An Ambiguous Quest

A couple months ago, my wife and I were visited by my mother-in-law and her husband Vinny.

Vinny is unique in many ways, but one characteristic that can quickly be ascertained after a short time spent with him is he values quality.

This isn't to say that he expects everything in his life to be top of the line. He isn't snooty.

But he is a man who wants his dollars well spent. And even more so, a man who expects any work with his name attached to it to be perfect.

A couple years ago, Vinny began to renovate a boat. See said boat (and man) below.

While Vinny was visiting my wife and I, he estimated the boat might be "thousands of man-hours" away from completion.

I, CG, am a man who has been deemed "impatient" by his wife (and probably others). In being true to my own character, I can tell you that such an ambiguous answer seemed like a nightmare.

After all, every task with the boat isn't exactly a linear process. And every day isn't available for work.

Plus, is it 1,000 hours? Or 2,000 hours?

When will it actually be done?!

Hard to say.

That doesn't bother Vinny though. The boat will be done when it's done.

It reminds me of a quote I have heard many times from my own dad while he's in the midst of projects. He will say-

"It'll be nice when it's done. Trust me."

Dad has a knack for offering this comment when things look the absolute furthest from "done" that they can be.

And yet historically, he's been correct in such prophecies.

For Vinny, I suspect the same sentiment applies to the boat as well.

This pursuit of perfection does not jive with the world I have come to know. No, I am more familiar with professional and social atmospheres that place far more value on the marginal costs of time and money than they do perfection. Making something perfect is far less valuable than making something good enough if you can do it with a fraction of the resources. After all, if you can produce a greater quantity of something while doing less, you'll end up better off in the long run. Right?

Well...maybe. But maybe not.

A couple weeks ago, I had the opportunity to visit the World Golf Hall of Fame in Pinehurst, NC. For any golf enthusiast, I think it's fair to say that a stop at this site and a round at Pinehurst is worthy of your golfing Bucket List.

I have since received a haircut.

I don't mean to be overly sentimental- but I couldn't help but feel a spirit of gratitude as I strolled by the lockers in the hall. These men and women set a standard of greatness for everyone who followed them to pursue. They showed us glimpses of perfection in a game that is impossible to perfect. Seeing their faces and reading their stories made for one of my favorite parts of the trip.

On one of the building's walls, there is a quote from one of the greatest golfers of all time, Ben Hogan, that reads-

"There are no shortcuts on the quest for perfection."

To read these words, surrounded by the personally owned artifacts and trophies of the game's legends, you can't help but sense their weight. You realize this isn't just some motivational quote we might scroll by on our phones; this was a mantra that these people accepted and lived by.

And yet, in golf, perfection only exists in the abstract. We have no definition for it because it exists in countless forms. Perfection is constantly changing shape and evading us. As far as we know, you can only get close to it before it runs away.

I wonder if Mr. Hogan realized how profound he was being when he acknowledged the fact that there are no shortcuts on the path to a place you cannot get to anyway.

When I read this quote at the hall of fame, I couldn't help but think about Vinny and my dad. I don't think either of them would be caught boasting about their own "pursuits of perfection", nor have I ever heard either of them try to impart such wisdom onto me. But I have seen how both of them have made the deliberate decision to take the "extra step", even when an opportunity presents itself to skip it. The work they have completed attests to their diligence.

As an impatient person, it's challenging for me to behave the same way.

For much of my adult life, I have attributed my willingness to push things along at an expedited pace to me just being a person with a heightened sense of drive and determination.

But I would be foolish to assume I have any more drive and determination than a single person whose name is enshrined at Pinehurst.

And they weren't taking any shortcuts to get there.