Report Card

First thing out of the box I must correct a mistake I made in last week’s column. I inadvertently said the Scotch Eggs were from Heidelberg, they were not. They came from the Highlander right here in North Augusta. I am so sorry for the error.
There is a distinct difference in criticisms voiced or written in hopes that eyes and minds will open to the possibility of change and those uttered just to be heard. For the past few weeks it seems that every place I go I hear negatives about North Augusta. Finally, I decided to question these nay sayers. Asking them where they were from, how long they have lived here etc. From my calculations 96% of the people did not live here, were just visiting or were here due to business in the area. The theme was the same; nothing to do, nowhere to go, no where to eat. The good things were the beautiful parks, the landscaping throughout the city, the friendliness of the residents and the fact that Southern Hospitality was alive and well. All and all I think it was a good report card for us. We all know the improvements that have been made and those yet to come. We can be very proud of our accomplishments.
Last week I made it a point to walk up one side of Georgia Avenue and down the other visiting the businesses on both sides. With only one exception everyone was welcoming and friendly. I climbed the stairs to the photography studio admiring the beautiful pictures lining the walls as I went. Visited law offices, insurance companies, the payday loan stores even the recruiting office; everyone, well almost everyone, was nice. The girls in the beauty salon were a hoot; full of energy and laughs. The girls in one of the payday loan establishments had me in stitches as well. I had a purpose for my trip however, my purpose turned out to be secondary to what I learned; we do have a friendly bunch of people here.

Critiques and Strangers

What a great weekend for North Augusta. All the visitors from the Nike Peach Jam swarming all over our city, spending money, lodging across the river, (no tax revenue there), and putting us on the map once again by holding this event at our recreation facility. We supplied security in the form of Public Safety Officers and the local churches volunteered their time and effort to provide food and refreshments. They will be back; this time for the female competitors I think. Lodging across the river but still keeping the country aware that North Augusta exist only as an appendage to Augusta.

August first is not far away and a new restaurant will be opening if all goes as planned. This will be a lunch only facility for a while with seating by reservation only due to limited capacity and, of course, take-out if you call ahead. This will not be your usual fare of fast food. They are resurrecting some old Southern Favorites such as Waldorf Salad, Three Bean Salad, Southern Cobb Salad and an assortment of sandwiches and homemade desserts. In the fall they plan to surprise everyone with other homemade goodies. This is just to whet your appetite, I’ll let you know where and hours of operation next week.

It seems as if every week brings new housing in some form to our area. Duplex apartments, sub-divisions, condos, single-family dwellings and apartment complexes. Where are all the people coming from? In the past two weeks alone I have met people from California who are planning to relocate in our area. I wondered how they heard about us and the standard answer was that they had heard of Aiken, visited there, found it to be not what they were looking for then their real estate person suggested North Augusta as an alternative. Most who have spent a few days here looking at homes or traveling the area, like what they see and like the feel of our city but the one comment out of each and every person is that there is nothing to attract people down town. Therefore, my suggestion to them was to work to change that if they chose to move here.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank my loyal readers. Even those that disagree with me. I want them to know that every word they write in disagreement only serves to keep people talking and more people reading. It would, however, be even better if my detractors could think for themselves rather than resort to quotes from obscure publications, the Good Book excluded, it is not an obscure publication. I have often believed and have been taught that filling a letter or term paper or thesis with quotes only proves that the person doing the writing is too lazy to think for themselves or think that by quoting other people’s hard work somehow makes them superior in intelligence. I really do appreciate all the critiques of my writings; at least I know someone is reading them.

The DAR and The Riverfront Politics

The National Society Daughters of the American Revolution was founded on October 11, 1890, during a time that was marked by a revival in patriotism and intense interest in the beginnings of the United States of America. Women felt the desire to express their patriotic feelings and were frustrated by their exclusion from men's organizations formed to perpetuate the memory of ancestors who fought to make this country free and independent. As a result, a group of pioneering women in the nation's capital formed their own organization and the Daughters of the American Revolution has carried the torch of patriotism ever since.
The objectives laid forth in the first meeting of the DAR have remained the same in over 100 years of active service to the nation. Those objectives are: Historical - to perpetuate the memory and spirit of the men and women who achieved American Independence; Educational - to carry out the injunction of Washington in his farewell address to the American people, "to promote, as an object of primary importance, institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge, thus developing an enlightened public opinion…"; and Patriotic - to cherish, maintain, and extend the institutions of American freedom, to foster true patriotism and love of country, and to aid in securing for mankind all the blessings of liberty.
Since its founding in 1890, DAR has admitted more than 800,000 members and over 25 of those members were in attendance this past week for one of their annual meetings. A guest speaker was also in attendance; Peter Hughes, a gentleman who portrayed the founding father of Hamburg, Henry Schultz. He dressed the part, he spoke the part, he was the part. Everyone seemed to enjoy him.
The members of the DAR are portrayed on some television shows as being moneyed, stuffy arrogant women but if our chapter is any indication, none of that is true. They were all gracious and kind.
There were mixed feelings as I read the front page of last week’s Star. I think it is wonderful that we are “teaming” with Augusta to improve their Riverfront and Downtown area. The first reaction was that if this actually came to pass, the crime rate over there would be greatly reduced therefore insuring that our citizens and our visitors would be relatively safe walking their river front and that maybe our Public Safety Department could relax a little. You may not believe it but if the crime rate in Augusta is not curbed it is only a matter of time before they come over here to wreak havoc on us. The second reaction was, wait, we are already in bed, so-to-speak, with the powers that be in Augusta so the only difference would be we are giving them overt money. Our own Rick Meyer of North Augusta Parks & Recreation and Randy Warrick of USC Aiken sit on the board of the Augusta Sports Council along with Mr. Morris of Morris Communications and the Marriott and Darrly Leech of the Marriott. This in itself seems a conflict of interest since any sports related event coming to our fair city would have the unwritten or written obligation to spend the majority of their money in Augusta not North Augusta so what to we get except a lot of people visiting that may or may not come back?
I am also amazed that we want to give money to a city that one week has to lay off or fire employees because they are near broke, yet a few months later they “find” millions they did not know they had and as in today’s Chronicle, the audit proves the city is solvent. This is all a little dubious to me. If they have so much money they do not need ours and if they are so worried about their riverfront, which coincidentally the Marriott just happens to sit on, then Augusta should improve its own riverfront.

Another Previous Column

Calhoun Park, according to Bob Brooks of Parks and Recreation, is in for a little make-up so-to-speak. Mr. Brooks says the park will have new flower beds by this fall. If this comes to pass, Calhoun Park will be the perfect venue for small attractions for our downtown area. One weekend could be devoted to antique vendors or produce vendors or music in the park or lunch on the lawn; there are numerous uses for the area and with the beautification project on the agenda, it will be even lovelier than it is now. And speaking of beautification projects, I hear we are acquiring yet another financial institution downtown or at the very least, more offices. I heard the landmark Ming Yats has been sold to someone who intends to build another bank. Yes, that is just what we need on “main street“, another bank to draw people to our downtown area. Maybe they will flock from miles away to view it bringing much needed dollars to our city. Or they could visit the ever expanding institutions up the street and increase our tax base in that way. One bright spot may be if the perfect person purchases Sno Cap and restores it to its original sock hop drive-in glory. Or, who knows, it could become another drive thru banking institution.
There are people who would like to form a downtown revitalization task force or downtown association to bring businesses to “main street” that will not only attract outside revenue but draw our citizens downtown to shop. There is so much to do downtown; bank, buy insurance, float checks, pawn titles, buy a little gas, get a good hamburger, visit the drug store, shop the one shop or go to church. Where and what is the attraction? Some people are thinking we need a really good home grown restaurant, home grown shops and things to see and do other than drive out Knox Avenue to see the replica of Washington Road. I love the fact that we have Lowe’s and some of the other stores on Knox. Heck, if we had Sam’s, Bed Bath and Beyond and Home Depot, I’d never have to leave North Augusta which brings me back to the original premise; a downtown revitalization task force. The Knox Avenue mile is great, but downtown draws no one and it should.
With the Buena Vista project in full swing, my neighborhood has seen quite an increase in traffic. Most of the drivers obey the speed limit and traffic signs but there are some who think this is their private raceway. So far as they are concerned there might as well not be a stop sign at the end of Lake or a thirty mile an hour speed limit. Thankfully NADPS is patrolling the area frequently which gives me hope that the future Richard Petty want to be’s will slow down or pay.
June 23rd is rapidly approaching and I am getting more and more excited about our NADPS appreciation day festivities. I am also very, very grateful to all those local businesses who opted to participate in this with us. I also hope that all of Public Safety will make an effort to come by for food, fun and prizes, after all we are doing it for them as a thank you for watching our backs every day of the year.

