It occurred to me a few days ago that we are now officially slap-dab in the middle of Dog Days, 2007.
Dog Days, you may know, is that ill-defined period in the middle of summertime when things seem to get… well… a little sluggish. The dictionaries actually use words like hot, muggy, lethargic, sultry, indolence, and stagnation. The dictionaries also say the period earned its name through some connection to Sirius, the Dog Star. I always thought Dog Days just meant it was so hot outside, that folk just laid around all day like dogs.
In modern-America, Dog Days is marked by the lack of news in the news media.
We live in the ultra-information age, when news stories change hourly and are flashed around the globe instantaneously. There are now five entire cable TV networks devoted to bringing us hourly news updates… and its BAD news for them if nothing’s really happening.
But, fact of the matter is, nothing much DOES happen during mid summer. Schools and colleges are out for summer. The state legislatures are not in session. Congress is winding down to their annual summer break. The new fiscal year has started, so all state and local government budgets have been decided, and taxes assessed accordingly. And most of the people who run the public agencies and quasi-public organizations which manufacture what we call news are taking many weeks of vacation time.
In short, nothing’s happening.
I was reminded of this last week when I got a call from a reporter with one of the state’s largest daily newspapers who asked me about the future plans of one of the elected officials I advise. I told the reporter, in effect, “sorry, there are no future plans at this time”. A day later, another reporter from another large daily paper. Again, I told him “no plans”. Interestingly, both newspaper carried my “no future plans” comments as news.
I guess it’s tough being in the “real news” business when there isn’t any news.
Fortunately, I’m not in the “real news” business: I just write this column about whatever happens to be on my mind each week.
Unfortunately, since we’re in the middle of the most sluggish, muggy, lethargic, stagnant time of the year, nothing new came to my mind this week; however, there is something I read on the internet a few months ago I though was good enough to pass along, so I’ll pass it along now. It’s called:
36 Things You Probably Didn’t Know--
"Stewardesses" is the longest word typed with only the left hand and "lollipop" with your right.
Maine is the only state whose name is just one syllable.
No word in the English language rhymes with month, orange, silver, or purple.
"Dreamt" is the only English word that ends in the letters "mt".
Our eyes are always the same size from birth, but our nose and ears never stop growing.
The sentence: "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog" uses every letter of the alphabet.
The words 'racecar,' 'kayak' and 'level' are the same whether they are read left to right or right to left (palindromes).
Only four words in the English language end in "dous": tremendous, horrendous, stupendous, and hazardous.
Two words in the English language have all five vowels in order: "abstemious" and "facetious."
TYPEWRITER is the longest word that can be made using the letters only on one row of the keyboard.
All 50 states are listed across the top of the Lincoln Memorial on the back of the $5 bill.
A dime has 118 ridges around the edge.
A cat has 32 muscles in each ear.
A goldfish has a memory span of three seconds.
A "jiffy" is an actual unit of time for 1/100th of a second.
A shark is the only fish that can blink with both eyes.
A snail can sleep for three years.
Al Capone's business card said he was a used furniture dealer.
Almonds are a member of the peach family.
An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.
Babies are born without kneecaps. They don't appear until the child reaches 2 to 6 years of age.
February 1865 is the only month in recorded history not to have a full moon.
In the last 4,000 years, no new animals have been domesticated.
If the population of China walked past you, 8 abreast, the line would never end because of the rate of reproduction.
If you are an average American, in your whole life, you will spend an average of 6 months waiting at red lights.
Leonardo Da Vinci invented the scissors.
On a Canadian two dollar bill, the flag flying over the Parliament building is an American flag.
Peanuts are one of the ingredients of dynamite!
Rubber bands last longer when refrigerated.
The average person's left hand does 56% of the typing.
The cruise liner, QE2, moves only six inches for each gallon of diesel that it burns.
The microwave was invented after a researcher walked by a radar tube and a chocolate bar melted in his pocket.
The winter of 1932 was so cold that Niagara Falls froze completely solid.
More chickens than people are in the world.
Winston Churchill was born in a ladies' room during a dance.
Women blink nearly twice as much as men.
Actually, I have no idea whether these things are true or not. I just found them on the internet. But they sound true to me. Maybe you can check into them for me. It’ll give you something to do during the rest of Dog Days.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Monday, July 9, 2007
Rolling Down the River
Earlier this year, the business of politics took me to one of my favorite places in the Palmetto State, the coastal town of Beaufort.
Over the years, I’ve spent a fair amount of leisure time in that fair city, usually during their annual Water Festival. The Water Festival, it turns out, brings together two of my favorite things: water and festing.
During my most recent journey to Beaufort, I noticed that preparations were already underway for this year’s H2O Fest, and it brought to mind my most memorable trip to that event – eleven years ago this month – when we made the trip on water skis.
“We” were my younger brother, Shawn, a well-known computer guru now living in Northeast Columbia; my close friend Joe Agnew, the Lake Murray dock-building legend who first brought The Southern Patriot tour boat to the Midlands of SC; and myself – yours truly – an aging, out-of-shape, overweight geezer who could have made a lot of money taking bets on whether or not I could actually water-ski 162 miles in a day.
Actually, this tale began back in 1959, when my dad, Ryan Shealy, was a member of the S.C. House of Representatives from Lexington County. At that time, some of the 1950’s economic development types were discussing whether or not the Congaree River could be made navigable for commercial purposes, allowing Columbia to become an inland port. Dad was a member of the legislative study committee considering the proposal, and he took it upon himself to help demonstrate for certain that the riverways from Charleston to Columbia were in fact navigable: In August, 1959, he made the162-mile river trip from Columbia to Charleston on a pair of skis. Understandably, the wire services picked up the story: Legislator Waterskis 162 Miles.
Fast-forward to the mid-90’s, when his oldest son was on a leisurely, weekend boat trip down the river with friends, when the subject of the decades-old ski-trip came up.
Maybe it was the sun and the heat. Maybe it was the distraction of the river scenery. Possibly someone had even spiked my lemonade. To this day, I don’t know what caused it… but, almost as in an out-of-body, dream-like state, I heard the words “I could do that” come out of my mouth!
And just like that, plans were being made for a water-ski adventure the following year. Never mind the fact that I had not actually water-skiied a single time since a high-school football knee injury 25 years earlier.
In late-March, 1996, I entered the frigid waters of Lake Murray to waterski for the first time in a quarter of a century. Remarkably, I stayed up for almost 5 minutes… and thought I was going to die! I couldn’t breathe at the end, and could hardly move the next day. “Never again,” I said to myself, marveling that I had entertained such a ludicrous idea over the winter months.
But the following week, I tried again, and made it 10 minutes… and then 18 minutes a week later. Before long, summertime had arrived, and I was skiing an hour or two every Saturday morning.
By this time, brother Shawn and Joe Agnew had joined me, and the planned trip had actually become a charity fundraiser for our local Chapin Optimist Club. Shawn and I would take the first leg, from Granby Landing in Cayce to Charleston Harbor, and Joe would ski the following day from Charleston to Beaufort via the Intercoastal Waterway.
At 7:00 am on a Thursday morning in July, we put two boats in the water and headed for the Beaufort Water Festival. Seven-and-a-half hours, 162-miles, five no-wake zones, one gas stop, and a few mishaps later, we made it to Charleston. The next day, Joe skied the rest of the way to Beaufort, while I took it easy in the boat.
Friday afternoon, we pulled into the marina in the middle of the Beaufort Water Festival. They sent a photographer from the local paper to snap a picture. (The Thursday trip – Columbia to Charleston – had actually been documented by Columbia TV station WOLO, which sent two camera crews with us on the trip. Later, the trip would be written up in WaterSki Magazine, a national publication which apparently covers all aspects of the sport, regardless of the blatant lack of athleticism which might be displayed by a participant.)
I guess, once again, it has now been six or eight years since I’ve even had a pair of water skis on. (I DID try snow-skiing for the first time back in 2002, figuring that if I can water-ski 162 miles, certainly I can make it down a hill in the snow. WRONG! On a record-setting cold day in West Virginia, I DEFINITELY made my first and last trip down a hill on snow skis!)
And, though I doubt I’ll be waterskiing down to Beaufort ever again, I do hope to make it to the Water Festival again. And you should, too. For information on the Beaufort Water Festival, visit: bftwaterfestival.com. (You won’t find it on their official schedule, but I recommend just hanging out on the sandbar on Sunday afternoon.)
Over the years, I’ve spent a fair amount of leisure time in that fair city, usually during their annual Water Festival. The Water Festival, it turns out, brings together two of my favorite things: water and festing.
During my most recent journey to Beaufort, I noticed that preparations were already underway for this year’s H2O Fest, and it brought to mind my most memorable trip to that event – eleven years ago this month – when we made the trip on water skis.
