I recently read the following headline from U.S. News & World Report concerning an article by Health Day reporter Alan Mozes. The headline read, “College Students Who Binge Drink Say They’re Happier.”
While they are at it, I would suggest the magazine also have a few other headlines such as, “Marijuana Smokers Report Cartoons are Funnier When They are High.” Or, “Fifteen-Year-Old Boys Report They Enjoy Looking at Magazines with Naked Women.”
I’m not sure what the purpose of the article really was, but I don’t think it takes a major investigation to determine that college students think they are happy when they are binge drinking. I seriously doubt that binge drinking leads to a happier life, but it appears this article was focusing on the belief of the drinker.
As I have said before, my father often says: “It doesn’t matter if you are good looking. It only matters if you think you are good looking.” I guess, at least for college students, the same holds true for drinking.
Speaking of drinking, I suspect there are more than a few members of Augusta National Golf Course who poured a stiff drink after discovering that the golf course has finally relented and allowed two women to join this exclusive club. Understand, this club is so exclusive that it is rumored Bill Gates was rejected when he first applied for membership.
The new members are Condoleezza Rice, who I am sure most people know, and South Carolina financier Darla Moore, who I assume most people have never heard of. Condoleezza Rice is sort of understandable, given that she is the former secretary of state. But exactly who in the world is Ms. Moore?
Well, apparently Ms. Moore is good friends with Hootie Johnson, who was the former chairman of Augusta National. Both have their roots in South Carolina banking, so even in historic landmark decisions, connections always matter.
Now that Augusta National has fallen, I fear there are few refuges left for the American male. Women earned the right to vote a hundred years ago. Entered the work force en mass during World War II and thereafter. The sexual revolution then hit in the late ’60s and early ’70s, but as far as I can tell never much got off the ground in Dawson, and then in the 1980s women got the right to join the Rotary Club. Now they too can enjoy speeches from the assistant secretary to the secretary of the Department of Labor concerning Georgia being designated as a “Ready to Work State,” even if 20 percent of its population wouldn’t work if threatened with a blow torch and bullwhip.
Women now go to NASCAR races in equal numbers to men, wearing all types of NASCAR garb. One is now just as likely to see a female on hands and knees barking at a Georgia Bulldog game as a male. Women are now preachers, lawyers and sports reporters who are allowed to go into the men’s locker room. I want to be a women’s tennis reporter, but I seriously doubt they’d allow me to go into the women’s locker room. Surely, someplace, somewhere, it is OK for a man just to be a man and to be in an environment with only men. And, no, I do not mean Castro Street in San Francisco.
Oh, well, Augusta National has now fallen and it’s probably only a matter of time before women will be asking for things like equal pay and to keep their last name when they get married. It’s official. I’m a relic, like finding an old Spanish coin. I should have been born in 1880. I now can’t join Augusta National. I think I’ll retreat to my man cave and binge drink.
Health Day says I’ll be happier.
Contact columnist T. Gamble at email@example.com.