Bridal Show

There comes a time in everyone’s life that we experience the loss of a loved one. The members of our little family at work had that time this past week. The true test of coming to work with us was acceptance. If the “children” accepted you then you were pretty much in. When I went to work there I was thrilled to be sharing my day with two beautiful and loving Dobermans. Granted, they were outside most of the time and never roamed the house, but seeing them on a daily basis was like having well-behaved children around. Shortly after I joined the team, Rutger was diagnosed with congenital heart failure and although he struggled to stay with us he lost his battle on October 1. He left a huge space in our little family that will be hard pressed to fill. I doubt there was a sweeter, kinder, more gentle Dobbie on the face of the earth than Rutger. We will miss him terribly; all of us, his surviving family: Sage, his son, Larry and Rhonda his parents most of all and the five of us who shared his home and his heart.
Aiken’s Bridal Show was held at Houndslake Country Club this past Sunday. When you think of Aiken you think money. When you think of Houndslake Country Club, you think money. The greens were beautiful, the landscaping lovely but the interior of the building is in disrepair. The staff? I can’t say enough about the staff. Wonderful, friendly, most helpful and always smiling.
There were probably 30 or more vendors attending from Aiken County to Augusta. Tables were set up throughout the area with each displaying their specialties. Caterers, event rentals, photographers, videographers, bakers, wedding planners, bridal wear, hair stylist, fruit carvers, florist, Dillard’s with a display of their most expensive china and Waterford Crystal for gift registry and even a bank was represented just in case you had to borrow money to have the wedding of your dreams. However, with all these vendors displaying their wares the main event was the fashion show. Now remember this was a bridal show. Sho Ane Formal Wear put on the fashion show, first with prom wear, then cocktail dresses then dresses worn in Monte Carlo at casinos, then ballroom dresses and dresses slit up to the waist or cut down to the navel. Beautiful dresses model by beautiful girls all a size 6 or smaller; unreal expectations for normal size women. Meanwhile all the future brides were standing around waiting on bridal wear; gowns, bridesmaid, mother of the bride, and flower girl. After all it was a bridal show. Finally after what seemed like an interminable length of time the teeny tiny models came out in the most beautiful gowns you can imagine. There were oooooos and ahhhhhhhhhs as they paraded around in those lovely dresses and then it was over. A few stragglers remained checking out locations and bakers and caterers nibbling as they went but soon all future brides had departed. It was then, when no one was left but the vendors, that the MC grabbed the microphone and started calling out numbers for the door prizes. Duh, everyone was gone that registered.

Tiger is in Town

Hang onto your hats ladies and gents Tiger Woods came to town to practice at the Augusta National. Wow that is front page news isn’t it? Unfortunately for Tiger the news is not that he came to practice or that he will be playing in the Masters, the news will be a rehash of his transgressions, how he is perceived now that he has been “caught” and some will even think he should be banned from play. How soon we forget. Does anyone remember John Daly? The John Daly who gambled, drank to excess, ate anything that wasn’t tied down and was arrested for spousal abuse. It has not been that long ago and I do not remember all the press jumping on the bandwagon to make such a spectacle out of his crimes as they have of Tiger Woods transgressions. Tiger did what a vast majority of men do; he had an affair(s) and I dare say if it was not for the scandal hungry media it would not have been blown into the proportion it was. In the grand scheme of things beating your wife and playing in major golf venues drunk is far worse than having multiple affairs. Cheating on your spouse is wrong but beating her up is criminal. I do not recall anyone having a problem welcoming Daly with open arms to this tournament so give it a rest where Tiger is concerned. Besides we now have something real to worry about; the circumventing of the Constitution to pass this health care bill and the bill itself. The insurance companies are going to make a fortune in fact the big brokerage houses have been pushing health insurance stock for months knowing this was going to happen. Insurance; is it the next bubble?

Chrysler Corporation and Cats

August 2001 I purchased the first new car I had owned in 20 years. Two things attracted me to the 2002 PT Cruiser; the body style and the fact that this particular Cruiser was painted dark blue, which is a Dallas Cowboy color, with gray interior, which is another Dallas Cowboy color. To personalize the car, since they were all the rage and I wanted to make mine distinctive, I had small Dallas Cowboy stars put on the front fenders under the Cruiser logo and Emmitt Smith put on the hatch lid. The entire time I have owned the car there have been five recalls which necessitates a drive to Dick Smith in Aiken and I have done all but one. I paid the car off early, which I suppose in retrospect was a mistake, because two weeks ago the dash lid cracked from windshield across main air vent to gauges. There are 22,000 miles on the car even though it is five years old. I called Dick Smith, they told me to call Chrysler customer service. I called Chrysler customer service, they were rude and in the end told me to take it to Dick Smith. Once again I called Dick Smith to see if I could make an early appointment in order to be back on time for work. Mr. Cook told me Chrysler didn’t know what they were doing, that the customer service reps were not trained properly and on and on and on. Finally I asked if I could come in one day at 7:30 a.m. and folks, this is what he said. Sure but the camera I need to take pictures of your dash is in the safe and the safe doesn’t get opened until 9:30 a.m., then I must take pictures and send them to Chrysler and it could be months before we get a resolution. I told him that Chrysler said it was up to the dealership to make the decision and he told me they were wrong. Now, I ask you, what am I supposed to do? Chrysler is pushing it off on the dealer, Dick Smith, and Dick Smith is pushing it off on Chrysler, so that leaves me with a relatively new car falling apart from the inside out.
There is a new member of my family. His name, that I have given him, is Hobo. I’m sure he belongs to someone because he is well socialized, sweet as can be and knows what the inside of a house is for; his pleasure. Hobo is mostly white with black half “pants” and a pair of ears that are half black and half white vertically, a black nose and mustache. Hobo showed up at Rosemary Hall last week so of course he came home with me. Did I mention Hobo is a very young cat? In the mornings he runs the length of my house at break neck speed, back and forth, carrying on a conversation with himself. He seems to be familiar with sofas, which is a no-no in my house and my spoiled house cat, Rabbit, watches him run around and I dare say he thinks the new cat is insane. They tend to forget when they were little and crazy. Zipper, who is basically an outside cat and a bit touched in the head, must think Hobo is a monster because every time he sees him he takes off for points unknown. Topaz, who adopted me six years ago, checked Hobo out, sniffed a little and that was that. Topaz is my guard cat. When I work in the yard I tend to focus completely on the task at hand and lose sight of my surroundings. Topaz lays behind me and warns me when someone or something is approaching. Cats are strange creatures that take weeks to trust other cats or new humans and I sometimes think we as humans would be better off being more like cats, so I am not too worried about Hobo’s future with us. I have made an appointment to have him neutered the first week in June, before the spraying starts and after he acclimates to the other “children” he will be relegated to the outside.
Most of my week was spent taking reservations, discussing teas, coffees, weddings and parties; a relatively calm week. We did host a bridal luncheon setting up the formal dining room with formal settings. I’m still amazed that some people have no clue as to which fork to use for what, but then I am of a different generation. We served a lovely organic salad, a sandwich with three layers; homemade deviled ham, cream cheese, olive and nut and a salmon-shrimp spread. The entire loaf was then “iced” with cream cheese and piped decorations then garnished with flat leaf parsley and green olives. The results was a sandwich that appeared to be a wedding loaf cake but was savory. A side of fresh fruit and homemade key lime pie with sweetened whipped cream rounded out the menu. From the compliments we received, I do believe everyone enjoyed their meal.

Common Sense (from an email)

Remarkable Obituary

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend,
Mr. Common Sense.
Mr. Sense had been with us for many years.
No one knows for sure how old
he was since his birth records were long ago
lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated
such value lessons as knowing
when to come in out of the rain,
why the early bird gets the worm and
that life isn't always fair.
Common Sense lived by simple,
sound financial policies
(don't spend more than you earn)
and reliable Parenting strategies
(adults, not kids, are in charge).

His health began to rapidly deteriorate
when well intentioned but
overbearing regulations were set in place.
Reports of a six-year-old
boy charged with sexual harassment
for kissing a classmate;
teens suspended from school for using
mouthwash after lunch;
and a teacher fired for reprimanding an
unruly student,
only worsened his condition.

Mr. Sense declined even further when
schools were required to get parental consent
to administer aspirin to a student;
but, could not inform the parents when a student
became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Finally, Common Sense lost the will to live
as the Ten Commandments became contraband;
churches became businesses;
and criminals received better treatment
than their victims.

Common Sense finally gave up the ghost
after a woman failed to realize that a
steaming cup of coffee was hot,
she spilled a bit in her lap,
and was awarded a huge financial settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust, his wife, Discretion;
his daughter, Responsibility;
and his son, Reason.

He is survived by two stepbrothers;
My Rights and Ima Whiner.
Not many attended his funeral because
so few realized he was gone.

If you still remember him,
pass this on;
if not, join the majority and do nothing.

Freedom of Speech

This column is supposed to be about the happenings in my neighborhood or new developments around town, however, there are times when situations arise that I feel I must address. Now is one of those times.
A few hundred years ago, a few residents of England decided they were tired of being oppressed and tired of the Catholic Church and Parliament ramming beliefs down their throats, and decided to come to America. These were our ancestors. Our ancestors fought to secure our freedoms and thus the United States Constitution was born. Our ancestors also fought in wars to secure our freedoms just as many soldiers are doing today. They, along with our ancestors, are fighting or have fought to protect our Constitution, which guarantees us certain rights and one of those rights as guaranteed under the First Amendment is freedom of speech. “There shall be no law abridging the freedom of speech.” We as a country must believe in the Constitution as evidenced by our involvement in this “war” in Iraq, however, somewhere, somehow, a right that we have is now being abridged. We can not joke, use a phrase, say certain words or perceived innuendos without fear of offending someone or some principal and being taken to task for it.
Witness this latest fiasco with Imus. I would not have even thought to say what he said, as I am sure most of you would not have, but the fact remains he has that right; he has freedom of speech. If Imus is fired, then Rosie must be fired, O’Reilly must be fired, most Rappers must stop rapping, many actors must never act again. McCarthy is dead but some forms of his beliefs are alive and well. Instead of worrying about the Communist, we had certainly better be worrying about anyone who utters a word we do not like. People in this country have the right to voice their opinions no matter how crass they may be. As long as a person voices opinions or speaks without the explicit intention of inciting someone to commit a criminal act, then that person has that right. If someone voices an opinion or makes a joke or unintentionally slams someone and that someone gets his or her feelings hurt, so what? Apologize if you want to, if not, do not. Do not run off to rehab because you uttered a slur; do not worry about being fired if you show your stupidity and make an unkind joke. If being stupid got people fired then many people including our President would be out of work.
People are breaking the law to come to the United States of America because we have guaranteed freedoms. We are not a dictatorship yet. We do, however, let big business and the bottom line rule us and that, my friends, is eroding our rights. This is America where every pain in the - - - has the unfettered right to speak their minds. This is not the America where one group or nationality or party has the right to use undue influence to rid themselves of people they do not agree with just because they can.
Austin Rhodes has no admirer in me. Champ Walker now fancies himself as Augusta’s Al Sharpton by trying to rid the airways of Mr. Rhodes. Mr. Rhodes voiced his opinion. He did not slander anyone, he did not incite anyone to commit a crime, he did what every American has the right to do. Champ Walker does not have to voice an opinion to remove all doubt.
The Circle K on the corner of Clifton and Georgia is going through a remodel. The only thing they are selling at present is gas, lottery tickets and some cigarettes. They tell me the store will be in remodel stage for about 14 days.

