Nov 23, 2023
Welcome to "Experience in Golf Clubhouse Design", a podcast that delves into the world of golf clubhouse architecture and interior design, uncovering the fascinating intricacies of human interaction and its profound impact on member lifestyles. Let's immerse ourselves in the realm of architecture, exploring the concepts and details that pave the way for a successful golf clubhouse and resort experience, from proshop design to fitness and dining. In today's episode, we'll cover a review of an old article titled "The clubhouse of my dreams" by Dan Jenkins from Golf Digest, exploring evolving perspectives over time.
Hey everyone, let's dive into an interesting article titled "The
Clubhouse of My Dreams" by Dan Jenkins. Even though it was
published back in June 2007 in Golf Digest, it's worth revisiting
today to see how opinions might have changed over the years.
The article focuses on the author's personal thoughts and dreams
about an ideal clubhouse. It explores the various features,
amenities, and atmosphere that would make it truly perfect. Now, as
we reflect on this article, it's intriguing to consider how our own
perspectives might differ from those several years ago.
When it comes to clubhouses, opinions can vary widely. Some of us
might prioritize state-of-the-art fitness facilities, while others
crave luxurious locker rooms. For some, it's all about the dining
experience, with top-notch restaurants and a wide selection of
cuisine. And let's not forget the ambiance – the perfect clubhouse
should create an atmosphere that is welcoming, relaxed, and
conducive to socializing.
As time goes by, our expectations and desires tend to evolve.
Technological advancements, architectural trends, and changes in
lifestyle preferences all play a role in shaping our perspective on
the clubhouse of our dreams.
So, as we journey through this article together, let's keep in mind
how times have changed. What features do you think the ideal
clubhouse should have today? Are there any aspects that you feel
have become more or less important over the years? Join in the
conversation and let's explore this captivating topic further.
The clubhouse of my dreams
By Dan Jenkins June 25, 2007
In thinking about what might constitute the perfect clubhouse to go
along with the Best Modern eighteen, it was my immediate thought
that there should always be navy bean soup on the menu.
Then I thought that if such were the case, I wouldn't much care
about the rest of it, except for one other thing: Anyone who wished
to not smoke would have to go outdoors.
Did I say that with a straight face? I meant to. That's because I'm
no longer allowed to smoke in front of human beings, or my bypass.
It's a curse I live with now, after forty-five years when a
cigarette was the best friend I ever had. There were packs of them
that wrote entire game stories for me on deadline, and cartons that
wrote whole novels.
Which reminds me of the day a year ago when I remarked to my friend
P. J. O'Rourke, who happens to be an all-star smoker as well as an
all-star writer, "If you want to do something hard, try writing a
book without smoking." To which he said, "What's the byline on your
new one-'By the Man Who's Not Funny Anymore'?"
Militant nonsmokers find it hard to comprehend this attitude. The
only thing I can say to help them understand it is to ask them to
consider what meaningless lives they would live if they had to give
up telling everybody else what to do.
Of course, there are other enemies of the people out there who feel
as strongly about not eating navy bean soup as they do about not
smoking, which is why I try never to play golf at a club that
serves yogurt.
But back to the ideal clubhouse. It would have to look as if it
held U.S. Opens for a hobby; that it certainly held more U.S. Opens
than debutante parties. I visualize a couple of Merions tacked onto
the side of an Oakmont, with a shaded back veranda like the one at
Winged Foot.
All members would naturally be regular readers of me, and be
required to have read at least one book in a lifetime, even if it
was nothing more than Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays with
Morrie's Long Lost Brother.
The club shouldn't have so many golf members that you'd ever need a
starting time on any day of the week, including Saturdays and
Sundays. Fivesomes, even gangsomes, would be permitted, if not
encouraged.
Snack bars would be located near the third, sixth, ninth, 12th and
15th greens, and well-supplied beverage carts, operated by former
Miss Congenialities, would also be available to go along with any
impatient group that required one.
Valet parking is an essential at any decent club. But not for used
SUVs, which would have to be parked five miles away, somewhere near
the freeway where they'd broken down. Maybe in a vacant field where
they can grow rust while their owners wait for the parts to be
shipped from Montana.
Views are good. Members need to be able to sit around in the Men's
Grill-Mixed Foursome Room-Cork Room-Hogan Room-Tap Room-Pour Folks
Room-Tavern and gaze out and watch geezers three-putt the storied
18th green after taking a drop out of the storied pond.
The Microchip Room would be a must. I see it over in a remote
corner of the clubhouse, no view. A place where 32-year-old Cyber
Fraud and his lovely wife, Dot Com, can dine with all the other
dot.com people, eat yogurt and talk about the $17 million they made
that day in the stock market.
We all know guys who fancy a live-in locker room. The sprawling,
leathery, cushiony locker room where they can eat, drink, nap,
drool, read, argue, drop towel, conduct phone bidness, and elect
senators and congressmen at their leisure.
This kind of locker room is a necessity, I suppose, although
personally I don't particularly enjoy eating my navy bean soup and
BLT in a place where naked geezers frequently wander about after
they come out of the shower stalls. I'd very much prefer it if they
kept their cream gravy storage tanks or skeletal remains to
themselves.
There ought to be some historic value to the locker room. For this
purpose, I'd borrow Hogan's locker that's preserved and
plexiglassed at Shady Oaks, and I'd borrow those two from Maidstone
on Long Island where the names of Grantland Rice and Ring Lardner
are displayed.
The club shouldn't be all that exclusive and upper crust. Nothing
like, say, Swindley Forest over in a London suburb, where you can't
be a member if you've ever had a job. I'd want a few aging oil and
cattle barons for set decoration, along with their fourth wives,
who still fly for Lufthansa. A criminal lawyer, a friendly banker,
and, I think it goes without saying, two or three cardiovascular
surgeons-for the smokers.
Obviously this article is written with a little tongue in cheek,
but it does have some relevant points to consider. What would you
add to this list of the perfect clubhouse. Let us know on
fountain.fm.
In today's episode, we delved into the evolving perspectives over
time in "The Clubhouse of My Dreams" by Dan Jenkins from Golf
Digest - thanks for tuning in, see you at the next one and don't
forget to subscribe! Be sure to follow us on fountain.fm.