I’m just guessing, using many context clues, that those posted membership rates could be negotiable.
(I used to have a job that was awful for many, many reasons. One of the reasons was the sexist boss, who would take the male employees out golfing on a routine basis. The women? Nope. We never got invited. My work friend and I decided to address the issue by taking golf lessons, talking about it all the time at work, and acting as though we actually liked golf. We thought that might shift the balance a little bit. It did, too, only not quite the way we’d anticipated: she got transferred out of state and I got fired. But anyway, along about that same time, my son and I played at this little course several times. My son is hilarious and so our golf games were…uh…unorthodox. And we had a hell of a good time, more fun that was ever possible if I’d to play with that sexist boss and his enablers. So things worked out.) (Also, right after I got fired from that job – which I didn’t even like – I landed my current job, which is the best job I’ve ever had. So, again, things worked out.)
By the time you see this photo, the building will be gone.
The Patient Spouse was driving me around the other morning and we happened to go by this school building that was in the early stages of demolition (making way for a newer, fancier, bigger facility). The worker approached me and asked if I’d like to look around inside. That was exactly the opposite of what I thought he was going to say, but I did happily accept his offer.
The mud around this abandoned building (a school? a church?) was formidable, and after consideration of the mess that would be involved, I marked further exploration of this place as “come back when it’s dry.” And, as a sort of a consolation prize, I photographed the flowers instead.
I know: a poor substitute for what I was really after. But it was the best I could do that day.
Terry County, Texas
The place was just falling apart. Literally – pieces of the roof and ceiling were drifted across the floor, where the remaining roof joists cast even-spaced shadows. And outside of what used to be a window: a covered wagon. It felt like time folded over onto itself so far that it nearly touched…
Tucumcari, New Mexico