Preparing for the Masters

Busy week, hectic week coming up glad things will soon be back to normal. With the influx of visitors to our fair city, it is difficult not to compare people. From your ordinary every day person to real celebrities to those who fancy themselves celebrities, it is amusing to observe their antics. Mannerisms differ, airs differ, and voices differ. Regular folks, those that are just so excited to be here, to finally see the famous Augusta National and watch the famous players, treat us locals with respect. Real celebrities such as an LPGA Hall of Famer treat us locals with respect and rarely tout their accomplishments. Those that perceive themselves to be celebrities because they may have once hob-nobbed with real celebrities or been on the fringes, tend to treat us with not so much respect and love to drop names within ear shot of us plain folk. Those that perceive themselves to be celebrities want us and every one around them to know how important they are while those that are important are just themselves. It is amusing to say the least. Heck, I’m a celebrity; at least two people have recognized me from my picture in the Star.
Imagine, if you will, coming to our fair city for the first time or being in the south for the first time and having seen Gone With the Wind in your youth only to discover that your accommodations look like Tara. Imagine walking into the grand entrance only to see 14 inch crown moldings, intricate woodwork, crystal chandeliers, and wondering if Rhett Butler or Scarlet O’Hara will glide down the staircase to greet you. Imagine returning from a hard day walking the Augusta National just to sit on a verandah sipping iced tea or the beverage of your choice and looking out over beautiful grounds dotted with pink and white dogwoods, azaleas, camellias and a secret garden filled with rose bushes. Imagine gazing down at North Augusta with its quaint shops and picturesque southern charm. Imagine having real southerners greet you upon your arrival or invite you to join them for dinner or have your breakfast ready and waiting for you each morning. Now imagine relaxing like never before and wishing you could be as lucky as we are and make North Augusta your home away from home or your home. I would be willing to bet that more than a few of our visitors will wish that while they are here.
The Farmer’s Almanac warns us not to plant our vegetable gardens before Good Friday. I usually heed that warning but this year the planting bug bit me and planting fever took over. In went the bean seeds, the corn seeds, the squash seeds, the fingerling potatoes and sugar snap peas. They have all given me seedlings and wham, out of the blue, freezing temperatures. I called myself smart by waiting to plant tomatoes and I really did not expect the seeds to sprout so quickly or the seedlings to emerge so soon and I can think of any number of rationales for my impatience, but the fact is I did not heed the almanac and I am starting over again. I dragged the potted tropicals back in with the exception of three which found themselves back in their homes atop the backyard columns; I’m keeping my fingers crossed on those. But I guess in all honesty it would have done no good to wait because the cold crept past Good Friday and sneaked its way to Easter.
All in all it be a good week. Profitable for some, crazy for others but throughout the week I have been most impressed by the way our citizens have handled the stress. I have been witness to unbridled kindness and people going out of their way to be helpful to our visitors as well as our fellow citizens. I have been witness to only one hostile conversation this week and dare I say it was well-deserved. Some people just have no manners no matter how much money they have. What is that old saying? Money can not buy class.

Tasting the Corn

A big thank you to Mrs. Earle for answering my request for Stephen King books. She was generous enough to loan me a couple to read and in the process, I met a really nice person. We spent some length of time conversing about so many things; bridge, Maine, Mr. King. I also met her neighbor and friend who was just as nice and, as it turned out, was from my hometown. She, however, had much fonder memories of the place than I. It was one of the most enjoyable afternoons I have spent in quite a while.
Springing forward a little early this year seems to have panicked quite a few people. After all the urgent emails telling me to download programs to make sure my computer clock knew the change, it turned out that the brain in my computer knew all about it without my help. The VCR’s were not as up to speed but that was a simple fix. Other things were not so easily fixed across the area and nation. Traffic lights had to be reprogrammed, as did many other electronic wonders, leaving me to question if this really did save money? Far be it from me to question those brilliant minds in our nation’s capital. After all, they are the ones who cannot figure out how to stop illegal immigration, find Bin Laden, or keep this country safe without riding rough shod over our rights. They must know what they are doing as no one else seems to question their tactics or their wisdom and seemingly, everyone is going about their apathetic lives as long as it does not involve them. I see this almost everyday as I am an avid reader of the Rants and Raves section of the Chronicle. I read it for the laughs. The misspelled words, the incorrect grammar, yep, here I go again, and the mindless things people pick to complain about all the while hiding behind an email address or code name. No one wants to speak out publicly any more. Everyone wants to have things change as long as they do not have to do anything real to make that change happen. Apathy is alive and well.
And speaking of mindless things to complain about. Bill Adams and I are on the same page when it concerns these new newspapers that end up in our yards or driveways. I’m tired of it, as so it seems, are my neighbors. I’ve noticed a nice little pile beginning to form in the gutters of our streets. When mine arrived on Wednesday they were added to the pile. I have been picking them up and depositing them in the trash but I reason that I did not request them, nor do I want them so why should I be responsible for cleaning up someone else’s mess? As for our citizens who would like them put into their mailboxes it cannot be done unless those doing it wish to break a Federal Law. When you pay for a subscription that comes by mail, that is one thing but if a paper is delivered door to door, it goes either in a paper mailbox or in the yard. No one but the United Postal Employees are supposed to access a mailbox including those restaurant employees that ride the neighborhood dispersing flyers. Speaking of Postal Employees I feel I must defend those people at our post office. With the exception of one person employed there, everyone has been helpful, kind, considerate and efficient. With the exception of that one, they all smile. I find that usually when one is treated badly in a place of business it is because you get what you send.
My friend Marianne was given tickets to a reception in Savannah for Paula Deen. Marianne likes Paula, as do many others, however I have yet to figure out why. When she told me she had the tickets I was afraid she was going to ask me to go with her knowing how much I love to cook. Whew, was I relieved when she did not. She had fun; had her picture taken with Paula, received a free autographed copy of a cook book, tasted food and wine and mingled with other like minded folks who made the trip to see the “chef”, and I use that term loosely, at work. I cannot condemn people for their likes or dislikes nor can they condemn me for mine. The only recipe of hers that turns out consistently time after time is her peach cobbler and that is probably because it contains no mayonnaise, cream cheese or sour cream. Maybe it is a Southern tradition to slather corn in mayo, butter and seasonings; far be it from be to question tradition. Me? I’d much rather taste the corn.

Dress Codes and Generalities

It has been a busy week making the rounds filling out job applications, faxing my resume, filling out online forms, but I have met some nice people in this process. The nice people at Communigraphics, Steve and Barry’s, and Office Depot to name a few. With all the trotting around looking for a job, I have managed so far to gain one interview. I had a bad feeling about it from the get go but decided nothing ventured nothing gained so I trekked over to Deans Bridge Road Wednesday morning. My appointment was for eleven and, so it seems, was everyone else’s. First impression; what a dump. The interview suite, if you can call it that, was in a row of warehouses. Upon entering it jumped out at me that there was no décor, nothing to inform a person what business was being carried on there and holes that seemed to have been punched in the walls from a fit of rage dotted the area. There were 13 others that were scheduled at the same time. Given that I had such a hinky feeling about the whole thing I did not bother to fill out all of the application; no one seemed to notice. As I was waiting my turn to be interviewed my eyes wandered around the room to the group of people gathered there. One thing for sure, mode of dress has changed in the interview world. Instead of professional attire such as a business suit or nice pants and shirt, the dress code seems to be anything goes. One such outfit caught my attention; blue jean Capri pants, a very low cut sequined sleeveless pullover, quilted stained jacket, 3.5 inch sequined heels, open toed, no pedicure, and long lank unwashed hair. One young man came in sporting a baseball cap, worn out jeans, a plaid shirt untucked, sleeves rolled up and dirty. The woman sitting next to me was just as outrageously dressed and I spent the next few minutes mentally shaking my head. After my interview I was still as clueless about the job as when I arrived but left with a promise from the interviewer that I would be getting a phone call between 5 and 7 P.M. tonight.
Yeah right. 7 P.M. came and went and as expected no phone call came. I still have a hinky feeling about the entire thing therefore I’m driving back over there today to retrieve my application.
For the past few days my neighbors and I have awoken to the sound of jack hammers. Nothing like the thud of jack hammers in the morning to get one going. The work was being done on Meridian Avenue, however it sounded and felt as if it was right next door. One of my neighbors, in an effort to drown the noise, has made it worse by raising the volume on the music they play thereby creating an off-beat to the pounding on the pavement. Do not know which is less tolerable, the sound of progress or the sound of “music”.
In our paper and the paper across the river there have been comments lately about the traffic problem generally and speeders specifically. For sometime, people on their way home from work, have bypassed Georgia Avenue in favor of West Avenue thereby turning West into our version of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Speed limit signs do not seem to matter these days; 40 interprets to 60, 30 to 45 and so on. Stop has turned into pause, new cars no longer come with turn signals and driver courtesy is a thing of the past. Used to be folks were afraid to speed over here. Used to be tickets were given out regularly. Used to be crossing the 13th Street Bridge was a signal to slow down when entering our city now it seems to be a signal to hurry up no matter the consequences to other drivers. Most of us are aware of the fact that tickets are rarely given across the river. Regular RMP’s are not allowed to give out traffic tickets over there but it used to be people respected our speed limits out of fear of getting stopped. Used to be.
My deer friend is back. She has decimated my cabbage, broccoli and one tree, leaving me no alternative but to drag out the liquid fence sprayer. It is something I detest doing as the smell is similar to rotten eggs albeit that is not the main ingredient. Even so the smell is preferable to ravaged hydrangeas. She has no fear of me. Early in the mornings she strolls across the backyard quietly picking her way through the woods then repeats the process at dusk. Last night there were gunshots echoing below me and I fear for her life. She is so beautiful and quite honestly I don’t mind her eating some things. It is not her fault that her habitat has been razed.

