Satirist Julia Bensfield Luce is a regular contributor to McSweeney’s and author of her own humor Substack, The Dummiss. Julia, her husband and her friends are the self-proclaimed geniuses behind SkyMall Product Review, one of the stupidest blogs of the mid-Aughts (according to NPR’s Marketplace).
Spring is beautiful in Nashville. The best way to experience it, of course, is from the front seat of my brand-new golf cart. You’ve probably seen me out and about — cruisin’ in the sunshine, spinnin’ my wheels on top of a speed cushion or hollerin’ for help from the bottom of a pothole. I get so many amazing questions and anonymous threats about my golf cart. Allow me to explain why driving my doorless golf cart in a state where driver’s education is (literally) optional just makes sense!
My family owns two cars and one golf cart. The cars are for driving on city streets. The golf cart is also for driving on city streets. It just makes sense.
My golf cart adds to the whimsy of my community, which is neither a golf course nor a Club Med.
Don’t worry. I only drive my golf cart on quiet residential streets that are also used as high-speed cut-throughs for Amazon drivers, commuters, tour buses, carjackers, emergency responders, drag racers and me, in my normal car, when I need to get my kids to school fast.
My golf cart is “street legal,” which means I’m allowed to do whatever I want, especially if it looks cool on Instagram and I can wear a vintage hat instead of a helmet.*
My young children sit in the reverse-facing seats of my golf cart. When they aren’t staring into the Middle Distance, they’re waving at cars. Nobody waves back, because car drivers are busy looking at their phones and forgetting to brake. Once my toddler waved “hi” to a Waymo and the Waymo downloaded her face. Community is everything to me!
When I drive my golf cart, pollen blasts up my nostrils at 25 to 30 mph. It just makes sense.
When I drive my golf cart, I put my infant in my lap. It just makes sense.
When I drive my golf cart, my neighbors flash me a “one-finger peace sign,” which is like a regular peace sign but there’s no pointer finger involved. It doesn’t really make sense to me, but I assume it’s a sign of respect.
On Sundays, the kids and I putter to my local bakery, where — hours earlier — a drunk driver smashed through the front window for the third time in a week. We park on the sidewalk because sourdough is everything to me. Also, I do whatever I want.
When my out-of-town friends see pictures of me in my golf cart and my cool hat, they say, “Wow! You can do whatever you want in Tennessee!” Then they move here and buy all the houses.
Listen, I understand that transportation is super important to the long-term growth of our great city. There are people advocating tirelessly for more public transportation, safer walkways and more bike lanes. Me? I choose golf cart.
I’m actually super progressive. It’s just that I don’t like helmets, buses or being told what to do. It just makes sense!
*With a series of modifications, golf carts are legal as “low-speed vehicles.”
