Posts Tagged ‘Mystery’

A Moment of Gratitude

To this day, I really don’t know what happened. I’ve heard some stories and have a few paper trail type details, but that’s it. After a string of 2,000 mile weeks, a notable in the golf world fumbling the ball and blaming everyone else including me and a bunch of other little and big things, I started not sleeping. For me, that’s nothing new. I’ve not really been into sleep that much and for what it seemed, my body didn’t need much.

But then came one big hassle after another and not only was I not sleeping much, for about 7 days I didn’t sleep at all. That program might be OK for some crazy backwoods tweaker who has nothing to do but shoot at stumps all day and has the help of meth to make the body do things, but for me, I continued to work and didn’t supply more than the usual foods to my system along with a bunch of coffee and some Red Bull. When the rubber band snapped on this program, I found myself now not knowing who or where I was. Actually, I didn’t find myself, others found me.

It’s been 12 months since all of this went down. I get what happened now and have heard most of the stories. Some much needed time off and some good treatment and things got straight pretty quickly and I emerged a different person. But taking a little time off during August is kind of one of the things that lots of Turfheads, myself included, don’t really like to do. But in this case, I didn’t really have a choice.

“What I remember most about that time, is the outpouring of love that I received from my friends. Most of whom are Turfheads. Because, that’s who I usually choose to hang with.”

What I remember most about that time is the outpouring of love that I received from my friends, most of whom are Turfheads. Because, that’s who I usually choose to hang with. And without fail, each and every one of them asked me why I didn’t speak up or ask them for some support. Truth? When you are in the middle of the pickle jar, you don’t know you are really the pickle. And that’s the truth. I didn’t ask for support, because well, I didn’t know I needed it.

There’s not a day that goes by that I’m thankful for the community that I’m fortunate enough to call myself a part of. I’ve seen the folks in our business go far out of their way to take care of each other. A lot of that comes from the fact that when you spend most of your days working without a net, it feels good to help someone else. That’s not rocket psychology, it’s just a human truth.

Every one of us has experienced some kind of life drama. Everyone does. And everyone discovers surprising and unknown facts about themselves. That’s what revelation is. I consider the revelations that came to me in a very difficult time to be of huge value. I learned a lot about Dave Wilber. Some stuff I didn’t want to know and other things, surprisingly wonderful.

It’s August. And most of us know that August has an ass-kicking way to teach us things. If you’ve grown grass at any level and haven’t had some kind of lesson in this form, then it’s really not a matter of “if”, it’s more about “when”. I’ve gotten more than a few of those experiences. The technical lessons are there. Don’t ever spray that again… etc. But the emotional lessons are a bit harder to see. There isn’t a winter turf conference for these lessons to be examined. So that’s why I’m grateful for my friends and my support network and the Great Mystery of Faith. Therein lay the education that I most often need.

If your world and your August are giving you a beating, there really isn’t any shame in reaching out for support. I wish I had known this. But at the same time I’m eternally glad for the lesson and humbled by the opportunity to share it here.

The Turfhead Mysteries, Part 1.1


This next series of Turfgrass Zealot posts is going to be a challenge for me. As much as I really didn’t want to become a “blogger” in the first place, I REALLY don’t want to tackle a series. Especially this series. But I polled some people who I call friends and they put me up to saying I would do this. Of course, they are probably the same “friends” who would let me drink SeviMol, just to see me do “The Worm”. Yet, though, I still listen.

Turfheads are a magical breed. They don’t think like regular people and they really aren’t aliens. But there are things that they do, universally, that often just make no sense. Call it culture. Call it “The Biz”. Call it just being a monkey; it just plain happens. And it’s not just some regional thing where you can blame the air or the type of grass that gets grown or the existence of a particular Veruca Salt-like gadfly overseeding us all with their ideas on how to grow grass. In my travels, I have seen these things as universal misunderstood truths. Turfhead Mysteries.

I’m going to change a lot of names to protect the innocent and the morons here. I’m also going to give some examples to illustrate points. By no means does that mean I am targeting anyone. I can’t do this and water it down to the point that it has no teeth.

Part 1.1

In Which the Turfhead Complains Endlessly About A Bedfellow and Still Sleeps With Them Anyway.

In every geographical area I have ever visited, there is a regional company, distributor or even salesperson that everyone talks about as being the absolute worst at what they do. It’s not a now and again thing, it is a constant. I’ve seen it as a Super, as a Consultant, as an Advisor, as a Sales Rep and even as an expert witness. I’ve even seen it on vacation. Start a conversation about products and services with a Golf Course Superintendent about who they do business with and you will hear about the company that usually does everything right and the company that always does everything wrong.

The conversation about the company or rep or whomever always getting it right is usually brief and to the point. It’s their job. It’s what they are supposed to do. End of story.

The conversation about the distribution version of the Village Idiot is always the long one. It is a yarn spun of the stupid stuff said company or individual does. The story is often spiced with myriad examples of crossing the line of just plain stupidity. Bad service. Obscene prices. Wrong deliveries. General cluelessness. The stories are always flavored with the resulting hassles that occurred, the lost hours and the overall frustration of not getting what you want, when you want it and how you want it.

The story is often filled with all kinds of examples of crossing the line of just plain stupidity. Bad service. Obscene prices. Wrong deliveries. General cluelessness.

When I was growing grass, I thought often that is was just me: I must be too hard on them… I must have expectations that are just too grand, much like lots of my members… I need to chill. So before you go thinking that I don’t know what I’m talking about, let me express my guilt right here. Cuff me. I’m a Turfhead. I’ve bought from the idiots too, complained about them, fought with them and still thrown the bones.

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