Souther Language

Soap box time again and this time it is about a plague that is permeating our nation; incorrect grammar. How does one do anything but continue? If you are not continuing you are stopped so where did this use of continue on come from? The same can be said for proceed on or received in; is it possible to receive out? If you ship something it leaves so why shipped out? Can you see what I’m saying? No, not really, I can understand what you are saying but I can not see it. Bring the liquid to a boil and let it reduce down. Personally I have never seen anything reduce up but then maybe I am wrong. It either reduces or it does not. Maybe that is why I can’t lose weight, I figure I’m trying to reduce down when I’m really reducing up. Then there is combined together, if you combine one thing with another it is together, why be redundant? A mirror can reflect an image, your mind can reflect on the past but can you reflect forward? If not then why use reflect back in a sentence? When something is melted it is dissolved or liquefied so there is no need to say melted down. When someone gives birth why do we insist on calling the baby a new baby? Has anyone ever given birth to an old baby? In cooking one could use a roux or a slurry to thicken a soup or a sauce. Why then do the professional chefs use the term thickening up? The use of I or me has changed in the past few years it seems. It used to be I went somewhere or she and I went somewhere not her and me. When you have something you have it, not “I have got it”, that means you have it twice at once. Smelt is a fish not a verb meaning to have smelled. How does one get married off? How do you raise up a child? Why do people insist on using at, at the end of sentences; where is he at? Is and are; is used to be single are used to be plural, has that changed? The school system is probably blamed for this but all you have to do is watch one news show or drama or talk show to know where this incorrect use of grammar comes from. However, I think the school system bears some responsibility as witnessed in college classrooms by the wanton murder of the English language by students that should have learned proper usage before they graduated from high school. Every time one of those phrases falls upon my ears it’s like, you know, like, fingernails on a blackboard.
In answer to the “Don’t Get Me Started” inquiry, they are called paragraphs. Once finished with my review of Davenport’s, I started another subject. I reviewed the article about which you wrote and there is a distinct paragraph separation which I learned was an introduction to a new idea or subject. I thoroughly enjoyed Davenport’s and thought I conveyed those feelings accurately. The greedy people, since you could not tell, were those that circled like vultures after someone’s death hoping to gain from it either monetarily or materially, not those consuming food in the restaurant. If my paragraph structure or introduction to a new subject is at fault, please let me know as it has been a while since English class and please, refer to the first paragraph of this weeks column.

Handicap Parking

For the last month I have made it my mission to cruise parking lots just to see how many of the handicapped spots are actually taken up by handicapped people or those that have the cards but they belong to someone else or those that use the spaces just because they do not want to walk. To my surprise there are a lot of pregnant men in North Augusta or men that are new mothers. Hardly a day went by when I did not see some male person parked in the spot reserved for pregnant or new mothers. I watched them get out of their vehicles just to make sure a medical break through had not taken place without my knowledge or that they did not have a female person with them. On any given day the handicapped spots are filled but not always with persons who need them. Even some that have the tag that hangs in the car get out and literally run into a store. Then the thought crossed my mind that maybe now they were giving them out to mentally challenged people also, you know those that can not see the little blue wheelchair or can not read the sign or those that think none of the rules apply to them. Funny thing is I have one of those hanging permits too. Got it when my mother was living with me, used it only when she was in the car even though there were times in that 103 degree weather that I was tempted but conscience would not let me use it. Wal-Mart parking lot has the worst offenders even with that security guy patrolling the area. The grocery stores run a close second since folks just want to “run” in for one or two things what could it hurt to park there? And speaking of offenders, 95% of the people I watched never took their buggies to the buggy corral even if it was only two cars spaces away. The funniest thing of all and I do not mean funny ha ha I mean ironic funny, is that the older men, women and the actual people who are supposed to park in the handicapped spots are the 5% that return their buggies. Now doesn’t that make you folks that use the spots or abandon your buggies feel just a little bit ashamed?
During my parking lot excursions I went into one of our grocery stores to hopefully find frozen pizza dough for an experiment. After looking all through the frozen food department and having no luck I went to find a person who worked in that department. I asked him if he could show me where it was or if they carried it and he said and I quote, “ you can’t freeze pizza dough.” I was dumbfounded for a moment or two then I took him by the hand walked him up the aisle and pointed to the frozen pizzas all while looking at him quizzically. He did not utter a word, he just walked off.
On Monday there was occasion to visit North Augusta Animal Hospital. There are great folks working in that place. I was greeted warmly by the office person even though she was very busy with the phone that kept interrupting. Dr. Proctor and the assistant could not have been nicer. Thankfully nothing major was wrong with my “child” but if there had been it would have been made easier by their kindness.
For sometime now I have wondered how certain members of our community have been able to walk into a financial institution and secure loans for expensive cars/trucks or to open a business or to purchase a home. Now I know. Certain members of our community as well as all across the United States can borrow money without the requisite Social Security Number that we, as American citizens, must have in order to do anything in this country. In order for the average American citizen to secure a mortgage a financial institution takes months searching their backgrounds while certain people walk in with nothing and get money. Certain members of society may also get college educations for free while tax paying Americans go into debt for years in order to pay for an education. How many of you think this is right?

Greed

When I was eight years old my grandmother died. That is when I got my first glimpse into the greed of families over possessions. It was so awful that I still remember how upset my mother was with her money grubbing sister. Later in life when my great aunt was getting on in years she had the fore thought to have the family come in, those that were to inherit, to choose the items that they wanted or to draw straws if they all chose the same thing. Unfortunately when she died all the preparation was for naught because the same money grubbing sister, who was not included in the will, forced her way into the house and caused yet another scene with her greediness. My mother’s older sister died leaving all of her possessions to friends in her home state of California. They wrote to my mother and her other sister offering to share. My mother told them she would honor the will the way it was written but, you guessed it, the money grubbing sister caused all sorts of trouble but to no avail. She too has since died and I often wonder if her three children fought over her possessions as well. My father died in 1996 leaving equal shares to my mother and to me. My half brother tried to contest the will thinking he should inherit as well never considering that my father had paid for his three children to go to private school and had also provided him with an income. It made me sick then, it makes me sick now when greed takes over after someone dies. Now we have our own local soap operas to follow. The squabbling of the Brown children and the wife/companion and the recent death of Dr. Norwood. The vultures could not even wait until after the funeral to start circling his spot in politics. With Anna Nichol Smith’s death it is even more disgusting on a larger scale. Fighting over a 5 month old child, not for the welfare of the child but for what ever that child may inherit. While I do not believe that someone actually broke into the home and took all that was reported stolen, it would not surprise me to see it show up on Ebay one day soon. Greed is a horrible, horrible thing to witness but having said that I sometimes wonder if that is how people get ahead, being greedy? Is greed disguised as ambition? Is that why most of us who are happy just to pay our bills or have a decent place to live never get ahead? Are we not greedy enough? All I know is that I am glad that I have nothing to fight over and no one that would if I did.

Our Responsibility and Government Intrusion

When did we, as a nation, become dependant on some expert to tell us how to cope with problems, how to raise children, how to date, how to shop, how to deal with relationships or how to dress? It used to be that there were acceptable standards for dress in certain situations. You wore your Sunday best to church, not jeans. If you had jury duty you would dress comfortably but appropriately, not tank tops or raggedy jeans. Although the competition was fierce you still dressed well for school. No one ever wore their pants six inches below their waist or t-shirts with inappropriate writing or dragged their feet when they walked or skirts that left nothing to the imagination or shorts. Everyone obeyed the rules or almost everyone and those that did not were punished or expelled. No one can be punished these days. We all knew if we caused trouble in school we received worst punishments at home than the school metered out.
If someone in one of our classes was in an accident or died, we did not have grief counselors; we had parents. Our parents were involved in our school and our lives to the point of being intrusive but most of us learned to appreciate their meddling. If we misbehaved in public our parents knew before we got home and we were disciplined appropriately. Not today. DFACS gets involved if children are spanked today. Granted some discipline went too far but we grew up better for having had it.
We never had Dr. Phil or Dr. Laura or Oprah to tell us how to live. We never had What Not to Wear to tell us how to dress. We never had match.com to help us find a mate or relationship experts to tell us how to keep our marriages together. We never had those things, yet somehow we managed to become responsible adults unlike the younger generations of today. We had family and friends and neighbors that kept us on the straight and narrow or made us own up to our mistakes or misdeeds. The trend today is to blame someone or something else. The trend today is to never accept responsibility for wrong doings. I wonder, is it lack of discipline, lack of family connections or both?
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Aiken County is considering a ban on all public smoking. While I agree that watching people smoke or being in smoke is not at all pleasant, I do not agree that some government has the right to tell people who smoke where they can smoke in public. Public is the key word here. If a bar or restaurant or place of business does not want smokers it is their right to post signs to that effect but for government to impinge on yet another freedom is against the Constitution and the founding fathers. I am sure the founding fathers never imagined cell phones yet we are subjected to people on their cell phones on a daily basis and no one tells those rude individuals that they can not use them in public. Cell phone use causes auto accidents; smoking does not. People can not even shop without being on a cell phone. Some people can’t even get off the phone long enough to be waited on in a restaurant or check out in a store. It is annoying to be in a public place while someone carries on a conversation right next to you. Most of us are not interested in anyone else’s phone conversations but that doesn’t stop them. If government can ban us from smoking in public why not cell phones and if they do both, other freedoms can not be far behind.