“We” were my younger brother, Shawn, a well-known computer guru now living in Northeast Columbia; my close friend Joe Agnew, the Lake Murray dock-building legend who first brought The Southern Patriot tour boat to the Midlands of SC; and myself – yours truly – an aging, out-of-shape, overweight geezer who could have made a lot of money taking bets on whether or not I could actually water-ski 162 miles in a day.
Actually, this tale began back in 1959, when my dad, Ryan Shealy, was a member of the S.C. House of Representatives from Lexington County. At that time, some of the 1950’s economic development types were discussing whether or not the Congaree River could be made navigable for commercial purposes, allowing Columbia to become an inland port. Dad was a member of the legislative study committee considering the proposal, and he took it upon himself to help demonstrate for certain that the riverways from Charleston to Columbia were in fact navigable: In August, 1959, he made the162-mile river trip from Columbia to Charleston on a pair of skis. Understandably, the wire services picked up the story: Legislator Waterskis 162 Miles.
Fast-forward to the mid-90’s, when his oldest son was on a leisurely, weekend boat trip down the river with friends, when the subject of the decades-old ski-trip came up.
Maybe it was the sun and the heat. Maybe it was the distraction of the river scenery. Possibly someone had even spiked my lemonade. To this day, I don’t know what caused it… but, almost as in an out-of-body, dream-like state, I heard the words “I could do that” come out of my mouth!
And just like that, plans were being made for a water-ski adventure the following year. Never mind the fact that I had not actually water-skiied a single time since a high-school football knee injury 25 years earlier.
In late-March, 1996, I entered the frigid waters of Lake Murray to waterski for the first time in a quarter of a century. Remarkably, I stayed up for almost 5 minutes… and thought I was going to die! I couldn’t breathe at the end, and could hardly move the next day. “Never again,” I said to myself, marveling that I had entertained such a ludicrous idea over the winter months.
But the following week, I tried again, and made it 10 minutes… and then 18 minutes a week later. Before long, summertime had arrived, and I was skiing an hour or two every Saturday morning.
By this time, brother Shawn and Joe Agnew had joined me, and the planned trip had actually become a charity fundraiser for our local Chapin Optimist Club. Shawn and I would take the first leg, from Granby Landing in Cayce to Charleston Harbor, and Joe would ski the following day from Charleston to Beaufort via the Intercoastal Waterway.
At 7:00 am on a Thursday morning in July, we put two boats in the water and headed for the Beaufort Water Festival. Seven-and-a-half hours, 162-miles, five no-wake zones, one gas stop, and a few mishaps later, we made it to Charleston. The next day, Joe skied the rest of the way to Beaufort, while I took it easy in the boat.
Friday afternoon, we pulled into the marina in the middle of the Beaufort Water Festival. They sent a photographer from the local paper to snap a picture. (The Thursday trip – Columbia to Charleston – had actually been documented by Columbia TV station WOLO, which sent two camera crews with us on the trip. Later, the trip would be written up in WaterSki Magazine, a national publication which apparently covers all aspects of the sport, regardless of the blatant lack of athleticism which might be displayed by a participant.)
I guess, once again, it has now been six or eight years since I’ve even had a pair of water skis on. (I DID try snow-skiing for the first time back in 2002, figuring that if I can water-ski 162 miles, certainly I can make it down a hill in the snow. WRONG! On a record-setting cold day in West Virginia, I DEFINITELY made my first and last trip down a hill on snow skis!)
And, though I doubt I’ll be waterskiing down to Beaufort ever again, I do hope to make it to the Water Festival again. And you should, too. For information on the Beaufort Water Festival, visit: bftwaterfestival.com. (You won’t find it on their official schedule, but I recommend just hanging out on the sandbar on Sunday afternoon.)
Monday, July 2, 2007
My Friend Jakie
Let me start by mentioning up front that Jake Knotts is a friend of mine. I’ve occasionally assisted him with his political battles over the years, and, I can tell you, in the entire spectrum of South Carolina politics, there is nobody that I would rather have in my foxhole than the Senator from Lexington County.
Still, I recognize that he is a polarizing figure to many. Some love him, some hate him. It goes with the territory.
In politics, we learn that many of our greatest leaders were simultaneously beloved and hated: Those who set out to accomplish great things make “enemies” along the way. Reagan and Kennedy both come to mind. Our system of government allows for opposing views to be a part of the same process. Anytime someone of a particular view succeeds in advancing his cause, you can be sure there are opponents who are unhappy with that success.
So, like every other outspoken elected official, Jake Knotts has his critics. But, love him or hate him, you have to admire his straight-talking, get-it-done attitude when it comes to taking care of “the people”.
Last week, Jake (or “Jakie” as friends still prefer to call him) put that attitude into action. “The people” had a problem, and Jake set out to solve it.
“The people”, in this instance, were the families of our soldiers from the 132nd MP Company, based out of the National Guard Armory on Platt Springs Road in West Columbia. Platt Springs Road happens to run through the heart of Jakie’s Senate District.
That unit had recently been deployed for active duty, and had spent the last few weeks in Mississippi training before being shipped to Iraq. Prior to heading overseas, the fighting men and women were being given a four-day pass… a final chance for R&R before heading into battle. But there was a catch: the four-day pass had a stipulation that allowed the soldiers to travel no farther than 150 miles from the Mississippi base. It was far enough to get them to Atlanta, but not far enough to get them home to their families.
It didn’t seem fair. Their final days before heading into a battle-zone from which some might not return should be an opportunity to be with family, many believed. But it’s the military, and in the military, you follow your orders without asking questions.
Family members, however, can ask all the questions they wish… and in this instance, many of them turned to Senator Jake Knotts. Never mind the obvious dilemma that a State Senator has ZERO impact on the United States Armed Forces.
The people needed an advocate: They called Jakie.
And when Jakie gets a call from a constituent that needs help, he doesn’t rest until he’s done everything possible to get them that help.
In this instance, he started with the office of the South Carolina’s Adjutant General, who leads the Guard in our state, finally reaching General Stan Spears… only to be informed that these Guardsmen were on active duty and now under the jurisdiction of the U.S. Army, not the Guard. Spears was helpless to assist in this instance.
Undeterred, Jakie turned his attention to the Army. Working up the chain of command, he finally determined that these forces were under the command of Lt. General Russell L. Honore, apparently the only person who could remedy the situation. Using his unique powers of persuasion, Knotts located the General Honore in the War Zone. Eventually, after exhausting the power supply of multiple cell-phones, and going through a chain of multiple military phone operators and dispatchers, Knotts found the General.
Understandably impressed with Knotts’ perseverance, the General listened to his plea for help. Fortunately, he agreed that the soldiers’ final days in America should give them a chance to be with family. From the middle of a war-zone, he certainly understood that some of them might never return.
Equally fortunate, Honore shared Knotts’ straight-talking, get-it-done attitude. Known as “The Ragin’ Cajun”, Lousiana-born Honore was once described by CNN as a “John Wayne dude” who “gets some stuff done.”
“Consider it done,” he told Knotts. Within hours, Knotts got a call from another of the U.S. Army’s top generals, Major General Jay Hood, informing him that the orders had been changed, the 4-day pass would now be a 6-day pass, and the soldiers would be allowed to return to South Carolina during that time.
Knotts thanked General Hood, and went to work arranging needed transportation to bring our soldiers home and back.
For Knotts, its all in a days work. Part of his job, he believes, is taking care of the people he was elected to serve. And he’s quick to tell you that the 166 fighting men and women who are risking their lives to protect us are the heroes.
If you’re one of the people who “hate” Jake Knotts, you’re free to go on hating him. For that matter, if you want to “hate” me because I count him as an ally, that’s okay, too.
But, agree or disagree on the other issues of the day, never let it be said that Jakie doesn’t give his best to serve the people who need his help. And on this day, he made a real difference for 166 families who are making a difference for America.
Still, I recognize that he is a polarizing figure to many. Some love him, some hate him. It goes with the territory.
In politics, we learn that many of our greatest leaders were simultaneously beloved and hated: Those who set out to accomplish great things make “enemies” along the way. Reagan and Kennedy both come to mind. Our system of government allows for opposing views to be a part of the same process. Anytime someone of a particular view succeeds in advancing his cause, you can be sure there are opponents who are unhappy with that success.
So, like every other outspoken elected official, Jake Knotts has his critics. But, love him or hate him, you have to admire his straight-talking, get-it-done attitude when it comes to taking care of “the people”.
Last week, Jake (or “Jakie” as friends still prefer to call him) put that attitude into action. “The people” had a problem, and Jake set out to solve it.
“The people”, in this instance, were the families of our soldiers from the 132nd MP Company, based out of the National Guard Armory on Platt Springs Road in West Columbia. Platt Springs Road happens to run through the heart of Jakie’s Senate District.
That unit had recently been deployed for active duty, and had spent the last few weeks in Mississippi training before being shipped to Iraq. Prior to heading overseas, the fighting men and women were being given a four-day pass… a final chance for R&R before heading into battle. But there was a catch: the four-day pass had a stipulation that allowed the soldiers to travel no farther than 150 miles from the Mississippi base. It was far enough to get them to Atlanta, but not far enough to get them home to their families.
