Some people, particularly my young daughters, wish every day was Christmas.

Others, particularly tax-and-spend liberals, wish every day was April 15.

Still others, SEC Banter included, wish every day was a day at the Masters tournament, the greatest sporting event in the world. Just think about a world in which Augusta National Golf Club was in charge. Think about how life would be as a day attending the Masters:

The weather is perfect. Cool mornings, warm afternoons, a few wispy clouds overhead.

Cold draft beer is in abundance. In take-home plastic cups. For just $3 a pop.

No cell phones allowed. Seriously, how good would life be without cell phones!? No texts, emails, voicemails, mindless games, breaking news about Middle East chaos, Twitter, Facebook, etc. If the office wants to reach you, too bad.

Same goes for your spouse.

People are nice. Total strangers are polite to each other, as courteous informality prevails. No shoving, cutting in line or taking someone else’s seat. It’s called good Southern manners. Imagine that?

Pretty girls are everywhere. As if a magical force, with very good taste, selected the prettiest girls in every SEC stadium on a college football Saturday and invited them to the Masters.

Heck, even the guys are dressed well. Of attire, the official Masters website says: “Appropriate clothing and shoes should be worn at all times.”

Imagine how much better our country would look if appropriate clothing and shoes were worn at all times.

No weapons allowed. I customarily dismiss bleeding-heart liberals who trumpet disarmament to achieve world peace. But if we put down our weapons and behaved like patrons at the Masters, the world would certainly be a better place.

World peace through the Masters. Who knew?

No idiots allowed. If you act like an idiot, you’re promptly escorted out of the gates. Boy, would life be nice if all idiots were thrown out!

Nature's beauty abounds. Deep shades of green surround you, accented by pink azaleas and white dogwood flowers.

There are no commercials, billboards or corporate logos.

There is an unlimited supply of pimento cheese sandwiches in green wrappers.

Most of all, there is respect. Respect for others, for the game of golf and for life’s simple pleasures.

Let's recap. If every day was a day at the Masters tournament, we’d have perfect weather, cold beer, no cell phones, Southern manners, pretty girls, appropriate attire, no weapons, no idiots, nature’s beauty, no commercials, pimento cheese sandwiches and respect.

My daughters can have Christmas and Obama can have tax day. I’ll take a day at the Masters.

Ben Prevost is a contributing columnist for The Times.  Follow him on Twitter @SECbanter or contact him at SECbanter@hotmail.com.