NCHA

The Cutting Horse event in the Civic Center is the one event that I look forward to every year. Even if it is sold out, just riding around checking out the rigs, the real cowboys in tight jeans and the horses whose blood lines go back as far as King P-234 is thrilling. In younger days showing horses was what I lived for. Although I never got into the cutting horses, they were too expensive; it was amazing just to watch them work. This year, however, I was observing more than the horses. As I watched the crowd mill around the question that begged to be answered was, why do people who never sat on a horse feel the need to dress up in “cowboy” clothes? It is easy to spot them. It is easy to tell the difference because they are not comfortable in their outfits and they don’t have that ease about them that real horse people do. You wonder how some of them got into those jeans in the first place and you wonder if some of them do not have mirrors. The men pull it off easier than the women although there are telltale signs. Real cowboy’s hats just sit right on their heads. Most of the time there is a mark on the forehead where the hat has been delineating the place where the sun hit and didn’t. One can just tell by the way they walk, the slow easy way they attend to their horses or sometimes just that weary look in their eyes. Then you see the pretenders, the wanna bees and can’t help but smile. So what does make people think they have to dress the part in order to attend an event? Why can’t they just be who they are and enjoy the spectacular horses and the work they do? Hope all of you who wanted to attend this year got to go, word is the NCHA is getting pretty fed up with the disrepair of the Civic Center and the shoddy way it is run. Seems like Mr. Morris would find or build them a better place to hold the event; say over here in North Augusta where we would appreciate it not take it for granted.
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I would like to take this opportunity to answer the question “what does Augusta have to do with Downtown Developments?” Contrast. The opportunity to point out how fortunate we are. All one has to do is look around our city to see that we are so much better off but the opportunity to point it out just has to be taken. We have, as I have stated numerous times, a city government that works with us and for us. We are not constantly in the news because we bicker or can not get along. We are in the news for our progress, our beauty, our people and for now, our safety. We are no longer that little city across the river people visited just because our bars stayed open later. We are no longer the little city across the river that had a hard time coming up with a name for itself; no one makes fun of us anymore, we have come into our own. We are no longer an appendage as some thought, we are North Augusta the place more people seem to want to be. Instead of traveling to Las Vegas to learn how to run a city, those folks should just come across the river to see how it is done.

If You Won the Lottery

This is something I do not usually do but this time I’m tooting my own horn. Last year on Halloween, I wanted to make a pumpkin cake for everyone at the Red Cross. After searching locally and on line it became obvious that the pan was just too expensive to buy. Ingenuity took over and the cake was a success. Every part was edible from the Zucchini stem to the chocolate covered mint leaves. I was so tickled at how it turned out that I snapped a picture or two of it. Some months later my friend Laura sent me a contest to enter from Quick and Simple. On a whim I sent in the recipe for the pumpkin cake along with the photo. Did not win first prize but I did win a brand new mixer which is still in the box mainly because there are already two Kitchen Aid mixers in my kitchen with no room for another mixer of any kind. If you can not tell, I am very excited about this and have since entered more recipe contest. Who knows, lightening could strike twice.
The yards in my area were teeming with Robins today. They are so welcome in my yard; the more the merrier. The more Robins the fewer Carolina Cherries take hold in my flower beds and the fewer little seedlings are pulled on my hands and knees every year. If only the seeds, bulbs and corms were as prolific as Carolina Cherries. It seems as if every one the Robins miss root and take hold, if not this season then the next. It is a losing battle unless one is diligent. Another hurrah for Mother Nature for sending the Robins on their annual visit. It is also a sign to me that it will not be long before the daffodils are up and blooming with the Peonies not far behind. Every year that a Peony blooms it thrills me no end, then after the Peonies the Hydrangeas begin their annual show before leading us into those days of summer that make me swear every year I’m moving to Oregon but I never make the trip. Winter is my favorite weather but spring renews my spirit and hope.
Having noticed the huge amount in the South Carolina Lottery last week I struck up a conversation with the person next to me in line at the grocery store to ascertain just what people would do with that much money. The first person told me she would throw a huge party in celebration then go on a non-stop shopping spree which would include cars, clothes and jewelry. She was young. My second conversation was with a male of about the same age as the first person who told me in no uncertain terms he would have an unlimited supply of beer. A few days later at the post office I chose middle aged people to speak with. The female told me she would shower her children with gifts then find a decent place to live. I dare say with that kind of money she could find something decent. Next target, male, said he would buy a new truck and quit his job. Later that morning at Wal-Mart I tried again but this time with older more mature people. The female told me she would make sure her children and grandchildren never worried again about money. The male told me he would take his wife on a cruise and leave her there but then he laughed, so I don’t know if he was serious. Me? Besides the obvious of paying myself out of debt, I would buy the young man across the street who is struggling to work and go to school and who every night has to run an electrical cord to his car in hopes that it will start, a new vehicle. Set my mother up in her own space with private in-home care and then look for people to give anonymous gifts to. The main thing I would do is never ever tell a single soul that I won. It would be fun to know what other people think they would do if, by chance, millions of dollars fell into their laps and what, if any, sociological results take place.

The Deterioration of Televised Programs

While out and about a few weeks ago, I overheard a conversation that peaked my curiosity. The two people were discussing the establishment of what they called “little Mexico” on the east end of town. It made me curious but not enough to go take a look until I read the same complaints in the Rants & Raves section of the paper across the river, so this past Sunday I took a ride. There is a Mexican store on the east end of Martintown road. A little bright in color but otherwise not trashy or detracting so I went on down to Metz Drive, the other topic of their conversation, and I have to agree, where is code enforcement? As you turn into Metz from Martintown, there seems to be a car repair shop in the backyard of the corner house on the right. Farther up, most of the yards are filled with junk and trash; a few have done renovations that look very acceptable however, their neighbors certainly detract from the work they have done. At the end of Metz as you are turning right onto Buena Vista just on the left of Buena Vista there seems to be another car repair shop in the back. As hard as North Augusta has worked to improve the entrances to our city you’d think that they would address these issues also. A lot of traffic flows in both directions of Buena Vista. Many people use Metz as a cut through to Buena Vista. It may be worth Code Enforcement’s time to go take a look.
Many of you, I am sure, have favorite television programs you do not want to miss and I was wondering if it irked you as much as it irked me to tune in to find them gone? It seems the networks arbitrarily decide to move certain programs without notifying the viewing public. We must not matter to them at all. Maybe the only thing that matters is the money they get from the sponsors. Take Saturday mornings for instance. For a very long time on HGTV Paul James the Gardener Guy came on at 11:30. All of a sudden he was gone so I went to the computer and looked up the schedule; he had been move to 7:00 a.m. with no notice then all of a sudden he was back at 11:30. It angers me when they do that, especially with programs that teach. A&E used to be informative with Cold Case Files, American Justice and the like, but they decided to jump on the bandwagon of reality shows with Dog: The Bounty Hunter, the life and times of the spoiled Gotti boys and if that were not enough we get to follow Gene Simmons around. First let me say I do not watch these shows but have checked them out. It seems to me following a tattooed, mullet wearing, leather clad ex-con and his trailer park trash clan pursue “bad guys” is an oxymoron. During the one and only time I watched the Gotti Clan all I wanted to do was teach those boys some manners. I must admit Gene Simmons is the best of the lot and he is even amusing, but following him around for a television program just does not compute. The three major networks either have their fingers on the pulse of society or are just too lazy to find good programming. The mindless situation comedies are not funny. They are actually catering to the mentality of a slug; is that what we have become? Almost every one of them has a quick-witted person, a real dumb person and a cast of other superfluous characters that do not have a clue. Mash was funny; Home Improvement was funny; they made you think before you laughed and maybe that is the point, most of America does not think anymore. The original CSI was and is the best. CSI: Miami spends too much time on the posing and posturing of Horatio the all-in-one cop, detective, CSI expert, Medical Examiner and bad actor. There really is no need for most of the rest of the cast because he knows it all. CSI: NY is somewhat better but not much. Too much emphasis on how some of the female characters look than actual police work. Besides that, CSI Miami and NY find clues in outrageous places and perform techniques that I have checked out and know are impossible. Lifting fingerprints from feathers; please. Finding a suspect by seeing his reflection in the pupil of someone’s eye, hardly. As many wonderful crime-fighting tools as there are, these are just not plausible.
As the season progresses we get to watch spoiled brats and their addictions, people who live in filth and a bunch of backward exterminators track down creatures of all makes and models. It’s not just one network. Either they are all owned and operated by the same conglomerate or TLC can’t come up with original programming any longer.