It didn’t seem fair. Their final days before heading into a battle-zone from which some might not return should be an opportunity to be with family, many believed. But it’s the military, and in the military, you follow your orders without asking questions.
Family members, however, can ask all the questions they wish… and in this instance, many of them turned to Senator Jake Knotts. Never mind the obvious dilemma that a State Senator has ZERO impact on the United States Armed Forces.
The people needed an advocate: They called Jakie.
And when Jakie gets a call from a constituent that needs help, he doesn’t rest until he’s done everything possible to get them that help.
In this instance, he started with the office of the South Carolina’s Adjutant General, who leads the Guard in our state, finally reaching General Stan Spears… only to be informed that these Guardsmen were on active duty and now under the jurisdiction of the U.S. Army, not the Guard. Spears was helpless to assist in this instance.
Undeterred, Jakie turned his attention to the Army. Working up the chain of command, he finally determined that these forces were under the command of Lt. General Russell L. Honore, apparently the only person who could remedy the situation. Using his unique powers of persuasion, Knotts located the General Honore in the War Zone. Eventually, after exhausting the power supply of multiple cell-phones, and going through a chain of multiple military phone operators and dispatchers, Knotts found the General.
Understandably impressed with Knotts’ perseverance, the General listened to his plea for help. Fortunately, he agreed that the soldiers’ final days in America should give them a chance to be with family. From the middle of a war-zone, he certainly understood that some of them might never return.
Equally fortunate, Honore shared Knotts’ straight-talking, get-it-done attitude. Known as “The Ragin’ Cajun”, Lousiana-born Honore was once described by CNN as a “John Wayne dude” who “gets some stuff done.”
“Consider it done,” he told Knotts. Within hours, Knotts got a call from another of the U.S. Army’s top generals, Major General Jay Hood, informing him that the orders had been changed, the 4-day pass would now be a 6-day pass, and the soldiers would be allowed to return to South Carolina during that time.
Knotts thanked General Hood, and went to work arranging needed transportation to bring our soldiers home and back.
For Knotts, its all in a days work. Part of his job, he believes, is taking care of the people he was elected to serve. And he’s quick to tell you that the 166 fighting men and women who are risking their lives to protect us are the heroes.
If you’re one of the people who “hate” Jake Knotts, you’re free to go on hating him. For that matter, if you want to “hate” me because I count him as an ally, that’s okay, too.
But, agree or disagree on the other issues of the day, never let it be said that Jakie doesn’t give his best to serve the people who need his help. And on this day, he made a real difference for 166 families who are making a difference for America.
Monday, June 25, 2007
The Ideals of America
"When in the course of Human Events…"
So begins the Declaration of Independence, the document which declared the creation of the United States of America, the signing of which on July 4th, 1776, is the date we celebrate as our national holiday of patriotism.
It’s no accident, I think, that our national day of celebration commemorates a document, rather than the end or beginning of any battle or war, or any military victory, or any national incident. To be sure, there are many other dates which will, indeed, live in infamy or be cause for perpetual celebration. But the single day we have chosen to celebrate Americanism is the day the ideas on which our nation was created were signed into effect with a single declaration.
We celebrate words -- not battles, not royal bloodlines, not military might -- because words convey ideas... and America is a nation founded on a set of ideas: freedom, liberty, justice, equality, and opportunity. These ideas, represented by written words, created the foundation on which our way of life has been built.
Because our American Way of Life is built on a set of ideas/ideals, and because I’m pretty sure we ALL take these ideals pretty much for granted on a daily basis – and it would probably be a good thing if we reminded ourselves of them from time to time -- I thought I would commemorate this July 4th by offering a bit of a quiz on some of the Words of Patriotism we have come to cherish.
Below, I’ve listed twelve patriotic phrases. Your job is to identify where each phrase comes from. These correct answers are at the end.
Here we go…
Patriotic Phrase #1: “We the people of the United States….”
Patriotic Phrase #2: “The land of the free, and the home of the brave”.
Patriotic Phrase #3: “WE hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness”
Patriotic Phrase #4: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free….”
Patriotic Phrase #5: “One nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all”.
Patriotic Phrase #6: “Proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof.”
Patriotic Phrase #7: “Crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea”.
Patriotic Phrase #8: “ … no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances”.
Patriotic Phrase #9: “Stand beside her and guide her through the night with the light from above.”
Patriotic Phrase #10: “We mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor”.
Patriotic Phrase #11: “A new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal”.
Patriotic Phrase #12: “Secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity”.
How did you do?
Here are the answers: 1. Preamble of the Constitution; 2. The National Anthem (The Star Spangled Banner); 3. The Declaration of Independence; 4. Inscription of the Statue of Liberty; 5. The Pledge of Allegiance; 6. Inscription of the Liberty Bell (we would also accept Leviticus 25:10); 7. America, the Beautiful; 8. The First Amendment (or The Bill of Rights); 9. God Bless America; 10. The Declaration of Independence, again! 11. Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address; 12. Preamble of the Constitution, again.
Hope you have a safe and happy Independence Day. And as we all celebrate freedom, let’s please keep our fighting men and women in our thoughts and prayers. God Bless America.
So begins the Declaration of Independence, the document which declared the creation of the United States of America, the signing of which on July 4th, 1776, is the date we celebrate as our national holiday of patriotism.
It’s no accident, I think, that our national day of celebration commemorates a document, rather than the end or beginning of any battle or war, or any military victory, or any national incident. To be sure, there are many other dates which will, indeed, live in infamy or be cause for perpetual celebration. But the single day we have chosen to celebrate Americanism is the day the ideas on which our nation was created were signed into effect with a single declaration.
We celebrate words -- not battles, not royal bloodlines, not military might -- because words convey ideas... and America is a nation founded on a set of ideas: freedom, liberty, justice, equality, and opportunity. These ideas, represented by written words, created the foundation on which our way of life has been built.
Because our American Way of Life is built on a set of ideas/ideals, and because I’m pretty sure we ALL take these ideals pretty much for granted on a daily basis – and it would probably be a good thing if we reminded ourselves of them from time to time -- I thought I would commemorate this July 4th by offering a bit of a quiz on some of the Words of Patriotism we have come to cherish.
Below, I’ve listed twelve patriotic phrases. Your job is to identify where each phrase comes from. These correct answers are at the end.
Here we go…
Patriotic Phrase #1: “We the people of the United States….”
Patriotic Phrase #2: “The land of the free, and the home of the brave”.
Patriotic Phrase #3: “WE hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness”
Patriotic Phrase #4: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free….”
Patriotic Phrase #5: “One nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all”.
Patriotic Phrase #6: “Proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof.”
Patriotic Phrase #7: “Crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea”.
Patriotic Phrase #8: “ … no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances”.
Patriotic Phrase #9: “Stand beside her and guide her through the night with the light from above.”
Patriotic Phrase #10: “We mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor”.
Patriotic Phrase #11: “A new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal”.
Patriotic Phrase #12: “Secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity”.
How did you do?
Here are the answers: 1. Preamble of the Constitution; 2. The National Anthem (The Star Spangled Banner); 3. The Declaration of Independence; 4. Inscription of the Statue of Liberty; 5. The Pledge of Allegiance; 6. Inscription of the Liberty Bell (we would also accept Leviticus 25:10); 7. America, the Beautiful; 8. The First Amendment (or The Bill of Rights); 9. God Bless America; 10. The Declaration of Independence, again! 11. Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address; 12. Preamble of the Constitution, again.
Hope you have a safe and happy Independence Day. And as we all celebrate freedom, let’s please keep our fighting men and women in our thoughts and prayers. God Bless America.
Monday, June 18, 2007
The Big Season Finale
Some weeks, it seems, I simply don’t have enough time to write my little column for the newspaper.
Unfortunately, this is one of those weeks.
And even more unfortunately… I’m writing it anyway. YIKES!
If this were a weekly TV show – instead of a weekly newspaper column – we would be in the middle of “Summer Re-runs”, and it wouldn’t really be a problem.
But also, if this were weekly TV show, a few weeks ago we would have aired our Big Season Finale… a really big, exciting, dramatic, top-quality, climatic wrap-up weekly column to end the season… the culmination of all the weekly columns so far.
And, CLEARLY, that didn’t happen here!
Still, the idea that I could take a few months off and just re-use “summer re-runs” until September is appealing to me.
In addition to my failure to publish a “Big Season Finale”, there are several other problems with that plan.
First problem: There were columns about Super Bowl, Easter, Valentine’s Day, and Mother’s Day, none of which will make much sense in August.
Second problem: There’s the annual celebration of Elvis in August. If I’m using re-runs from the winter and spring, I’ll completely miss my opportunity to write anything about The King. That seems a little un-American.
