibles... they're all good.
Somebody out there in the Twitterverse had the foresight to register the Twitter handle @superproblems and aggregate tweets from superintendents all arou
Good blog post last week, Dave. Resonated with a lot of people (over 18,000 as I write this), and I'm sure it was therapeutic for you.
Dave, we need to talk.
As we get older we look back on our lives and tend to remember the defining moments: the first girlfriend, first car, first garage band, sports triumphs (and losses), graduations, jobs, marriage and divorce, kids, dogs, grandkids, granddogs, and yes -- the death of friends and loved ones. You get the picture.
In many ways our
It's been a tough year or so for my 60-ish friends.
Last Thanksgiving long-time TurfNet member and one of my best personal friends, Jerry Coldiron, left us way too soon, at 60, of cardiac arrest.
Shortly after Valentine's Day it was an 18-year stalwart on our TurfNet hockey team, Tom Morris CGCS (ret), at 61. They thought it was the flu but turned out to be spinal meningitis, source unknown, four days soup to nuts. Went to bed and didn't wake up. Again, way too young.
We just arr
It's Sunday morning, 6:00 AM, Father's Day.
Even though the last round of the US Open will tee off at Shinnecock shortly, I'm not going to carry on about the brown greens that were broadcast around the world yesterday. I do feel sorry for Jon Jennings and his staff who have busted their humps for two years only to have it go to shit at the last minute... at the USGA's behest, I'm fairly sure. I guess they didn't learn anything from the wind-whipped forest fire on the greens there in 2004.
After writing a monthly column in our now-retired print newsletter (TurfNet Monthly, for those not around then) for 17 or 18 years, I sort of ran out of things of import to say on a regular basis. No sense contributing to more milquetoast, editorial drivel or fill-up-space pontification... there's plenty of that elsewhere.
Occasionally something starts the gears whirring and prompts me to sit down and write. Yesterday was one of those occasions.
I finally caught up by phone with an ol
