Here at The Rock, we haven't had a confirmed case of Augusta Syndrome for years, mostly due to the economic climate.  Our patrons just can't afford annual trips over there.  The other reason has been the facial recognition software employed by Augusta Security Specialists.

This year we suffered an outbreak of AS when a dozen of our patrons chartered a Toyota Tercel and went on a pilgrimage.

Tilda Mae Wooten and her husband Tooten returned with a demand that we install a cupola on top of our clubhouse.  (Here in the South, cupolas primarily served as an observation post to watch for wild Indians and Yankees.)  Judging from scientific demographic surveys (listening to folks talk) of the patronage on the hallowed grounds, cupolas aren't terribly effective for spotting Northern Invaders.  Also, we don't have a clubhouse.

Dr. Nick Pickler, better known as Rockbottum's Nit Picker, came back with a black eye, a pink driver and a strange infatuation with wall-to-wall overseed and rubber pine straw.  The black eye happened during an argument with a golf "expert" who passionately contended that pine needles were actually pine leaves.  Dr. Pickler, unaware the golf expert suffered from Cliff Clavin Disorder, jokingly mentioned oak and maple needles and was immediately waylaid by Cliff's mother.

Ninny Dall contracted azalea poisoning and her husband Hal was victimized by too many pimento cheese whores de ovaries and might die from vowel obsuction.

Surprisingly, nobody demanded we crank our green speeds up from 7.7 to 14.  I suspect it's because several of our patrons work at the Griffin Experiment Station Turf Unit on a study that links ridiculous green speeds to the sudden spike in clinical cases of putting yips, approach yips, back-offs, pre-shot dances and shy kidney . . . yips.

Tara Bull and her husband Fuller suggested we mow our fairways like Augusta.  We thought they meant from green to tee, but they were referring to the much faster use of 25 mowing units per fairway.

Mr. McCracken allowed as how he wouldn't mind a dues increase from the current $7.50 per month to $8, if we wanted to put shop vacs and radiators under the greens, buy some clorox for the bunkers and plant some of those cone-less pine leaved trees.

The entire group was disappointed when they tried to make reservations at the Waffle House after the tournament, but were turned away by an uppity mater dee.

As usual, we distracted our patrons with a short film and they forgot their demands.  Why don't you watch it and see if it can help you forget?