ONE MAN’S TRASH...

One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Thus goes the maxim. Does that mean everything is relative? Answering that question or debating that topic would require more than this article will allow. So, this piece will steer clear of the concept of moral relativism and focus instead on the issue of attitudional and experiential relativism which will require at least two posts, maybe more. To begin this discussion, I'll tell a story-- no surprise there, huh?!

At the time this story occured, my office was on the PGA Tournament Players Club on the Southwind Golf Course. Fifty feet from the second green of this multi-million dollar golf course, to say my office had a great view is a gross understatement which is crucial for the story about Ralph (not his real name.)

In his mid-30's, Ralph was a blue collar laborer who lived pay check to pay check with his wife and young child. As he entered my office, the first time he came to see me, he walked straight to the twelve-foot ceiling to floor plate glass windows that looked out on the fairway. Standing there staring, he shook his head.

Sensing his awe, I said, “Pretty sight, huh?!” “Wow. This view is amazing!” “You play golf, do you?” I asked. And in a gesture that looked exactly like Barney Fife, he turned to me, pulled at his belt and said, “Yeah I do. I play a little Putt Putt now and then.” And he was totally serious.

What did I say? Nothing! I bit my lip, ducked into my break room, poured a hot cup of coffee, took a swig in hopes the burn would keep me from bursting into an embarrassing belly laugh.

Ater listening to Ralph for a while, I shamefully realized for the umpteenth time in my life that life really is relative. To some of us playing golf on a Tournament Players course and playing Putt Putt are worlds apart, but to this man and multiplied millions, they are totally equal-- just recreation, diversion, and a game.

Thank you Ralph, I needed that to remind that all of us really are just bozos on the same bus.