May 2004
In Bounds
By Jack MacKenzie, CGCS
Only in the far reaches of my imagination am I a mechanic. Wielding a Snap-On
tool belt and man handling a pneumatic drive impact gun, I traipse around my
fictitious garage tearing apart, repairing and then rebuilding to perfection
anything that runs on fossil fuels. And then I wake up.
My mechanic will attest that since my first winter at North Oaks Golf Club I am
no longer allowed to work on the equipment. During the winter of 1985 I was
self-charged with "fixing" the old Toro Pro 70 tri-plex mower. We had been
experimenting with this unit as a precursor to lightweight fairway mowing, and
it had taken a beating during the summer. According to my method, less plan
parts were removed and strew about "my" shop area. The mound of parts grew until
I felt ready to put my life-size Revel model back together.
Of course in the process I changed out a few nuts and bolts, replaced the
muffler, changed the oil and sharpened the reels. However, when my project was
reassembled I ended up with a left over spring, a rather large spring useful in
the counter balance of the machine when the operator vacated his seat. With the
spring unit in place, the Pro 70 set on all three tires. Without the spring the
rear end popped up off the ground several feet.
I never did figure how to get that spring back on the mower, and Bob wouldn't
fix it. He felt I needed a reminder to "keep out of MY area of expertise." Okay,
okay, I am not a professional mechanic and know where my deficiencies are, and
who to call upon concerning all things mechanical. You see, Bob is the best
mechanic I know of.
It was about a quarter of the way through my 20-year career here at North Oaks
that I decided to take on another project. It was of the personal nature. You
see, I was beginning to think that I was broken and, being a good
superintendent, I could fix myself. Funny how being good in one field makes a
person think they can conquer another with ease.
Although I had been out of college, was married and had two children I still
maintained some of my adolescent mentality. I enjoyed partying and would share
beverages with my staff after work many (most) evenings of the week. Tired of
this behavior and bored with my absence, my former wife ended our marriage.
Somewhat shattered and knowing of the core to my problem, I quit drinking for
several months. All went well for a while. I applied myself to my job and
children. They were the sunshine in my life and I enjoyed my newfound
relationship with them. However, as things tend to go when you have a compulsion
such as mine, old habits returned.
Along with the booze came a live-in girlfriend, her children and the loss of my
sanity. By 1994 I thought that I was going crazy. Totally nuts! My parenthood
skills were beginning to suffer, my relationship with a woman whom I thought I
loved was crashing on the rocks and my thirst was at its all-time high. And
finally my inability to think straight and act "normal" created havoc in every
aspect of my life. I was the one broken and I needed some serious fixing, and
not a tune-up found in a bottle!
Enter my psychologist. The first and second visits went well. She began to know
me and I felt comfortable with telling her everything. On the third occasion of
our acquaintance she suggested I quit drinking for a week, perhaps it would
clear my mind. Simple thought I, the one in charge, the commander of his own
ship, the king of his city the man in control. I lasted two days. However, this
was one dry day longer than I had been in the previous few years.
My fourth session with Nancy was interesting to say the least. Confronted with
my issues, I began the session acknowledging that I drank too much. Of course I
wasn't an alcoholic, but just consumed too much booze (like everyday!). After a
total mind blitz she told me at the end of the meeting that if I indeed wanted
my sanity back I, first had to confront my inability to control my compulsion
and enter a treatment center.
Two weeks later I was sitting in a room surrounded by everyday Joes and Mary's
who were also attempting to regain their mental faculties. On March 6, 1995 I
took my last drink. On April 7, 1995 I graduated, clean and sober, from spin dry
and have never looked back.
In the course of one month I learned the skills I would need to help me give up
my compulsion and thus allow me to become a better father, partner, employee and
employer. I was empowered to make good and healthy decisions. My "live in" was
invited to "move out." 40 pounds slipped off my body in no time. And best of all
I had some control over a compulsion that was making my life insane.
After nine years of sobriety I am still a bit crazy, but I don't wrestle over
issues at night. And I have come to the conclusion that I cannot "fix"
everything all by myself, nor do I need to. When in trouble I humbly seek
professional help. And just having that tool in my box provides me an incredible
amount of comfort.