Third problem: Most of my January/February columns detailed my annual New Year’s Resolution Weight Loss Competition in which I, along with six or eight others, tried to shed the most poundage in am eight-week time period. If I re-run those columns, and people see me in my current hippo-pig-whale-like state, they’ll think I was fibbing in February… which is not true… I’ve merely been eating non-stop since the end of the contest. (Perhaps it’s time for a summertime weight-loss competition… any takers?)
Fourth, and perhaps most thorny, is this: I just re-read through all the columns I’ve written so far this year – all of them – and I realized that most of them shouldn’t have been published to start with. I have no writing talent whatsoever. I should immediately cease and desist from any attempts at anything resembling journalism whatsoever. I should not be allowed to own a laptop, or for that matter, an ink pen. They should take away all my tablets of paper, my writing instruments, and put me as far away from a desk as possible. I should get a job driving a truck, or roofing houses, or making sandwiches. But NOT writing column for the newspaper. I have no talent.
Or do I?!!!
Maybe I do, and I just think I don’t. And I’m just conflicted!!!
Do I or don’t I? That’s the kind of conflict that Big Season Finales are made of. Keep the audience guessing. What’s going to happen? It’s a cliffhanger. Nobody knows for sure.
So there you have it, folks. The Big Season Finale! I’ll see you in September.
Or will I?
--------------------------
You’re always welcome to let me know you agree, disagree, can’t make sense of, or simply don’t care about anything I’ve written here… or about any other topic that happens to be on your mind. You can email me directly at: RodShealy@aol.com.
And, if reading it once just wasn’t enough for you, read it again online – along with previous columns -- at my new blog: www.doingthefirst.blogspot.com
Unfortunately, this is one of those weeks.
And even more unfortunately… I’m writing it anyway. YIKES!
If this were a weekly TV show – instead of a weekly newspaper column – we would be in the middle of “Summer Re-runs”, and it wouldn’t really be a problem.
But also, if this were weekly TV show, a few weeks ago we would have aired our Big Season Finale… a really big, exciting, dramatic, top-quality, climatic wrap-up weekly column to end the season… the culmination of all the weekly columns so far.
And, CLEARLY, that didn’t happen here!
Still, the idea that I could take a few months off and just re-use “summer re-runs” until September is appealing to me.
In addition to my failure to publish a “Big Season Finale”, there are several other problems with that plan.
First problem: There were columns about Super Bowl, Easter, Valentine’s Day, and Mother’s Day, none of which will make much sense in August.
Second problem: There’s the annual celebration of Elvis in August. If I’m using re-runs from the winter and spring, I’ll completely miss my opportunity to write anything about The King. That seems a little un-American.
Third problem: Most of my January/February columns detailed my annual New Year’s Resolution Weight Loss Competition in which I, along with six or eight others, tried to shed the most poundage in am eight-week time period. If I re-run those columns, and people see me in my current hippo-pig-whale-like state, they’ll think I was fibbing in February… which is not true… I’ve merely been eating non-stop since the end of the contest. (Perhaps it’s time for a summertime weight-loss competition… any takers?)
Fourth, and perhaps most thorny, is this: I just re-read through all the columns I’ve written so far this year – all of them – and I realized that most of them shouldn’t have been published to start with. I have no writing talent whatsoever. I should immediately cease and desist from any attempts at anything resembling journalism whatsoever. I should not be allowed to own a laptop, or for that matter, an ink pen. They should take away all my tablets of paper, my writing instruments, and put me as far away from a desk as possible. I should get a job driving a truck, or roofing houses, or making sandwiches. But NOT writing column for the newspaper. I have no talent.
Or do I?!!!
Maybe I do, and I just think I don’t. And I’m just conflicted!!!
Do I or don’t I? That’s the kind of conflict that Big Season Finales are made of. Keep the audience guessing. What’s going to happen? It’s a cliffhanger. Nobody knows for sure.
So there you have it, folks. The Big Season Finale! I’ll see you in September.
Or will I?
--------------------------
You’re always welcome to let me know you agree, disagree, can’t make sense of, or simply don’t care about anything I’ve written here… or about any other topic that happens to be on your mind. You can email me directly at: RodShealy@aol.com.
And, if reading it once just wasn’t enough for you, read it again online – along with previous columns -- at my new blog: www.doingthefirst.blogspot.com
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Rob DeBoer, All American
For a few years back in the early 1990’s, Rob DeBoer delighted USC Gamecock fans each Saturday as our gung-ho, get-up-and-go, give-it-all-you’ve-got fullback.
Rob was not your average ball player. He gave it his all, every week, every game, every play. He played the game with enthusiasm. He exemplified the spirit of teamwork and athletic competition.
A prototypical clean-cut Midwesterner, Rob came to Carolina from Nebraska, lured by the chance to play both football and baseball. Indeed, each spring he was a stand-out on the baseball diamond, just as he was on the gridiron each fall.
I didn’t know Rob back then, but I had the opportunity to get to know him in 2004, when we were working together on a community improvement project. Since that time, we’ve worked together on a few projects, and I’ve come to respect him as a hard worker, a dedicated family man, and a genuinely nice guy… AND … a true-believer in the American free-enterprise system (so much so that I’ve suggested to him more than once that he could be a refreshing voice if he were to ever run for public office.)
Shortly after getting to know him, I heard him expounding on his belief in free enterprise. He unabashedly told of his plan to work tirelessly to meet his goal of becoming a millionaire. He wasn’t shy about it, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. He was excited about: energetic and enthusiastic. Rob approaches his work the same way he approached his football career: with zeal. As a fullback, he put his head down, and ran as hard as he could straight ahead… exactly the way the game was meant to be played. And in pursing his career and financial goals, he’s exactly the same. He does it the right way and gives it his very best.
So when I read in The State paper this weekend that Rob was being taken to court by an agency of the federal government, I immediately knew that something was badly amiss.
Not with Rob. With the federal government.
When tax dollars are being used to hassle, harass and persecute an individual who is doing nothing more than working hard to realize the American Dream, something is badly amiss.
And make no mistake… that’s exactly what’s going on here.
A couple of years ago, Rob came across a business which combined two very prevalent marketing trends: online marketing and network marketing. It’s a company called “BurnLounge”, which allows you to purchase music online, and if you wish, make a profit by giving others the opportunity to do so.
I’m familiar with the company, because I signed up a couple of years ago – having been introduced to the concept by another friend -- and I’ve purchased some online music. I never made an attempt to make a profit from the company, because frankly, I’m too old and worn out to have the kind of energetic and enthusiastic money-making zeal Rob has. But... I certainly respect those who DO have that zeal, because that’s what makes America great.
When I was introduced to BurnLounge, I marveled that someone had been clever enough to merge network marketing – the sales approach made famous years ago by Amway – with an online product. This, I thought to myself, is the beginning of a new wave of commerce.
This weekend, however, I read that the company, along with one of their brightest stars, Rob DeBoer, has been taken to court by the Federal Trade Commission (FTC).
After half a century of Amway, Shaklee, Excel, Herbalife, and a host of other vitamin, cleaning, art, and houseware product sales, the FTC has apparently just decided that this style of marketing represents a pyramid scheme.
So the FTC, wearing its “consumer protection” hat, decided to protect us from the people who were clever enough to find a new, high-tech way to buy music, and make a profit while doing so.
Does it seem odd that, while the federal government can’t keep our borders secure, can’t seem to do anything with the millions who are here illegally, and can’t stop them from earning American dollars illegally, it CAN go to court to stop a Nebraska-born go-getter from selling music via the internet?
If I were not so old and cynical, I would probably chalk it up to just another case of bureaucratic incompetence. But I AM old and cynical: In my mind, FTC really stands for “Fatten The Corporations”. And I’ll bet my Hawaiian Shirt collection that this FTC action didn’t happen in a vacuum. Somewhere out there, there’s a giant music or entertainment corporation, or some other media giant or conglomerate, which wanted to see these young upstarts at BurnLounge stopped.
And the shame of it is that Rob DeBoer, the All-American Good Guy, gets negative headlines in the daily paper for nothing more than doing his best and trying his hardest to be successful.
We’ll be keeping you posted with the rest of the story.
Rob was not your average ball player. He gave it his all, every week, every game, every play. He played the game with enthusiasm. He exemplified the spirit of teamwork and athletic competition.
A prototypical clean-cut Midwesterner, Rob came to Carolina from Nebraska, lured by the chance to play both football and baseball. Indeed, each spring he was a stand-out on the baseball diamond, just as he was on the gridiron each fall.
I didn’t know Rob back then, but I had the opportunity to get to know him in 2004, when we were working together on a community improvement project. Since that time, we’ve worked together on a few projects, and I’ve come to respect him as a hard worker, a dedicated family man, and a genuinely nice guy… AND … a true-believer in the American free-enterprise system (so much so that I’ve suggested to him more than once that he could be a refreshing voice if he were to ever run for public office.)
