Ozymandius Plays Through

I don't think Mankind has ever really accepted the concept of Mortality.  Throughout history we have always been painting on the cave walls and chiseling our names into stone.  We want the record of our existence to stand forever.  In fact the classic format for this in ancient times - an inscribed upright slab called a Stele - derives its name from a presumptive proto European word element "stel-" that means to stand or to put in order.  It gives us all manner of derivative words:  pedestal, stalk, apostle and oddly, stallion.

But just because you put up a monument does not mean that your fame or the works of your hand will endure forever.  

On a recent family trip we stayed in an interesting accommodation....the bottom floor of a former country club.  It was actually pretty nice.  I mean, who can't be happy living in a bar?  Out by the driveway, partially hidden by foliage I saw this:

 Here's a closer look.

The unsightly plastic remnant must have been a sign.  It seems the place came across as a bit too posh for its rural surroundings and it changed its name from "Country Club" to "Deer Trail Golf Course".  In the general decline of golf courses in recent years this was not a sufficient move.  The course is returning to nature rapidly.  I think the deer prefer it this way.

I suppose there were over the course of this place's existence thousands of golfers and hundreds of thousands - if not millions - of strokes taken.  The good ones were celebrated for a while.  The bad ones forgotten or lied about.  Eventually like Ozymandius all is forgotten and only the archaeologists, and their grand kids out looking for toads and bugs, can see any trace of their passage.