AUGUSTA, Ga. -- Late Friday night after I left the grounds of Augusta National Golf Club, I went driving around town to try to ascertain a route that might get me here the rest of the weekend without battling Washington Road's grostesque traffic jams.
In the process of failing to achieve that goal, I saw some very nice neighborhoods and some that were downright shabby. There is some serious money in this city, and a serious lack of it elsewhere here.
This isn't some half-baked social commentary, at least I hope not. But it's interesting to me that a private club in a city that is 52 percent black has just two or three black members. (I know, I know, Augusta is 50 percent female and Augusta National has no female members.)
However, the bathroom attendants on the golf course -- yes, the bathrooms of a golf course have attendants! - that I've seen have all been black. The women who serve the sandwiches and soft drinks in the lounge of the media center are all black. Nearly all of the young men who pick up the little debris there is to be found on debris on the club's grounds are almost all black, and look like they're working on prison detail thanks to the bright yellow jump suits they wear with numbers on the back.
I don't know what this means, I'm not condemning anyone for it and blaming The Man. It's just something that strikes you when you're here.
What also strikes you is how many rich folks are gathered in one place. They rent houses here for several thousand dollars a week. They squire clients. They come from all over the world. They fly in and out on private jets, or they drive here in Jaguars and Mercedes.
These are not people I meet in daily life. These are not people who would give me the time of day in daily life.