Shortly after getting to know him, I heard him expounding on his belief in free enterprise. He unabashedly told of his plan to work tirelessly to meet his goal of becoming a millionaire. He wasn’t shy about it, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. He was excited about: energetic and enthusiastic. Rob approaches his work the same way he approached his football career: with zeal. As a fullback, he put his head down, and ran as hard as he could straight ahead… exactly the way the game was meant to be played. And in pursing his career and financial goals, he’s exactly the same. He does it the right way and gives it his very best.
So when I read in The State paper this weekend that Rob was being taken to court by an agency of the federal government, I immediately knew that something was badly amiss.
Not with Rob. With the federal government.
When tax dollars are being used to hassle, harass and persecute an individual who is doing nothing more than working hard to realize the American Dream, something is badly amiss.
And make no mistake… that’s exactly what’s going on here.
A couple of years ago, Rob came across a business which combined two very prevalent marketing trends: online marketing and network marketing. It’s a company called “BurnLounge”, which allows you to purchase music online, and if you wish, make a profit by giving others the opportunity to do so.
I’m familiar with the company, because I signed up a couple of years ago – having been introduced to the concept by another friend -- and I’ve purchased some online music. I never made an attempt to make a profit from the company, because frankly, I’m too old and worn out to have the kind of energetic and enthusiastic money-making zeal Rob has. But... I certainly respect those who DO have that zeal, because that’s what makes America great.
When I was introduced to BurnLounge, I marveled that someone had been clever enough to merge network marketing – the sales approach made famous years ago by Amway – with an online product. This, I thought to myself, is the beginning of a new wave of commerce.
This weekend, however, I read that the company, along with one of their brightest stars, Rob DeBoer, has been taken to court by the Federal Trade Commission (FTC).
After half a century of Amway, Shaklee, Excel, Herbalife, and a host of other vitamin, cleaning, art, and houseware product sales, the FTC has apparently just decided that this style of marketing represents a pyramid scheme.
So the FTC, wearing its “consumer protection” hat, decided to protect us from the people who were clever enough to find a new, high-tech way to buy music, and make a profit while doing so.
Does it seem odd that, while the federal government can’t keep our borders secure, can’t seem to do anything with the millions who are here illegally, and can’t stop them from earning American dollars illegally, it CAN go to court to stop a Nebraska-born go-getter from selling music via the internet?
If I were not so old and cynical, I would probably chalk it up to just another case of bureaucratic incompetence. But I AM old and cynical: In my mind, FTC really stands for “Fatten The Corporations”. And I’ll bet my Hawaiian Shirt collection that this FTC action didn’t happen in a vacuum. Somewhere out there, there’s a giant music or entertainment corporation, or some other media giant or conglomerate, which wanted to see these young upstarts at BurnLounge stopped.
And the shame of it is that Rob DeBoer, the All-American Good Guy, gets negative headlines in the daily paper for nothing more than doing his best and trying his hardest to be successful.
We’ll be keeping you posted with the rest of the story.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Once in a Blue Moon
Once in a Blue Moon, I try to include some actually useful information in this column. This is one of those times… depending, of course, on what your definition of “useful” is.
Last month, you may know, we observed a Blue Moon. “Blue Moon” is the term given to a second full moon which occurs in any calendar month. It doesn’t happen very often. On average, there is a Blue Moon every 2.7 years… a little more frequently than we hold presidential elections. During any 100 years, there will be approximately 40 Blue Moons. Hence, the phrase “once in a blue moon”.
I hope you found this information useful. The rest of this column will NOT attempt to include any particularly useful information.
As it turns out, when I was looking at the calendar trying to figure out the Blue Moon thing, it occurred to me that summertime is really here… and my mind started to wander. (You will note that I said “summertime is here”, not “summer is here”. In my mind, there’s a difference: “Summertime”, to me, is the period between Memorial Day and Labor Day, and “summer” is the period between the summer solstice – typically June 21 – and the autumnal equinox – about September 21.)
Anyway, realizing that summertime is here, my mind wandered back to the time when summertime was really important: back when I was a kid!
It was a simpler time, and those glorious months of June, July and August were what made life worth living!
I’m sure you’ve got your own summertime memories from your youth… and I’ll bet if I tell you some of mine, it will jumpstart yours….
Barefoot. All summer long. At the end of the day, my feet were dirty, because they had been in the dirt all day long. (But be careful walking on asphalt. Hot!)
Riding my bike. Everywhere. I used clothes-pins to attach pieces of cardboard to the bike, so the spokes would make a sound like an engine. There was a backseat to give someone a lift, and a basket to tote stuff in… occasionally even a small person or a pet.
Going swimming. Virtually every summer day would find me at the lake. I lived five miles away from Lake Murray, so my buddies and I would hop on our bikes and pedal up and down hills in the middle of the day to reach our swimming spot. Some days, Dad would take us again after work.
Walking to the store to get a Pepsi. It was hot, and a bottle of Pepsi was cold and wet. Buying a soft drink was an extravagance back then. It was before the days of canned drinks in the refrigerator at home, and before there were coin-operated drink boxes on every corner. But you could hike to the nearest store, and for a dime, get a Pepsi, Coke, RC, Nehi, or Dr. Pepper. They were in reusable glass bottles, and the Cokes came in a small size, too. And the best part was this: When you returned your bottle, you got a two-cent deposit back. That means, if I didn’t have a dime – which I frequently didn’t – you could simply collect five bottles and turn them in for a dime, then use the dime to pay for your Pepsi!
Staying a month at a time at Grandma’s house. She lived out in the country… it was great. We’d play Rummy and Setback in the morning, and various aunts, uncles, or cousins usually came by in the afternoon.
Baseball every day. All the guys in the neighborhood would bring their bats and
gloves to the nearest field. It wasn’t exactly sand-lot baseball, because there wasn’t any sand…. It was a field full of weeds that we would beat down, or cut with a sling-blade. We’d choose up sides, and make the rules as we went along. We’d usually keep playing until the sun went down, or the bat broke, or the ball went into a drainage ditch, or one of us got stung by something and needed first aid. We never counted innings. Probably 40 or 50. We also didn’t count balls and strikes… just strikes. A batter could watch 10 or 12 pitches before swinging if he wanted to.
Attic fans and shade trees. Air conditioning was not something readily available in my youth. I remember my family getting our first window unit when I was older… maybe in junior high school (which is what we used to call middle school.) But before that first AC, it was all about fans and shade. At night, I would open the windows and feel the breeze from that attic fan.
Grilling out. There really was not a lot of “eating out” in those days… fast food restaurants really hadn’t been developed yet. So suppertime was always at home. But, for a treat, we’d grill hot dogs, and maybe even hamburgers. For special occasions, we’d have actual store-bought buns with the burgers or dogs – but that was a luxury, because plain ole bread worked just fine.
Camping out. In the back yard! The neighbors would come over, and we’d camp out all night. Sometimes even up in the tree house.
The drive-in movies. During the summertime, Wednesday nights were FREE at Ray’s U.S. 1 Drive-In Theatre in Lexington. Well, not totally free… but all you had to do was get a coupon from a local merchant. I lived right down the street… so I walked in to the drive-in every Wednesday.
Myrtle Beach. Wow. Nowadays, the word “vacation” means taking a week off for an exotic destination, a cruise, or maybe even Disney. Back then, the word meant “Myrtle Beach”… maybe only for a couple of days…maybe even just a day. Didn’t matter. It was Myrtle Beach, and you couldn’t ask for any place better.
I could go on and on… I could fill up an entire newspaper… because when I was a kid, my world revolved around summertime. Life was wonderful.
In this age of cell-phones and laptops, fast food and year-round schools, I hope the kids of today are still getting a little bit of what we had back then. And I hope my memories of summertime have helped you dust off a few of your own.
Last month, you may know, we observed a Blue Moon. “Blue Moon” is the term given to a second full moon which occurs in any calendar month. It doesn’t happen very often. On average, there is a Blue Moon every 2.7 years… a little more frequently than we hold presidential elections. During any 100 years, there will be approximately 40 Blue Moons. Hence, the phrase “once in a blue moon”.
I hope you found this information useful. The rest of this column will NOT attempt to include any particularly useful information.
As it turns out, when I was looking at the calendar trying to figure out the Blue Moon thing, it occurred to me that summertime is really here… and my mind started to wander. (You will note that I said “summertime is here”, not “summer is here”. In my mind, there’s a difference: “Summertime”, to me, is the period between Memorial Day and Labor Day, and “summer” is the period between the summer solstice – typically June 21 – and the autumnal equinox – about September 21.)
Anyway, realizing that summertime is here, my mind wandered back to the time when summertime was really important: back when I was a kid!
It was a simpler time, and those glorious months of June, July and August were what made life worth living!
I’m sure you’ve got your own summertime memories from your youth… and I’ll bet if I tell you some of mine, it will jumpstart yours….
