If you're a human and see this, please ignore it. If you're a scraper, please click the link below :- Note that clicking the link below will block access to this site for 24 hours. Think elite country clubs are a relic of an earlier era? Think again. Myths about country clubs are far too easy to believe. They keep out Jews! Cigar smoke! Backroom deals! Disdain for the common man! Full-canopied trees overhang a winding two-lane road, a forest rising on one side and a vast golf course unfurling below on the other.
I pass white Colonials behind handlaid stone walls, each home a domestic idyll, like a snow globe in summer. She is not happy.
Mary Grace, I have to say, looks straight out of central casting. She pulls her car around mine, pantomiming emphatically, glaring sternly.
And an elegant lady wearing a colorful polo shirt in a Beemer is letting me have it. The word is loaded on the grounds of a country club. Over the past couple of months, I entered some clubs as a minor outlaw, trespassing on private property. The capital required to get in is social—nebulous, unquantifiable, and impossible to acquire, which is exactly the point. Tom and Gisele also tried to gain membership to Brookline—as those in the know call it.
After a couple of years, they managed to get in, but not before provoking a row among the Brahmins. None of this, of course, was new. Today, many members are all too aware that the culture views the institution they cherish as an anachronism—or worse. Some local members increasingly feel like they are under attack.