2006-The Death of James Brown

Quite an interesting end to 2006. Former President Gerald Ford dies and rates two minutes on local television. Saddam Hussein was hanged for some of the atrocious crimes he committed and rates a mention in the Chronicle. James Brown dies and Augusta goes overboard. Eight to fifteen minutes a night was spent on the news extolling his virtues, the Chronicle plasters the front pages and sends email alerts at the slightest provocation and Augusta gears up to make a buck. I have heard of wakes where mourners drink beer, celebrate the life of a friend, and loved one but I have never heard of selling popcorn and hotdogs at a public viewing. Just another way to cash in on all the people coming to town. The commissioners are probably chomping at the bit waiting to see just how much money was brought in by this. At least, so far, no one has publicly said that Augusta will benefit monetarily from all of this as they do when anything else comes to town. And, rumor has it that the great Michael Jackson was to in town. Fitting I suppose. James Brown, a convicted felon, being paid respect by an almost convicted child molester. Isn’t having money a wonderful thing?
There is a question that always lingers in my mind when someone dies. Why do people all of a sudden just remember the “good things”? Hardly a mention of drugs, police chases, shooting at officers, wife beatings and so much more, but extolling the virtues of giving away donated turkeys and toys. CNN spent time not only raving about the good Gerald Ford did but all the mishaps and bumblings as well. According to all the local television stations and the Augusta Chronicle James Brown was a saint. In the words of John Stossel, gimme a break.
New Year’s Eve passed with relative quiet in my neck of the woods. One of my neighbors started with the fireworks around 9:30PM and ended right at midnight with quite a show. I enjoyed it immensely, my cats, however, did not. They spent the time hiding or running around trying to find a way to escape it all.
The only resolution for the coming year for me is to divest myself of stuff. I have way too much stuff. At one point in my life the thought of selling antiques crossed my mind, therefore I purchased accordingly. But now it has to go, all of it. From purchased to inherited pieces, from roadside finds to gifts from friends, it is all going and hopefully will make a tidy sum in the process. Never have been a sentimental collector of things only a collector with an eye for future profits; now is the time. I am also toying with the idea of placing the Stephen King collection on the market. My best friend and I started this collection in the late 80’s. He has since died and I see no reason to continue and it may bring someone else joy as well as line my pockets.
Once again Public Safety was in my neighborhood. Five cars at one house. It was the same house that they visited on Christmas day and yet another domestic violence. From my vantage point it seemed to take a few of them to subdue the suspect. The suspect however, gifted all of us with protestations of his innocence along with other words that will not be printed here. Two times in a little over a week; I for one would not like to see him come back to the neighborhood.
One last mention of the James Brown saga. It has begun. The inevitable fighting over who gets what. In my humble opinion, his wife/companion has already spent a fortune with California plastic surgeons. I think the money could have been better spent on acting lessons because she isn’t too convincing in her grief; she can’t even squeeze out a tear.

From a Previous Column

Happy New Year!!! Guess what? Once again it is time to be bombarded with ads for weight loss; lose weight, find a new you. Once again it is time for ads for you to buy something to stop smoking. Stop smoking; find a new you. Take it from me you can not stop smoking and lose weight. If you do lose weight there is not a new you in there just a thinner you. Maybe a little more confident but the same you. Trust me, if some people didn’t like you when you were a little heavy they are not going to like you at all if you are thin. The only real reasons to lose weight are for yourself and for your health just as to stop smoking is for your health, or so they say. Lose weight and all of a sudden all those women who ridiculed you because you were lazy and heavy will be jealous because the men start looking at you. And what is that? The very same person you were is the very same person you are but just because you shed a few pounds those men who never glanced your way are now paying attention. Are men that shallow? Are women that insecure? Every commercial break there will be wonder diet pills, exercise equipment, DVD’s that promote weight loss and firmer bodies, gum to chew to stop the nicotine cravings, the patch for the same reason and every commercial break we feel worse about ourselves. American’s spend countless amounts of money at the dawning of every new year, especially women, to find that inner skinny woman trying to find her way out. It is a battle no doubt, however, just remember when or if that skinny woman emerges she is just you only thinner.
Now that we are working on a thinner us, let’s not forget that we must whiten our teeth to the point that when we enter a room it is the only thing about us others notice. Do not forget to use that deodorant that never ever leaves white marks on the insides of our clothes or the eye drops that keep your eyes from being red when you emerge from the water because no one will look at you if you have red eyes. Or, the hair care products that will make our hair look like Heather Locklear, or the break through make-up that will take ten years off our faces, or the mascara that will lengthen our lashes, or the lipstick that never comes off or whatever else the advertisers deem is necessary to turn one into something someone will want to look at. Makes no sense to me, we are what and who we are and no amount of dieting, paint, designer clothes or whiter teeth will change that. Just be who we grew to be, do not worry about someone else’s opinion of you.
Oh and with the closing of one year and the opening of a new one, we get to find out what Paris Hilton and her ilk have done over the holidays. We will be witness to countless escapades of dimwitted “stars”. Who is getting a divorce, who is running around, who is driving drunk, who is adopting and who is pregnant. We get to witness sports figures acting like sixth graders at recess rolling in the dirt throwing punches. These people seem to be the heroes of our time. The more controversial they are, the bigger than life they appear to be, they are the heroes of our younger generation. What happened to the real heroes? Bill Gates, our soldiers, Johnny Cochran, Jimmy Carter, and all the others who actually did or do something for our society. We have heroes right here at home: Firefighters, Police Officers, EMT’s, volunteers, and individuals who do for others just because.
Start the new year liking who you are. Ignore the antics of the rich and infamous. Live and enjoy the new opportunities awaiting you.

In The Same Boat

As with so many others I too am suffering in these no job sad economic times. Everyday is spent looking for work or trying to come up with a solution to being behind on my mortgage payments. In order to avoid having a foreclosure on my not so spotless record I decided to put my house on the market. Today the papers were signed, the sign went in the yard and the listing went on the Internet. Heartbroken? Yes, but I have done all I can do to find employment as have so many and this was the only logical thing to do. Barring a miracle; winning the lottery which I never remember to play or some relative I forgot I had leaving me enough to get out of the mess the deed is done and ten years of hard work have just gone down the drain.
Starting our catering business is the only bright spot at the moment but we have to get jobs to do before any of it matters. Being in the same boat with others is some consolation but too many more climbing on board and this boat will sink.

Decorating the White House for Christmas

It is not part of their job. In fact, if it had been a weekday I doubt they could have come, but then if had been a weekday I could have made other arrangements. Thanks to Public Safety, especially to PSO’s Britt Sanders and Glen Nichols, my Sunday was saved. For most of the week a slight touch of the flu kept me from going anywhere. Sunday morning rolled around and feeling much better, I decided to go get groceries, but as luck would have it the tire bandits had visited me during the night leaving me with a pancake flat tire. This happens once or twice a year; some bored person thinks it funny to flatten my tires never stopping to consider what would happen if an emergency arose. Usually there is someone I can call but not this year; not on a Sunday and Tires Plus does not make house calls. My only other course of action was to call Public Safety and beg for enough air to get me to the tire place. Also as luck would have it they do not carry air or one of those little emergency generators that plug into the lighter socket so they did they next best thing; they changed my tire. I could not thank them enough for taking the time to do this for me. They were both efficient, pleasant and a credit to the department. Made it to Tire’s Plus without incident where the manager on duty and the young man working could not have been nicer.
First let me qualify what is about to be written. It is not bi-partisan. It is not anti-Republican. It is a waste and a travesty. For the past few years I have watched in disgust HGTV’s special on decorating the White House for Christmas. The opulence, the abundance, the hypocrisy, and the waste just floors me. Yes, there is a need to decorate our nation’s capitol during the season but is there a need to flaunt the fact that our taxes are paying for mouth-blown crystal ornaments by the thousands or clear red glass egg ornaments etched in real gold or hundreds of hand made mirrored ornaments? Is there a need to purchase and prepare the finest cuts of prime beef when so many in our country are in need of a meal? Is there a need to change the decorations on a yearly basis and when they do what happens to the decorations from previous years? Are they kept, thrown away, distributed among the elite, put in a museum or taken home by the sitting President when his term has ended? How many trees were cut down just to make a show? An eighteen foot tree in the grand hall; a tree in every room of the first family’s quarters decorated with hand made cookies from all the pastry chefs in the White House kitchen that you and I pay for. Tree in the Blue Room, trees along the walls, hundreds of feet of fresh garlands with yet more ornaments. Carpenters that we pay for building artificial trees, drums and other decorations. I suppose this has been going on since the time we elected our first President but to see it in all its lavishness is another thing entirely. They spend as if the funds are unlimited when so many have limited funds. Thousands of lights and ornaments, specialty built center pieces, gingerbread houses that weigh 300 pounds, unimaginable amounts of food prepared by chefs we are paying for parties given every day and night during the season and all the while in cities across America some have no food or decorations or presents to open. And how hypocritical is it that debates abound within the states as to the proper terms we are to use during this time of year and the White House seems to be immune? They have a Christmas tree while they are trying to shove a holiday tree down our throats. I wonder, does all that lavish decoration, gourmet food, and endless celebration on our dime cause any guilt at all or do they think they are entitled?

On Thanksgiving and Baking

What a week. Invited my childhood friend from Waynesboro, her daughter and my mother, to my house for Thanksgiving. I do not do the turkey thing; too many dried out birds in my youth that I had to swallow proclaiming how delicious they were, therefore pork roast was my entrée of choice. The roast came out of the freezer on Sunday to thaw in the refrigerator in order for it to be seasoned Wednesday morning allowing the flavors to permeate the meat over-night. It was almost too large for my browning pan and it was heavy but I managed to get all six sides nicely browned to hold in the juices. This is an Emeril recipe that I’ve tweaked over the years. It is easy to do and slow cooks in the oven for four hours until it falls apart, then it has caramelized mushroom and Marsala gravy served over couscous or Risotto or just plain rice; I used couscous. I was also a little adventurous this year making mini Brioche rolls from scratch, traditional squash casserole, balsamic caramelized cippolini onions and individual Tiramisus served in large martini glasses for dessert. My friends had already informed me of their intentions to arrive early stay late and reminisce; therefore I thought an appetizer was in order as well. Needless to say there was too much food but a ton of fun, combined with childhood giggles and wonder as to how we survived the stupid things we did. It was a really good day and something to be grateful for.
Made another discovery the day before Thanksgiving. Overheard some folks talking about the new wine and liquor store so I went to check it out. What a lovely store; clean, organized, a great selection of wine including the hard to get Silver Oak Cabernet. Not one of the wines in the store was rated below an 86 with most rating much higher. From the moment I entered I felt welcomed and relaxed. The owner was extremely nice, taking time to discuss the wines with me and the young man at checkout was so friendly. The prices are good as well, but even if they weren’t just being in the store was a treat. Now there are two places to go for great service and a good atmosphere; Glenn’s and North Augusta Wine and Beverage.
Unlike ninety-nine point nine per cent of the population, I opted to stay in on Black Friday. No crushing crowds or fractious tempers to contend with. No rude shoppers or over-worked tired employees to coddle or even worse thieves trying to relieve me of purchases just because they want them I have them and they would rather steal than buy. Instead I started making my annual goody package for North Augusta Public Safety. I put together what I can that will freeze, then three days before delivery, out it comes to bake. Saves a lot of rushing at the last minute, things are fresh and plenty has been made from the day after Thanksgiving until Christmas. I love the look on their faces when they go through the boxes. Some old standbys that I know they like; lots of new things for them to try; it is so much fun. In between theirs I do all my Christmas baking for my friends that way everything is done and there was no need to venture into the world of Black Friday or any other of the many shopping days left until Christmas.

