The answer to my clever riddle appears at the end of this entry.
Here we are in Georgia with our beautiful spring weather (actually it's in the 40's and raining today, but we'll just ignore that fact) the flowers are bursting forth into bloom and a canvas of yellow pollen covers the land like snow. That means it's time for The Masters. To the non golf inclined, a golf tournament steeped in tradition and folklore.
Into this pastoral setting, barreling out of the North with all the subtlety of General Sherman, are Martha Burke and Jesse Jackson.
According to these champions of social justice, of all the horrible injustices in this world the most sinister of them all is that a female has not been allowed to join this PRIVATE club. That's right, no female is allowed to sit in a room beside an old white guy named Hootie who likely wears adult undergarments and wets himself and hang out. It is quite understandable that Mr. Jackson would be more upset with this injustice than the problems say of inner city youth, but I guess since no camera is there covering that...
Who would blame Ms. Burke for zeroing in on this shame upon humanity instead of helping women abused by men and helping them collect proper child support, however I suppose her organization's wallet doesn't fatten much with those issues...
I have searched and searched and I tell you I cannot find where anyone would be or could be bettered by the protest. I am all for equal treatment for everyone at all times, but I don't see anything to be gained here. I mean I will never be a member of Augusta because I am poor and not only not "well connected" but likely disconnected! Am I being discriminated against because I am at the poverty level?
I am quite positive if I met the members of Augusta most would piss me off personally, that being the case I still find myself on their side. One of the tenants of our basic American rights is "freedom of association". That was a big deal at the time because the government could arrest you if they didn't like you and your buddies getting together. That's what I see here. It's a slippery slope we go down when you tell people who they can and can't let into their own private associations.
So into the sleepy southern spring we will find Martha, Jesse, and the KKK, strange bedfellows, to be sure, but I think the three deserve each other's company.
The answer to the riddle above?
They have in common that each can bite my ass.