All Hat No Cattle

Cattle Drive, Red River, All Hat No Cattle

The men I respected most when I wrote about the golf business — and being the golf business they were mostly men — were course superintendents. I loved talking with them, because they more than nearly anyone else wanted to be there simply for the grass and the golfers, and in that order. And this appealed to me because it was a care and concern for the thing itself, and for the people who would soon be enjoying it. They were honest and direct — and if they could answer my question they nearly always did.

Second on my list, though, were the golf executives, including even some of the money men. These were the presidents and EVPs of golf management companies, that had recently assaulted the golf industry. This was in the 1990s, and Wall Street and others had turned their attentions to the 15,000+ courses in the U.S. Now there are nearly 20,000 courses, though far fewer management companies, and the money, as it does, headed elsewhere.

But while it focused on golf, I talked with guys in charge of running the companies it was flowing into, companies that hoped to attract more of it, and some of which wanted both.

And the best execs with the most respect were the ones who wouldn’t answer my questions.

Contrary to golf course superintendents, when they could answer they only sometimes did … and sometimes did not. But if they couldn’t, they didn’t. And by couldn’t I mean they wouldn’t talk when the deal wasn’t done. They didn’t say something would happen or — worse — had happened, if it had not.

This was expressed by one when he said, “I don’t have a deal until the check clears.”

This behavior is definitely in the minority, and an even smaller one now that it’s easier to talk about nothing. We had an entire show not that long ago, that was a show about nothing. We have social media whereon people can beg others to look at their blogs like so many poets only reading an echo chamber of other poets, in electronic instead of print form. Even the 15 minutes of fame has shrunk to maybe 15 seconds — and we’re happy, ecstatic to have it.

It’s a far cry from, say, George Mueller, who helped more than 100,000 orphans, among other accomplishments, in London in the 19th century. He did thousands of — literally — remarkable things, and reportedly (no pun intended) said few words about them. I suppose we could count all those times he preached about them, but in this day, it’s notable that he never directly asked for money. That’s a cardinal error in fundraising, and Pastor Mueller made it for more than 70 years.

Because even Christians these days wdn’t get very far with Hudson Taylor’s life slogan, To move man, through God, by prayer alone.

What a rube. What a poltroon.

Would that he were hero to all.

In fact, I’m not even going to mention this post. Not anywhere. You’re allowed to continue reading it, and I hope you do, but I won’t mention it in all the usual places. Nor even in the unusual places.

Don’t hear what I’m not saying.

Don’t make this what it is not.

I’m not saying we can never talk about anything we do, not ever, not anywhere, not no way, not no how. The point isn’t that we ought never do such things — though for many it’d be a great idea. We could do a lot worse. We could try the Mueller-Taylor approach just for kicks, for laughs, for funs. Try it for not trying to get anything else from it. Heck, just do it for a month or so. See how it feels.

I plan to keep writing, for instance, and I want people to know, to find the books and ebooks, blogs and essays. The list will grow, and the electronic has no “backlist” and no out-of-print. So it will be there. I can talk briefly about such things if people ask, and I’ll keep using social media to get that word out.

But not this time.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Recent

Coyotes and Christians

I am not saying Christians are like coyotes. [For that, some could cut caustically to coyotes are like Christians — tricksters, roaming in the dark, feeding on the dead … ] Simply noticed — somewhat in passing, as it’s said, having attained, apparently … achieved? … some kind of state where nearly anything I hear,

Read More »

And Did Dostoevsky Say ‘Beauty Will Save’

Short answer: he did not. Neither did Prince Myshkin, that we know of. Likely both believed it. Beauty — in the person of Christ — will do so. And clearly D wrote of M in The Idiot to explore art and beauty and ugliness and salvation. But did he say it, and did he believe that

Read More »

What I Recalled Watching Netflix

[Television is educational.]   One Saying the same stuff over and over looks like you have different things to say. Two If you’re ever in a below-average film or streaming series, and you beat the tar out of a guy, in a house, and you gaze down in both some shock as also a certain

Read More »

Seeking the King

A line everywhere misattributed to Chesterton reads thus: The young man who rings the bell at the brothel is unconsciously looking for God. This line is not from the great [several senses of the word] man who recently celebrated his 150th birthday, but the mid-century most unmodern novelist Bruce Marshall. The words — which do

Read More »

Random

It’s Alright, I Am A Jerk

Don’t drive angry. And don’t drive ignorant. That’s the lesson of the Bill Murray movie, eponymous to the name of yesterday’s Punxsutawney festivities. The movie is now 20 years old, and still has an 8.1 ranking at IMDB from nearly a quarter million users. Watching the movie is a ritual now, like “Elf” or “A Christmas

Read More »

Inglorious Bastards

This is a post borne of a recent article in Leadership Journal, by a guy who’s been meeting with Ted Haggard. I don’t usually write on stuff like that — it is cheeseball to even appear to piggyback for one’s own benefit on somebody else’s popular post, or to try and capitalize on an au

Read More »

Time, Treasure

Saw an episode ages ago of one of the Twilight Zone reboots which, I’m pretty sure, starred Mark Hamill as this weird kid who collected toys. All this kitschy stuff from the ‘50s and grew up collecting them — and thus stayed weird and for the most part apparently lonely for his life entire. Of course

Read More »

Make No Mistake

When I played baseball in 10th grade, our coach was forever admonishing us to Give 110% — often prefaced by a forlorn C’mon fellas … [In 11th grade, the coach would line us up against the chain link fence in front of the dugout and hit baseballs at us. He said this was to train our

Read More »

Related

Too Old For This

You know the line. Usually spoken by an ersatz Bruce Willis type, it is well past cliché, sliding in safely but awkwardly beyond its years to self-parody, as predictable as the pablum in which it appears. [And note, I like every other Die Hard movie.] And yet, here I am: Too old for this. I

Read More »

I’ve Said Too Much

There’s a danger of saying too much. There’s always that. I wrote previously and succinctly about stories. Here’s a longer exploration I’ve been working on, off and on, for about a year. * Every true story starts with realizing something is out of place and involves people asking who they are in a world where things (they now see)

Read More »

Pas De Duh

Is ballet a sport? The question is asinine in at least two ways. Of course it is, whether one is asking does it qualify as one or simply based on the assumptions implicit in the question itself. To put it as stupidly, would a Ferrari fit in my garage? Is Rivendell a better deal than

Read More »

Itch-A-Sketch

Church folk and artists haven’t always been friends. Ha. Get it? Because it seems they’ve almost never been friends, though that’s not true, and shouldn’t be, but just how much it shouldn’t be isn’t clear. It’s as someone said about once about a poet: Dylan Thomas wrote six great poems, but no one knows which

Read More »