The first one went so well, I thought I'd try another! (
It is still very cold here, and living second-hand through Benjamin's travels can only get me so far.)
In his myth of Sisyphus, Camus paints a picture of the existential hero: condemned by the gods to forever rolling a huge boulder up to the top of a mountain, only to watch it roll back to the bottom again and so have to repeat the same mindless (and futile) process again and again, for all of eternity. Sisyphus is a doubly-tragic figure because he is fully conscious/aware of the absurdity of the task, and of his fate, and he also knows there is no hope of a change -- ever. Camus focuses on both this self-awareness as well as on those moments when Sisyphus is walking back down the mountain, free for a little while from his heavy burden. The sun shines on his face, the breeze cools off his sweat, and, at least briefly, Sisyphus stops himself from looking back in regret (at what might have been) or from looking forward (to a future free from this condemnation) and manages to fully accept his fate. It is in these very moments, Camus suggests, that Sisyphus rises above his fate and disarms the gods, freeing himself from their condemnation -- since, as soon as he stops hoping for something to be different than it is and instead embraces his absurd fate, the 'punishment' ceases to be a punishment. And it is right then, Camus concludes, that we "must imagine Sisyphus happy."
So I'm thinking: if only Mr. Hogan could've embraced RTJ's changes to Oakland Hills (even after he'd won the '51 US Open there), and if only we could all stop complaining about having to hit narrow fairways and having no strategic options off the tee and of putting on lightening fast greens and of losing balls in cross/water hazards, perhaps we too could be considered "happy". In other words, if we could simply embrace the fate (and punishments) that penal architects had designed for us to face, they would cease to be "punishments" -- and we could then be free to focus instead on the sun on our faces and the breeze cooling off our sweat.
After all, we live in an existentialist era, so why not golf in one too? Is our love for width and options simply our steadfast refusal to squarely face the facts of our (golfing) lives? Perhaps the lesson is: say a resounding "Yes" to every penal design ever created, and so say a resounding "yes" to (golfing) life!!
Peter