Where the grass grows

If and when all the lush green golf courses in the land dry up and blow up and away during California’s eons-long drought, I won’t shed more than a tear.

I don’t play the game. I have better ways of walking slowly and wasting time — strolling behind an elephant and picking up poop comes to mind. And, as a man of a certain skin tone and menacing features, I find it unwise to walk with a bag full of iron clubs that might, by some over-zealous and paranoid people, be construed as an arsenal of weapons.

The absence of sentimentality stems from my disdain for inefficiency and inequality. I can’t help but drive by the San Diego Country Club’s golf course and wonder how many picnics and naps and games of catch could be held on those acres of grass that sit in the middle of this city like a sea of green tranquility.

If only that space was a public park, what memories could families create there on sparkling spring weekends? How many kids could run their fat fannies ragged rather than sitting on a couch taking selfies and posting on Instagram? (Aw, who am I kidding? Those same kids would just find a shady tree to sit under and use it as a prop for their impromptu photo shoot.)

I’m not singling out the San Diego golf course — public courses too, from the Bonita links to the one in National City — strike me as unfortunate use of land.

Though they are open to the public the reality is that they are not free. While the cost of admission is relatively reasonable — $10 to $38 at Chula Vista — it nevertheless limits who has access to the rolling hills and gentle slopes that are used by men and women trying to smack a ball into a hole.

Even if a family of four could afford the $38/per person fees on the weekend, you can bet barbecuing and bocce ball on the 17th fairway is frowned upon.

Nevertheless, golf courses are not a completely wasteful use of what could otherwise be glorious open space. They provide a useful buffer against encroaching evils.

Where you find a golf course — public or private — you will not find a strip mall, a parking lot or another planned community (unless you travel to the east side of the city and visit Eastlake Greens, where homeowners have the privilege of watching twosomes and foursomes from the comfort of their backyard).

Admittedly, there is a segment of the community that benefits from these tracts of land devoted to golfing. If we’re truly a caring society then we need to provide a place for the middle- and upper-class set to spend weekends away from and off the streets.

But that community service aside, I won’t cry when the last golf course blows away.

Instead I’ll be wondering to what public benefit can we put that land?