Barefoot. All summer long. At the end of the day, my feet were dirty, because they had been in the dirt all day long. (But be careful walking on asphalt. Hot!)
Riding my bike. Everywhere. I used clothes-pins to attach pieces of cardboard to the bike, so the spokes would make a sound like an engine. There was a backseat to give someone a lift, and a basket to tote stuff in… occasionally even a small person or a pet.
Going swimming. Virtually every summer day would find me at the lake. I lived five miles away from Lake Murray, so my buddies and I would hop on our bikes and pedal up and down hills in the middle of the day to reach our swimming spot. Some days, Dad would take us again after work.
Walking to the store to get a Pepsi. It was hot, and a bottle of Pepsi was cold and wet. Buying a soft drink was an extravagance back then. It was before the days of canned drinks in the refrigerator at home, and before there were coin-operated drink boxes on every corner. But you could hike to the nearest store, and for a dime, get a Pepsi, Coke, RC, Nehi, or Dr. Pepper. They were in reusable glass bottles, and the Cokes came in a small size, too. And the best part was this: When you returned your bottle, you got a two-cent deposit back. That means, if I didn’t have a dime – which I frequently didn’t – you could simply collect five bottles and turn them in for a dime, then use the dime to pay for your Pepsi!
Staying a month at a time at Grandma’s house. She lived out in the country… it was great. We’d play Rummy and Setback in the morning, and various aunts, uncles, or cousins usually came by in the afternoon.
Baseball every day. All the guys in the neighborhood would bring their bats and
gloves to the nearest field. It wasn’t exactly sand-lot baseball, because there wasn’t any sand…. It was a field full of weeds that we would beat down, or cut with a sling-blade. We’d choose up sides, and make the rules as we went along. We’d usually keep playing until the sun went down, or the bat broke, or the ball went into a drainage ditch, or one of us got stung by something and needed first aid. We never counted innings. Probably 40 or 50. We also didn’t count balls and strikes… just strikes. A batter could watch 10 or 12 pitches before swinging if he wanted to.
Attic fans and shade trees. Air conditioning was not something readily available in my youth. I remember my family getting our first window unit when I was older… maybe in junior high school (which is what we used to call middle school.) But before that first AC, it was all about fans and shade. At night, I would open the windows and feel the breeze from that attic fan.
Grilling out. There really was not a lot of “eating out” in those days… fast food restaurants really hadn’t been developed yet. So suppertime was always at home. But, for a treat, we’d grill hot dogs, and maybe even hamburgers. For special occasions, we’d have actual store-bought buns with the burgers or dogs – but that was a luxury, because plain ole bread worked just fine.
Camping out. In the back yard! The neighbors would come over, and we’d camp out all night. Sometimes even up in the tree house.
The drive-in movies. During the summertime, Wednesday nights were FREE at Ray’s U.S. 1 Drive-In Theatre in Lexington. Well, not totally free… but all you had to do was get a coupon from a local merchant. I lived right down the street… so I walked in to the drive-in every Wednesday.
Myrtle Beach. Wow. Nowadays, the word “vacation” means taking a week off for an exotic destination, a cruise, or maybe even Disney. Back then, the word meant “Myrtle Beach”… maybe only for a couple of days…maybe even just a day. Didn’t matter. It was Myrtle Beach, and you couldn’t ask for any place better.
I could go on and on… I could fill up an entire newspaper… because when I was a kid, my world revolved around summertime. Life was wonderful.
In this age of cell-phones and laptops, fast food and year-round schools, I hope the kids of today are still getting a little bit of what we had back then. And I hope my memories of summertime have helped you dust off a few of your own.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
The Basics of Barbecue
Have I ever told you about my kids?
I’ve been blessed with three, each of whom has made me immensely proud as they reached adulthood.
Readers of this newspaper are most likely to know of the one who bears my name, Rod Jr., my oldest son. “RJ”, as he is often called, has followed closely in my footsteps, working with me as both a newspaper editor and political consultant. Despite this obvious error in judgment, I am proud of him. Everyone who works with him in either field – newspaper or politics – comes away impressed with his skills.
My step-daughter, Amy, has spent the last two years as a public school teacher in Charleston and Berkeley counties. She earned her Masters from the College of Charleston in Early Childhood Education, and has a passion for helping to develop young minds that few possess. She, too, has made me very proud.
And then there is my second son, Ross, who some have a hard time believing is my son at all, due to (a) his distinguished stint in the military, and (b) his apparent normal lifestyle. While it’s true that I personally have a hard time wrapping my mind around things like the military or a normal, 9-to-5 job, I am nonetheless both proud of and impressed with his accomplishments. He graduated from Annapolis, served as a U.S. Navy submarine officer, taught Naval Sciences at the University of South Carolina, and is now enrolled in Law School.
A while back, however, I discovered that Ross does have one redeeming departure from normalcy: he writes a very popular blog entitled “Barbecue and Politics” (scbarbecue.blogspot.com).
While his political commentary is insightful and entertaining, his reviews of Barbecue establishments from across the state are critical in answering one of life’s most fundamental questions: “Where can you get the best Barbecue?”
Since, as the old saying goes, “the apple don’t fall too far from the tree”, I’m pretty sure I, too, have some useful BBQ knowledge to impart. And, now that Memorial Day is passed, and we’re well into Barbecue season, I thought I would review some of the Bar-B-Q basics to help you get your summertime off to a good start.
Let me emphasize that it is NOT necessary for everyone to memorize these BBQ basics… only if you live south of the Mason-Dixon line, in which case it is a critical and necessary part of surviving.
BBQ Basic #1: There are about ten different ways to spell barbecue, and they are all correct: Barbecue, Barbeque, Bar-B-Cue, Bar-B-Que, Bar-B-Q, BBQ, etc. Fact of the matter is, it’s danged near impossible to MISspell the word.
BBQ Basic #2: It is not always necessary to capitalize the word Barbecue… only when it is written, spoken, or dreamt of.
BBQ Basic #3: There are three officially-recognized kinds of sauce -- Mustard-based, ketchup-based, and vinegar-based – and the vinegar stuff don’t always count.
BBQ Basic #4: Cooking slabs of pork, beef, poultry, etc., over a fire is “Barbecuing”; Cooking hotdogs or hamburgers on a grill is “grilling”… although the term “barbecue” has been Yankeefied to erroneously refer to the latter as the former. (Note: It’s not proper to capitalize the word “barbecue” when you’re erroneously referring to “grilling out”.)
BBQ Basic #5: Barbecue is good.
BBQ Basic #6: Barbecue is also fattening. Get over it.
BBQ Basic #7: The word Barbecue can be used as a noun, a verb, or an adjective. In some counties, also an interjection.
BBQ Basic #8: Summertime is Barbecue time. If you’re in the South, and you do NOT eat Barbecue on Memorial Day, July Fourth, or Labor Day… hope you enjoyed your stay, now you can go back up North.
BBQ Basic #9: There are only a few acceptable foods to eat along with Barbecue: Hash and rice, baked beans, sliced bread, coleslaw, and hush puppies. If anyone tries to pawn off anything else on you (i.e. – French fries, salad, baked potato, etc.), tell’em to take it back and bring you some HASH!
BBQ Basic #10: Barbecuing is a skill… a lot like rocket science. Don’t try it at home. Leave it to the professionals. (If you have any trouble finding a place to eat Barbecue, feel free to send me an email: RodShealy@aol.com. I’ll consult with my young’uns and let you know the best place for you.)
Have a good summer.
I’ve been blessed with three, each of whom has made me immensely proud as they reached adulthood.
Readers of this newspaper are most likely to know of the one who bears my name, Rod Jr., my oldest son. “RJ”, as he is often called, has followed closely in my footsteps, working with me as both a newspaper editor and political consultant. Despite this obvious error in judgment, I am proud of him. Everyone who works with him in either field – newspaper or politics – comes away impressed with his skills.
My step-daughter, Amy, has spent the last two years as a public school teacher in Charleston and Berkeley counties. She earned her Masters from the College of Charleston in Early Childhood Education, and has a passion for helping to develop young minds that few possess. She, too, has made me very proud.
And then there is my second son, Ross, who some have a hard time believing is my son at all, due to (a) his distinguished stint in the military, and (b) his apparent normal lifestyle. While it’s true that I personally have a hard time wrapping my mind around things like the military or a normal, 9-to-5 job, I am nonetheless both proud of and impressed with his accomplishments. He graduated from Annapolis, served as a U.S. Navy submarine officer, taught Naval Sciences at the University of South Carolina, and is now enrolled in Law School.
A while back, however, I discovered that Ross does have one redeeming departure from normalcy: he writes a very popular blog entitled “Barbecue and Politics” (scbarbecue.blogspot.com).
While his political commentary is insightful and entertaining, his reviews of Barbecue establishments from across the state are critical in answering one of life’s most fundamental questions: “Where can you get the best Barbecue?”
