For some reason this article in the Times about a mogul who his building his own 'hip' 'cool' golf club in the Hamptons really cracks me up.
The clubhouse — glassy and aggressively futuristic — looks more like
a contemporary art museum in Berlin, which is not inappropriate, since
it will feature, upon its completion this fall, art from Mr. Rubin’s
collection. A satirical piece called “Arthur Negro I,” a life-size
statue of a black revolutionary in an argyle sweater and plus fours, by
Charles McGill, a black artist, will stand in the pro shop.
You really need to click through and see the sculpture. Having satirical lawn jockeys in your country club does not suffice to make it cool. In fact, it makes you look like a jerk. The NYT is trying to salvage this guy's good name by pointing out that the artist is black, but...
Mr. Ferris said the sort of person who will feel most welcome at the
Bridge is a new generation of Hamptonite. This generation tended to
make its money on Wall Street during the freewheeling 1990’s or in the
hedge fund or real estate explosions of recent years but lacks the
pedigree or connections to join, say, the Shinnecock Hills Golf Club,
the National Golf Links of America or the Maidstone Club on the South
Fork (although several Bridge members hold memberships at multiple
local clubs, Mr. Rubin said).
"Several"? Suuuuure.
“The thing about the Maidstone is that you can have all the money in
the world, and it won’t help you,” Mr. Columbia said. “They care about
your last name."
This is where I come in. Everyone in my family on my mom's side belongs to the Maidstone. I used to go there for summer camp. I'm very fond of it, and I object to it changing in any way (although the food has gotten better and I'm fine with that.) I want to see deeply tanned old men in pale pink but originally brick red pants! Widewale courduroy pants with whales embroidered on them! Lilly Pulitzer! Coral toenails and lime green Ferragamo slides! I disapprove of trophy wives who wear diamond jewelry to the beach and scorn them openly! You get the picture. It's echt-WASP parochialism, and I like it that way. Of course, I like it that way from afar, and I go there once or twice every two years. I like knowing it's there, though. Please note that I recognize it is snobby and ridiculous. It just has the virtue of being old, and old things seem more reasonable than new things, even if they are substantively the same. They even let Jewish people in now! Well, two, anyway. After a big fight.
“It’s [the Bridge] the most outside-the-box club in the United States, without
question,” Mr. Ferris said proudly, wearing copper and turquoise Pumas,
his silver locks tickling his shirt collar.
I wondered whether the Times was trying to make this guy come off as an ass. Now, where the silver locks meet the collar, I have my answer. "Dude, my hair's getting good in the back!" Anyway, clubs aren't supposed to be outside-the-box. It's oxymoronic.
Neil Barsky, 48, a hedge fund manager, recalled playing as a guest at
Quaker Ridge Golf Club in Scarsdale, N.Y., a few years ago, when he ran
into the father of a friend, who was a member: “I stuck out my hand,
said, ‘Hi, Mr. So-and-so.’ He looked at me and said, ‘Tuck in your
shirt, young man.’ I don’t think that would happen at the Bridge.”
Wait, that's a reason not to belong to Quaker Ridge? That's actually awesome, and do you know why? How often can a man of 45 plausibly be referred to as "young man", and be made to feel like a rebel who's sticking it to the older generation by not tucking in his shirt? People pay good money for that! Going to a club where the older members lord it over you gives you opportunities to break the rules and get that naughty teenagers have a beach party feeling when you're in your early fifties! And then when you get all old everyone will have to kiss your butt!
Not everyone in the Hamptons, however, accepts the notion that
style is why people are joining the Bridge. Andrea Ackerman, the
manager of the Brown Harris Stevens real estate offices in Southampton
and Sag Harbor, said that the Atlantic Golf Course in Bridgehampton
“was the answer to every golfer’s prayer who wanted to belong to a
great golf club and couldn’t,” but now even the Atlantic is full, and
moneyed golfers are simply clamoring for the next open spot they see.
“The Bridge is more of an overflow from Atlantic than Shinnecock or
Maidstone,” she said.
Ow, that hurt.
Mr. Rubin has no problem with the new-money
aura of the Bridge. Even though some of his members also belong to the
Shinnecock and the National, he seems to exercise a form of reverse
snobbery against the old-money elites that set the tone at the more
traditional clubs. To Mr. Rubin, who last weekend was strolling the
hilly sun-dappled grounds of the Bridge looking unshaved and a bit
rumpled in baggy navy shorts and sky-blue Chuck Taylors, some of those
people probably aren’t quite right for the Bridge, either.
“People
who haven’t made their money are very hesitant to spend $600,000 to
join a golf club, and for good reason,” the self-made mogul said. “They
have to be careful with their money.”
Oooh, snap! Cracker, please, with the Chuck Taylors. This whole enterprise is so fraught with snobbery and class anxiety. Do you want to belong to a golf club in the Hamptons? OK! You want to start a new one so all your cool pals can be in it, again, rock on, Richie Rich! But doing so does not make you a rebel, and bitterly complaining 'who cares if they won't let me into their club, they can't even afford my club, but it's not about the money, and I wouldn't let them in anyway nyah!' does not help your case. Also, you should have just shut the door on the Times reporter, dude, You had to know they were going to screw you, because the Gray Lady is the voice of the establishment, and turquiose and copper Pumas or no, you are a "52-year-old son of an appliance repairman, from Perth Amboy, N.J." Perth. Amboy.
Obviously I should know what 
(DVD) marked down 50%. Ah, that particular run really takes me back. I think it was the first I ever watched.