When the Moral Compass Started to Swing

Years ago, when the Honorable Carl Sanders was opposed by Jimmy Carter for Governor of Georgia Mr. Sanders made a fatal mistake in his campaign. His television ad pictured him sitting on a stool in a long-sleeved white shirt. He then proceeded to roll up his sleeves and the mud slinging began. Jimmy Carter did not participate in the mud slinging thus won handily in that political race. Georgians, at that time, would not tolerate nasty campaigns. Now nasty campaigns are the normal thing to do but some of us are still turned off by candidates that sling mud rather than be honest about what they can and cannot do. It could be that they have no platform therefore, mud slinging is all they can do. I, for one, will be so relieved when voting day has come and gone. The endless commercials, the nastiness and the background digging inundate the airwaves and it is almost impossible to escape it. What if the voters decided they had had enough of the underhanded tactics used for re-election or election and no one showed up at the polls, would it force those running for office to change their tactics?
And speaking of politics do any of you remember when Jimmy Carter said he lusted in his heart? Do you remember the reaction to that statement? Then there was Gary Hart; his antics promptly ended his political career. My how our values have changed. I, for one, did not get to upset when President Clinton was caught having affairs, after all he is just a man. However, we seem to hold higher standards, or at least we did, for those in public office. What happened? Today it seems ok with us if senators proposition aides of the same sex or top officials commit treason or CIA operatives are outed for political gain or retaliation. Then there are your religious leaders who should be above reproach but turn out to be just a fallible as regular folks. The recent expose’ of the religious leader from Colorado is a fine example of these people believing their own press releases. Instead of representing God they think they become God. We, however, seem to take it all in stride. Is it apathy or have our collective moral compasses swung so far that nothing phases us anymore?
Friday morning I paid a visit to the yard sale/flea market on Buena Vista. What a collection of stuff they had. Old tools, porcelains, toys, cookware, mechanical banks and so much more. I especially enjoyed the mystery boxes. For a couple of bucks one may purchase a sealed box filled to the brim with goodies. The majority of it was usable and what was not could be discarded but for two or three dollars it was just so much fun to explore it. I think I’ll go back this next week and I’m even thinking about joining the fun.
The renovations on the corner of Bluff and Meridian are progressing. It won’t be too much longer before it is livable. As soon as I catch them working again an update is in order.

This and That

It has been difficult to come up with anything remotely interesting this week. My heater is still in disrepair therefore I have awakened to a cold house every morning. I have gas logs but am afraid to leave them on over night. This chilly weather, although I love the cold, has not been conducive to exploration. There is a new house going up on the corner of Lake and Pine Grove and the newly landscaped yard on the corner of Lake and Woodlawn has won yard of the month. I’ve often wondered how that works. Who rides around looking for lovely yards and in what areas they ride? Is it subjective to the person that is in charge or are there criteria that must be met? If there is criteria just what is it? A year ago they picked a yard on the corner of Georgia Avenue and Martintown Road that caused quite a stir. The next door neighbors were very upset about the choice and I must say I agreed with the neighbors but otherwise the choices have been right on.
The drug dealer across the street backed a U-haul in the other day and removed his belongings. I’m still amazed that he is walking the streets considering the charges but maybe he is getting his house in order, so-to-speak, just in case he is convicted.
It turns out the altercation that I mentioned last week, the kicking of the door, was a case of almost domestic violence. I have no information on what caused it or the outcome with the police but was amazed to see that young woman welcome her would be abuser back with open arms this week because he brought her flowers. It only gets worse and could easily escalate.
8:45 PM Thursday October 26, the heater is fixed. $305.00 and almost two weeks in the making I have heat.
The Spooky to be Hungry campaign has been all over the news. Here again I wonder who chooses the neighborhoods. Not one person visited our neighborhood to leave a flyer with request for food nor did they come by over the weekend. Maybe it has to be a well-to-do neighborhood before they will make the trip and that too is subjective. It is a good cause. My friend Lynn is very involved in this campaign with the Augusta Red Cross and I do not think they discriminate where neighborhoods are concerned. Her youth group is active in this campaign as well as others and have won numerous awards for their selfless work. Maybe next year the Aiken Chapter will consider every neighborhood just as the post office does with its food drive. Even though the post office sometimes forgets to pick up the offerings they do not slight anyone.
　

The Saga of Me

It still being too hot to go out and pursue a story or do anything in the yard except a rain dance or drag around hoses, I thought I’d continue with the saga of the trials and tribulations of me.
A few weeks back I wrote of trying to sort out different living accommodations for my semi-invalid mother and all the guilt associated with that. As fate would have it the decision was taken out of my hands. Two falls and a T.I.A. in two weeks, two trips to the hospital by ambulance and Public Safety parked in front of my house has revealed the handwriting on the wall. My mother is going into assisted living. We found a place in Burke County, which I thought appropriate, as she was born and raised there and many of her acquaintances still live there which, I find amazing because my mother is 93; how many acquaintances could be left? This decision was not made lightly nor was it made easily but the time has come for help. My mother’s social worker, Amy Hane, has been invaluable in this search and with helping me cope with all the paperwork associated with this move.
Mother’s last trip to the University Hospital was July 29. Today, August 2, we were scheduled for discharge. 7:00 a.m. this morning I am up and ready to roll; bags packed, paperwork in hand. Phone rings. Can’t leave yet we will call you when we are ready. 11:00 a.m. phone rings. Still have paperwork to complete, call you when we are ready. 12:30 P.M. phone rings. We’re experiencing a medical problem, we must wait on the doctor, and we will call you when we are ready. 4:00 P.M., phone rings, sorry she can’t be discharged today, maybe tomorrow. Of course I am a wreck by then; I am not one of those people who wait easily. There is too much to be done to sit around and wait. However, I concluded that if I got up and started doing something around the house as hot as it is, I’d be a mess if I had to leave so I hurried up and waited. And waited and waited and waited.
August 3, 6:30 a.m. I am up and ready again. No phone call by 8:15 so I called the hospital. Once again I’m told she will be discharged today but just when they don’t know. So again I wait.
By now I am so bored and restless that I get on line, go to the freecycle web site, type in an offer for free figs; boom, 5 responses right off the bat. Once again those that want them don’t show up. That’s a habit with most of those members, they want what you offer for free but then they don’t show up. Why I remain a member is a mystery to me.
Ah, at last, discharge is in progress; I’m on my way. Picked my mother up and we head to Waynesboro. Get her all settled in, do paperwork for an hour, go back spend time with her, then on my way home. Right before the county line the cell rings. I have to go back take her to the local hospital for a chest x-ray, take her back to the home, all the while it is registering 108 on the thermometer outside, get her settled again then on my way home. It is now August 4, I’m sad, I feel guilty even though I know all this is for the best so I immerse myself in cleaning and organizing. So goes the continuing saga of me.

I Want to be a G-Man

My father died in 1996 and I have yet to go through everything we packed that belonged to him. Given that the past few weeks having been too hot to work in my garden or to get out and look for things of interest in my neighborhood, I decided now was as good a time as any to tackle the task. It has been an eye-opening and interesting experience. I’ve found WWII medals he received from flying over The Hump in China-Burma-India, the silver wings that I guess went on his flight jacket, commendations and cards from Governor Carl Sanders, gold winged buttons and a plethora of WWII snapshots of my father and his friends. I also ran across a scrapbook that he kept when he attended Georgia Teacher’s College which I now believe is Georgia Southern. In this scrapbook were numerous cards from young ladies declaring undying love which, as one might expect, surprised me. One tends not to think of their father as a ladies man, although my father had his share of affairs while married to my mother. I also discovered his report cards from his time in college and after viewing them wished he was still here so I could point out a thing or two. I remember struggling with math all through high school and college and I also remember his words to me. He told me on more than one occasion that I was just too stupid to grasp it therefore he did not have time to help me. The fact is his math skills were no better than mine so he could not help me and did not want me to know that he didn’t know. I also found funny things in this college scrapbook. His drawings were actually pretty good but his poems were atrocious. I did, however, find a letter that cracked me up. I don’t know if it was written for fun or for a class project, but I found it so funny that I thought I’d share it with you all. I’m typing it just as it was written:
Oct. 21, 1935
U. S. Captain of Police
Washington, D. C.
Dear Cap,
I am dropping you a line for the idea of applying to be a g-man.
I am the chief of police in Tuggsville, course there ain’t no more police but me but if there was I’d still be captain. My family has all been officers of the law. Granpa taken four licker stills in his day. Elmer went to the duty and got a good job as dog catcher. I got a aunt who can lick any two men her size. The Tuggs has skeert all the moonshiners within two wagon wheel greesings around here.
I aint bragging any I way 196 pounds standing on one foot. I wayed thet on pop Kichmans buying scales and they don’t way too much. If you want me youd better get touch with me rite back by return male cause corn country has been after me fer sherref fer two tater-diggings now. Back your male to Budd Tuggs, police in chief, Tuggsville, Ga.
Every time I read this letter I can’t stop laughing. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Assisted Living