Since, as the old saying goes, “the apple don’t fall too far from the tree”, I’m pretty sure I, too, have some useful BBQ knowledge to impart. And, now that Memorial Day is passed, and we’re well into Barbecue season, I thought I would review some of the Bar-B-Q basics to help you get your summertime off to a good start.
Let me emphasize that it is NOT necessary for everyone to memorize these BBQ basics… only if you live south of the Mason-Dixon line, in which case it is a critical and necessary part of surviving.
BBQ Basic #1: There are about ten different ways to spell barbecue, and they are all correct: Barbecue, Barbeque, Bar-B-Cue, Bar-B-Que, Bar-B-Q, BBQ, etc. Fact of the matter is, it’s danged near impossible to MISspell the word.
BBQ Basic #2: It is not always necessary to capitalize the word Barbecue… only when it is written, spoken, or dreamt of.
BBQ Basic #3: There are three officially-recognized kinds of sauce -- Mustard-based, ketchup-based, and vinegar-based – and the vinegar stuff don’t always count.
BBQ Basic #4: Cooking slabs of pork, beef, poultry, etc., over a fire is “Barbecuing”; Cooking hotdogs or hamburgers on a grill is “grilling”… although the term “barbecue” has been Yankeefied to erroneously refer to the latter as the former. (Note: It’s not proper to capitalize the word “barbecue” when you’re erroneously referring to “grilling out”.)
BBQ Basic #5: Barbecue is good.
BBQ Basic #6: Barbecue is also fattening. Get over it.
BBQ Basic #7: The word Barbecue can be used as a noun, a verb, or an adjective. In some counties, also an interjection.
BBQ Basic #8: Summertime is Barbecue time. If you’re in the South, and you do NOT eat Barbecue on Memorial Day, July Fourth, or Labor Day… hope you enjoyed your stay, now you can go back up North.
BBQ Basic #9: There are only a few acceptable foods to eat along with Barbecue: Hash and rice, baked beans, sliced bread, coleslaw, and hush puppies. If anyone tries to pawn off anything else on you (i.e. – French fries, salad, baked potato, etc.), tell’em to take it back and bring you some HASH!
BBQ Basic #10: Barbecuing is a skill… a lot like rocket science. Don’t try it at home. Leave it to the professionals. (If you have any trouble finding a place to eat Barbecue, feel free to send me an email: RodShealy@aol.com. I’ll consult with my young’uns and let you know the best place for you.)
Have a good summer.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
You should do it, too!
Every week, I “do” the First Amendment. I take advantage of one of the four basic freedoms which have been guaranteed by the First Amendment of the Constitution of the United States: Freedom of the Press. I also regularly take advantage of the other three: Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Religion, and Freedom to Peaceably Assemble.
You should, too.
These freedoms make our system of government work. Our Democratic Republic is designed to allow majority rule while protecting the rights of the minority. The system works best if we have an informed public… which is possible because of our individual freedoms to express our personal opinions, and even to try to sway the opinions of others. Freely sharing opinions on the important issues of the day helps insure that the information received by the public is balanced. Like your vote, your opinion can make a difference.
This was all brought to mind last week by the Republican Presidential Debate hosted in Columbia. The folks from the Fox Network, which sponsored the debate, asked me to meet them for an on-camera interview -- in my role as a political strategist -- to talk about the significance of our state’s primary.
Back in 1986, when I helped re-write the rules of the SC Republican Party as Chairman of its Rules Committee, I succeeded in making our Presidential Primary a permanent fixture, based on the success of our first primary in 1980. Consequently, our state’s Primary is rather unique: It was not established by state law, but rather by party rules. As such, our Republican Party can hold the primary at any time we choose… and since its 1980 inception, we have chosen to hold it before any other Southern state’s primary.
A few years ago, SC’s Democratic Party followed suit, and created their own Presidential Primary, and also positioned it as the first in the south.
Because our primaries are held before virtually all other states, they tend to carry greater weight toward choosing the next president.
In fact, the winner of the SC Republican Presidential Primary has gone on to win the nomination every time!!!
I have often said it’s not a coincidence that Reagan, Bush, Bush again, Dole and Bush (W) have each gained the nomination after winning in South Carolina. They each gained the nomination BECAUSE they won in South Carolina.
Our state, it turns out, has been THE turning point in each election. The momentum a candidate gains from winning the Palmetto State seems to make him unstoppable thereafter.
This means each of us here in the Palmetto State has an obligation of sorts to help make sure we choose correctly. Our actions will likely determine the next leader of the free world!
Between now and our 2008 Primary (which will probably be held in January), I encourage you study the candidates of your party carefully, make your decision, and then get involved to make your opinion count. One good way to make your opinion known is to write a letter to the editor of this paper.
As for myself, I haven’t yet made my decision, but when I do, I’ll share my opinion and try to persuade others to see my point of view.
I’ll be using my First Amendment rights. You should, too.
--------------------------
You’re always welcome to let me know you agree, disagree, can’t make sense of, or simply don’t care about anything I’ve written here… or about any other topic that happens to be on your mind. You can email me directly at: RodShealy@aol.com.
And, if reading it once just wasn’t enough for you, read it again online – along with previous columns -- at my new blog: www.doingthefirst.blogspot.com
You should, too.
These freedoms make our system of government work. Our Democratic Republic is designed to allow majority rule while protecting the rights of the minority. The system works best if we have an informed public… which is possible because of our individual freedoms to express our personal opinions, and even to try to sway the opinions of others. Freely sharing opinions on the important issues of the day helps insure that the information received by the public is balanced. Like your vote, your opinion can make a difference.
This was all brought to mind last week by the Republican Presidential Debate hosted in Columbia. The folks from the Fox Network, which sponsored the debate, asked me to meet them for an on-camera interview -- in my role as a political strategist -- to talk about the significance of our state’s primary.
Back in 1986, when I helped re-write the rules of the SC Republican Party as Chairman of its Rules Committee, I succeeded in making our Presidential Primary a permanent fixture, based on the success of our first primary in 1980. Consequently, our state’s Primary is rather unique: It was not established by state law, but rather by party rules. As such, our Republican Party can hold the primary at any time we choose… and since its 1980 inception, we have chosen to hold it before any other Southern state’s primary.
A few years ago, SC’s Democratic Party followed suit, and created their own Presidential Primary, and also positioned it as the first in the south.
Because our primaries are held before virtually all other states, they tend to carry greater weight toward choosing the next president.
In fact, the winner of the SC Republican Presidential Primary has gone on to win the nomination every time!!!
I have often said it’s not a coincidence that Reagan, Bush, Bush again, Dole and Bush (W) have each gained the nomination after winning in South Carolina. They each gained the nomination BECAUSE they won in South Carolina.
Our state, it turns out, has been THE turning point in each election. The momentum a candidate gains from winning the Palmetto State seems to make him unstoppable thereafter.
This means each of us here in the Palmetto State has an obligation of sorts to help make sure we choose correctly. Our actions will likely determine the next leader of the free world!
Between now and our 2008 Primary (which will probably be held in January), I encourage you study the candidates of your party carefully, make your decision, and then get involved to make your opinion count. One good way to make your opinion known is to write a letter to the editor of this paper.
As for myself, I haven’t yet made my decision, but when I do, I’ll share my opinion and try to persuade others to see my point of view.
I’ll be using my First Amendment rights. You should, too.
--------------------------
You’re always welcome to let me know you agree, disagree, can’t make sense of, or simply don’t care about anything I’ve written here… or about any other topic that happens to be on your mind. You can email me directly at: RodShealy@aol.com.
And, if reading it once just wasn’t enough for you, read it again online – along with previous columns -- at my new blog: www.doingthefirst.blogspot.com
Friday, May 18, 2007
The Demise of Snail-Mail
One of the good things our postal carriers do each year is their annual “canned food” drive which they conduct during May. On the designated Saturday – which happened to be last Saturday – each carrier collects food along his or her route from postal patrons who leave donations at their mailboxes. At the end of the day, the postal carriers donate all the food to help feed the hungry.
It’s a really good PR move for the postal service, but, of course, it slows down delivery on that Saturday.
This year, it was even slower, because last Saturday was also the final mail-service day before the new 2-cent postal rate increase took effect. Untold millions of mailers took advantage of that final day to slip in a little extra mail at the lower rate.
Two things occurred to me:
1. I felt really bad for the carriers. It was the perfect storm for them, because in addition to rate-increase mail and cans of food, there were also millions and millions of Mothers Day cards being delivered.
2. I wondered whether there had been a major lapse in planning for the higher-ups at the Post Office to have scheduled their rate increase for the same weekend as the food drive.
Then, of course, the light went off! They probably did it on purpose! Why not take advantage of the postal service’s best PR of the year – the food drive – to slip in the worst PR of the year – the rate increase? Brilliant!
