Keeping up with the Jones: Hail, hail to the lucky ones

Seth Jones

Since I started doing Zoom interviews, I inadvertently invited all of Golfdom’s readers into my office. Because I work from my home office in rural northeast Kansas, this was never a concern of mine — presenting my home office to the outside world — since the only in-person visitors I get are my wife, my two kids and my mutt Koko.

But now, thanks to Zoom, y’all have a look into my office. Or at least, the bookcase that’s directly behind me. And the item that has drawn the most comments? My copy of Pearl Jam: Twenty, celebrating the band’s 20th anniversary.

Turns out many of you are fellow PJ fans, guys like Mike Brunelle, CGCS at Upper Montclair CC in Clifton, N.J., who told me (to his everlasting regret) he fronted a Pearl Jam cover band in college, and GCSAA CEO Rhett Evans who told me his favorite PJ song is “Wishlist.” Pearl Jam albums, concerts and songs are a common starting point before I click record on the ol’ Zoom.

(Sadly, no one has asked about the Spider-Man memorabilia or even my May 1967 copy of Golfdom.) If you know me, you know that music is one of my passions (along with comic books.) And since many of us have Eddie Vedder, Stone Gossard, Mike McCready, Jeff Ament and Matt Cameron in common … let me tell you what Pearl Jam song summarizes my current working situation.

The song “Hail, Hail,” off their best album — yes, their best — No Code. Part of the lyrics go like this:

Hail, hail to the lucky ones, I refer to those in love,
Ah how I love you till the day I die, and then beyond,
Are we going to the same place? If so, can I come?

In this case, you are the lucky ones. And I’m the one who wants to come along.

When the pandemic started, I’m the one who got left behind. I used to come play in your sandbox, visiting golf courses from coast to coast. My friend Tyler Otero once jokingly called me “America’s guest,” a nickname I can live with.

Then that all got shut down. I’ve been in my home office for 14 straight weeks, guest to no one.

But the lucky ones, superintendents, still get to go to their golf course offices, which they love, every day, as normal. You’re still seeing the natural beauty, still smelling fresh-cut grass. As I do more and more interviews and I ask superintendents what life is like for them, they talk about the outlet of their golf courses … and it makes me realize the mindset of a superintendent must be better than office stiffs with desk jobs like me.

I spoke to Jeff Reich, director of golf course maintenance operations at TPC River Highlands, Cromwell, Conn., just before he and his team were to host the PGA Tour’s Travelers Championship.

“To have somewhere to go to work and be on a golf course … It’s the only thing you can get out for. There’s nothing else you can do!” Reich told me. “You’re not going to restaurants, you’re not going to the mall, you’re not going to family gatherings. Guys were chomping at the bit to get back to work. I don’t think I’ve had one sick call-in or no-show because this is their outlet right now.”

It’s been suggested to me that I create a video and give a guided tour of my home office. I’ve been asked, “Is that a can of Duff Beer, from The Simpsons?” and “Is that an old spinner rack of comic books behind you?” (Yes — much to my wife’s dismay — it is.)

But I’m sick of the home office. I’m ready to come to yours. Hail, hail to you, the lucky ones. Can I come?