Assisted living, elder care, nursing homes, Medicaid approved or not, private care, Medicaid approved or not; how confusing it all is. Logging on to the South Carolina websites for these aforementioned places is perplexing enough but when you realize that most of them are located in either Charleston, Columbia or Greer, it makes deciding which to call even more of a headache. Add to that the guilt associated with making the final decision to place a relative in one of these facilities, you want to throw up your hands and scream.
If you’re not wealthy or other members of your family don’t deem it necessary to fork over some cash, you’re stuck with trying to find a place that is Medicaid approved or a place that will accept the meager income the person has in order to provide care. I thought I had found one such private home. Arrangements had been made for me to call for an appointment to tour the home in Edgefield County therefore when I called I fully expected all to go smoothly. Not so. The proprietors had decided there wasn’t enough money involved for them to accept us. Then I began to wonder just what cost so much money in a private home in order to justify $2000.00 per month. How much food can one person eat? How much water, electricity or gas can one person use? When you consider that Community Long Term Care was going to provide an aide to help with cleaning, bathing etc., it seemed like an outrageous amount until the word greed popped into my head. Two rooms at $2000 per mo; $4000 per mo for one semi-invalid with CLTC and one bed-ridden person with who knows what. Add to that retirement checks and hey, that’s a pretty good living. Maybe I should look into that was my next thought but I am not a greedy person hence that job wouldn’t suit me. Besides, once some people begin acquiring money all they want to do is acquire more.
Phone call after phone call has yielded little results. This experience has taught me that Medicaid beds are very difficult to find, leading me to the conclusion that elder care in this country is too expensive for the middle to low income family. Without Medicaid, prices start in the $4000 per month range and go up. With Medicaid they take the persons income and all assets if any, then the Medicaid picks up the rest of the tab which only means that we are paying for it just in a different way. In addition, what if the person seeking a place is on the cusp of an income that is too little to private pay and too much to get the help of Medicaid? And then there is the problem of re-applying for Medicaid if the facility is in a different state. I had the mistaken belief that Medicaid was a Federal assistance but it is by state. As I said, it’s all so confusing, frustrating and in a way, it makes one feel guilty for not having more money or the tools to cope at home. It is hard to do it alone; it is hard to find help; it is even harder to find a decent place to send them.

Pampered Chef

Thursday, November 9, 2006 was a first for me. I was invited to and attended my very first home sales show. Having never been to one before I had no clue what to expect and since it turned out to be an experience I never want to have again, I am leaving out who the invitation was from, who was in attendance and the name of the hostess. From the way it started I knew I had no business being there. First there were designated “cheerleaders” pom-poms included. Then one of the attendees was given a pair of kitchen shears with instructions to “snip-snip” if any negative vibes were felt or derogatory words were uttered. I suppose this party, like any other designed specifically to sell something, meant the pressure was on and, to be fair, the products introduced were well made but the prices were higher than any comparable kitchen products one may find in Bed Bath and Beyond or on Cooking.com. The hostess gave out tidbits of information that I found to be condescending because the people in attendance were obviously good cooks or they would not be looking for the latest in cookware or gadgets. There were games; I felt like I was six again. The entire theme of the “party” was Jimmy Buffett even though some in attendance had no clue who he was, in fact, one of the guests thought it was a play on words; buffet Buffett. I did not go to purchase; I went for the experience and to have something to write about. I got both and came away with the knowledge that I would never attend one of these things again.
Another theft in my neighborhood occurred last night (11/14). A gentleman was working in one of the houses across the street. The lights were on and the front door was wide open but some intrepid soul calmly walked up to the back of this man’s truck then walked away with a set of golf clubs. This is the fourth theft in six weeks. I am installing motion sensors and lights on my property because of this and I hope whoever this person is, he does not make the mistake of letting me catch him in my yard.
There is a hidden gem in North Augusta. At least it was hidden from me until last week. I stopped in Dre’s Fresh Fish Market just to look around and met two of the nicest people one could ever hope to meet. Mary Baukright, along with her husband and sometimes their daughter, run the place for their son Andre Baukright. Andre also has another job in Augusta at Nice & Neat on Metcalf Street; he is a barber. After perusing the menu for a while and speaking with the Baukrights, I made the decision to go back that night and try the food. I ordered the 15 piece shrimp plate to go, sans slaw, then made the short drive to 721 E. Buena Vista Avenue to pick up my order. The food was right on time and piping hot. The shrimp, fried, turned out to be delicious, fresh, local and cleaned on the spot, as were the fries and hush puppies and more than I could eat. Now I’m hooked and can not wait to go back to try other things on the menu. They not only cook for you if you prefer but you can purchase everything on their menu fresh and raw to prepare yourself. Dre’s is open Thursday thru Saturday, 11:00 a.m. to 8:00 P.M. This hidden gem has been in operation for 4 years and 9 months and I am sorry that I never tried it before now. If you’d like good, fresh seafood and fish, pick up the phone and call the Baukright’s at 202-0903 and place an order. I do not think you will be disappointed.

The More Forward We Go the More Backwards We Get

Of course the South is known for its prejudices; chief among them in the past being those against our minority population. The city across the river has bent so far over to compensate for those failings that the minority in population has become the majority in consideration for all things from jobs to political appointments. This has proved fatal in so many cases. From a Senator who is now spending his years in a 8 X 10 cell instead of his ill gotten mansion on the hill to the city attorney who let her power go to her head thinking no one would ever fire her for fear of a lawsuit. She was right; they didn't fire her they "accepted her resignation" and gave her a very generous severance package to avoid the ACLU and the NAACP from making more of a mockery of that bunch of good old boys.
Now the city across the river has a new problem to face and it isn't the NAACP they are worried about this time. This time they are worried about the Bible thumpers, the ignorant, the ACLU and the homophobes. The gay and lesbian population of the city across the river want to hold a gay pride parade. They obtained signatures from all the departments necessary save one and that one would be the Mayor's office. The gutless wonder would not sign off until he checked with the attorneys trying to give the impression that he was being unbiased and fair when all he succeeded in doing was showing his ignorance of the law. He had no problem signing off on funeral for James Brown that froze downtown for an entire weekend and no problem signing off on any other event the black population wanted to hold but this one scared him to death. The Mayor received emails, voice mails, letters and rants in the paper from ignorant rednecks who think being gay is being a pedophile or any other type of sex offender. From the Bible thumpers who call their lifestyle an abomination and from idiots who think transvestites are dressing up for Halloween. Of Course he had no choice in the matter he had to sign off on it but his consultation with the attorney gave the impression to his redneck constituency that he was trying to find a way to stop it. To those with a bit more intelligence all it did was re enforce their belief that he is a weakling who wants nothing but good press.
The parade and party will happen and it is my hope that the citizens of the city across the river learn something about themselves in the process or at least realize they have nothing to fear from people who live a bit differently than they do. I also hope the rednecks and the Klan stay home and don't cause a scene that puts the South on the national news showing just how far we have not come.

Wandering Cats etc.

Mary Jones’ column in The Star, Wrinkles, struck close to home. From the day I moved to my present location I have been a magnet for cats. I brought three with me and promptly lost two so when the big black cat with the gorgeous topaz eyes showed up one night starving, I fed him. He decided to stay and a couple of weeks later his sister appeared. She too decided to stay. I was lucky with these two because whomever abandoned them had spayed and/or neutered both. Topaz is a delight. He helps me garden, he guards my back and carries on a great conversation. His sister is an entirely different story. When she first arrived I named her but that name soon went by the wayside because she throws temper tantrums. She can be the sweetest most loving thing one minute and the next she is growling and spitting, therefore, I changed her name to T. T. for temper tantrum. One day a huge gray cat showed up on my back deck. He and I had words, he wouldn’t leave, you could not walk over him or he’d growl so we agreed to share the space far, far apart. He’d disappear from time to time and then he’d seem to materialize out of thin air. He stayed for a little over two years. In fact he stayed until we finally made friends and he let me pet him. Two days later he was gone never to be seen again. He also suffered from epilepsy so I fear he has gone somewhere and died. On one occasion it seemed as if every time I walked outside there was a new cat so I too called Mike at animal control. My first catch was an opossum, which Mike promptly removed. My second catch was a little black cat I had named Teensy and I let him take her away. To this day I feel so guilty about doing that and I will never do it again. I’ve found that in the ten years I’ve been here they come and they go. Only two have been permanent rescues but at least the others knew where they could get a meal or two until they were ready to move on and, yes, I believe they spread the word out there in cat world. I think they tell those they pass that if they ever need a meal or some human to be nice to them, there is a house that they should visit.
How many of you out there are members of Freecycle? It was a great concept; give useable things you no longer need to people who do need them. That worked for a while. Then the flea marketers discovered it and the greedy people discovered it and last but not least the irresponsible people discovered it. Most of the people I’ve met through this site have been wonderful people but there are those out there that I would not wish on my worst enemy. What started to happen shortly after its inception was the wanteds far out weighed the offers and if you responded to a wanted it was anyone’s guess if that person would respond or even show up to pick up what they wanted. Same thing began to happen with the offers; you offered, someone responded, made an appointment to pick the object up and never showed, never wrote, never called. Then there were, for the lack of a better word, the liars. You offer, you get a sob story as to why someone wanted or someone posted a wanted which included a sad story and you responded only to find at a later date the only reason they really wanted or responded was to sell it at a flea market. The one I remember most was the offer I made of old cookbooks and fiction. The guy showed up and proceeded to tell me he was a preacher and he was getting these books for his congregation only to see the same books two weeks later at the antique mall. Don’t bother complaining to the moderators they are only concerned about the wording you use in the heading; they could care less about the unsavory characters creeping out of the woodwork fueled by greed. My membership lapsed or either I was kicked off for complaining, either way all I can say is good riddance.
Last but not least a hearty congratulations to the good folks of Augusta for putting aside their differences and the reporting of a slanted media, me included, to elect the person who seems to really want what is best for all citizens.
The newly elected Mayor turned out to have no backbone whatsoever and is only interested in positive press meaning he will not respond to any reporter calling about any negative thing that has happened in his city.