My home office overlooks a horseshoe-shaped gravel driveway and an expanse of lawn bordered by stands of pines, maples and oaks. It is a soothing country scene, and I often turn from my desk during writing sessions to draw inspiration from the view – and maybe even clear my head. Sometimes, I am lucky enough to catch glimpses of cottontails scampering across the grass, or watch a rafter of wild turkeys trot by. It is also not unusual to see mallards suddenly alight in the puddles that form on parts of our property after hard rains and then frolic in the water for a spell.
But as I have worked on this week’s Global Golf Post cover package on the labor crisis in golf, I’ve recently noticed something else. And that is, I am dealing at home with many of the same issues afflicting my friends who work in the game as golf professionals, course superintendents or general managers.
... my abode is a charming New England Cape that, like me, requires a lot of upkeep.
The grass that makes up my lawn these days, for example, is as long and thick as U.S. Open rough. And I am not sure when it will next get mowed. That’s because the fellow who runs the local landscape business cannot hire enough workers to take care of his customers in a timely fashion. It also explains why he is unable to deliver a load of new gravel for the driveway, which is rutted and mostly composed of dirt these days after a winter of his crew plowing snow – and stones – off of it.
The chimney sweep whom I have used for decades is equally as short-staffed, and months after contacting him about a problem with pieces of mortar breaking away from the inside of our living-room fireplace, I still am waiting for a work estimate, let alone word on when he can complete the job.
Two months ago, I finally was able to induce a local contractor to give me a price to replace a trio of windows that have become so drafty that the wind whistles through them. But he cannot get to the job until August, at the earliest.
Now, one might say these are First World problems and rather minor concerns when compared to the more pressing issues of the day. But like it or not, the First World is where I live. And my abode is a charming New England Cape that, like me, requires a lot of upkeep.
People also might wonder why I do not take on these tasks myself. But after years of running over wasp nests with my lawnmower and diving into boxwood bushes when ladders slip, I determined that the safer and more sensible course of action was to hire someone to perform those duties.
But these days, that is a lot easier said than done. Like a lot of people in golf, I could use some help.
E-MAIL JOHN
John Steinbreder