Just when I was thinking the Big Guys at the P.O. had rocks in their heads, they slip in the slickest PR move of the decade. The spin-masters of Wall-Street, Hollywood, and Washington, DC, should all be envious.
I have my own personal theory about the rate increase.
I believe their real intention is to honor the Founder of the Postal Service – Benjamin Franklin – by steadily raising postage rates until the price of a stamp requires you to use a monetary unit which bears his likeness.
During the past decade or so which has seen the development and proliferation of the Internet (and its off-spring, Email), old-fashioned snail mail has been assumed by many to be on its way to becoming a dinosaur… a thing of the past. During this decade or next, we were informed, we would witness the demise of the Postal Service.
But it hasn’t worked out that way. The good ole-fashioned US Mail is at an all-time high, and growing exponentially. It’s booming! While email has replaced some formerly snail-mailed correspondence -- as has the easy availability of nationwide, even global, telephone service – a new wave of mail has more than taken its place.
Technology has opened endless new possibilities for direct-mail marketing, which is by far the largest volume of mail.
And E-Commerce – which is a fancy way of saying you bought something from an Internet website – has created a greater-than-ever demand for cross-country delivery of items… which would previously have been purchased from a shop down the street.
Put it all together, and you have a mail boom which has frankly exploded almost faster than the USPS could handle. To process the daily tons of extra mail, they’ve called upon even more technological advancements: computerized machines which can sort the mail hundreds of times faster than humans – UNLESS the mail is of a shape or size that the machine doesn’t like. In that case, it’s back to the old way of sorting… AND your postage rate didn’t increase by two cents; it DOUBLED!!!
All of which I bring to your attention as a sort-of salute to the hard-working men and women of the USPS… the carriers, the sorters, the whole gang. They work hard, they’re more dependable than Ole Faithful, and deserve the wages they earn. AND… once a year, they pick up cans of food to help feed the hungry!
Unfortunately, the extra loot the USPS started raking in this week is mostly NOT going to pay-raises for them, but instead to investments in additional personnel, new technology, and extra facilities needed to handle “the demise of the Postal Service”.
It’s a really good PR move for the postal service, but, of course, it slows down delivery on that Saturday.
This year, it was even slower, because last Saturday was also the final mail-service day before the new 2-cent postal rate increase took effect. Untold millions of mailers took advantage of that final day to slip in a little extra mail at the lower rate.
Two things occurred to me:
1. I felt really bad for the carriers. It was the perfect storm for them, because in addition to rate-increase mail and cans of food, there were also millions and millions of Mothers Day cards being delivered.
2. I wondered whether there had been a major lapse in planning for the higher-ups at the Post Office to have scheduled their rate increase for the same weekend as the food drive.
Then, of course, the light went off! They probably did it on purpose! Why not take advantage of the postal service’s best PR of the year – the food drive – to slip in the worst PR of the year – the rate increase? Brilliant!
Just when I was thinking the Big Guys at the P.O. had rocks in their heads, they slip in the slickest PR move of the decade. The spin-masters of Wall-Street, Hollywood, and Washington, DC, should all be envious.
I have my own personal theory about the rate increase.
I believe their real intention is to honor the Founder of the Postal Service – Benjamin Franklin – by steadily raising postage rates until the price of a stamp requires you to use a monetary unit which bears his likeness.
During the past decade or so which has seen the development and proliferation of the Internet (and its off-spring, Email), old-fashioned snail mail has been assumed by many to be on its way to becoming a dinosaur… a thing of the past. During this decade or next, we were informed, we would witness the demise of the Postal Service.
But it hasn’t worked out that way. The good ole-fashioned US Mail is at an all-time high, and growing exponentially. It’s booming! While email has replaced some formerly snail-mailed correspondence -- as has the easy availability of nationwide, even global, telephone service – a new wave of mail has more than taken its place.
Technology has opened endless new possibilities for direct-mail marketing, which is by far the largest volume of mail.
And E-Commerce – which is a fancy way of saying you bought something from an Internet website – has created a greater-than-ever demand for cross-country delivery of items… which would previously have been purchased from a shop down the street.
Put it all together, and you have a mail boom which has frankly exploded almost faster than the USPS could handle. To process the daily tons of extra mail, they’ve called upon even more technological advancements: computerized machines which can sort the mail hundreds of times faster than humans – UNLESS the mail is of a shape or size that the machine doesn’t like. In that case, it’s back to the old way of sorting… AND your postage rate didn’t increase by two cents; it DOUBLED!!!
All of which I bring to your attention as a sort-of salute to the hard-working men and women of the USPS… the carriers, the sorters, the whole gang. They work hard, they’re more dependable than Ole Faithful, and deserve the wages they earn. AND… once a year, they pick up cans of food to help feed the hungry!
Unfortunately, the extra loot the USPS started raking in this week is mostly NOT going to pay-raises for them, but instead to investments in additional personnel, new technology, and extra facilities needed to handle “the demise of the Postal Service”.
Roots and Wings
There’s a cute little saying that perhaps you’ve heard: “It’s nice to be important… but it’s more important to be nice.”
I grew up with that saying. I first heard it from my mom. I think we even had it on a placard hanging somewhere in the house. And I heard it repeated often while I was growing up.
It stuck with me.
Over the years, any time I started heading down the path of feelin’ a little more important about myself than I actually was, those words would always rescue me. (It worked out well, because there really wasn’t anything I had done which could rightfully be classified as “important”, anyway.)
And, over the years, being nice to others has become something I believe in. I’m sure I occasionally slip up, but I do genuinely try to always consider the feelings of others and simply “be nice” to them. It’s probably one of my few good habits.
There’s a reason I’m telling you about my try-to-be-nice habit this week: I happen to know exactly how I acquired it as I was growing up.
I acquired the habit because my mom did more than TELL my siblings and me that cute little saying. She also SHOWED us that it was more important to be nice. She set an example of being nice to others that made an indelible impression on us.
In the 53 years I’ve been on this earth, I’ve never heard my mom say an unkind word about another soul. Nor have I seen her act in an uncaring manner toward anyone.
There is a seemingly endless list of names of those who she has uplifted, befriended, commended, promoted, supported, boosted, complimented, elevated, or otherwise helped. But never once have I heard a disparaging remark about anyone from her.
For my entire life, I’ve only seen her be nice.
It created a footprint which cannot be erased from my mind.
She had another favorite saying that I heard her repeat from time to time. She said “Children learn what they live.”
And that, I believe, is why she has spent a lifetime being nice. She knew that the examples she set for her children are what would eventually determine both our roots and our wings. For those roots and wings, I am thankful.
As Americans pause this weekend to celebrate the most worthy of holidays -- Mothers Day -- we’ll each have our own special memories of our own moms.
I hope your Mothers Day is as special to you as mine is to me.
I grew up with that saying. I first heard it from my mom. I think we even had it on a placard hanging somewhere in the house. And I heard it repeated often while I was growing up.
It stuck with me.
Over the years, any time I started heading down the path of feelin’ a little more important about myself than I actually was, those words would always rescue me. (It worked out well, because there really wasn’t anything I had done which could rightfully be classified as “important”, anyway.)
And, over the years, being nice to others has become something I believe in. I’m sure I occasionally slip up, but I do genuinely try to always consider the feelings of others and simply “be nice” to them. It’s probably one of my few good habits.
There’s a reason I’m telling you about my try-to-be-nice habit this week: I happen to know exactly how I acquired it as I was growing up.
I acquired the habit because my mom did more than TELL my siblings and me that cute little saying. She also SHOWED us that it was more important to be nice. She set an example of being nice to others that made an indelible impression on us.
In the 53 years I’ve been on this earth, I’ve never heard my mom say an unkind word about another soul. Nor have I seen her act in an uncaring manner toward anyone.
There is a seemingly endless list of names of those who she has uplifted, befriended, commended, promoted, supported, boosted, complimented, elevated, or otherwise helped. But never once have I heard a disparaging remark about anyone from her.
For my entire life, I’ve only seen her be nice.
It created a footprint which cannot be erased from my mind.
She had another favorite saying that I heard her repeat from time to time. She said “Children learn what they live.”
And that, I believe, is why she has spent a lifetime being nice. She knew that the examples she set for her children are what would eventually determine both our roots and our wings. For those roots and wings, I am thankful.
As Americans pause this weekend to celebrate the most worthy of holidays -- Mothers Day -- we’ll each have our own special memories of our own moms.
I hope your Mothers Day is as special to you as mine is to me.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Cinco de Mayo, Y’all
This week is Cinco de Mayo. It’s a Mexican National Holiday – May 5th -- that we probably ought to get used to.
In recent years, more and more Americans have started observing the occasion with Cinco de Mayo parties, as an opportunity to celebrate Mexican culture. (“Celebrating Mexican culture” is really just another way of saying “drinking tequila”.)
Growing up in the Midlands of South Carolina in the 1960’s, I was not exposed to very much Hispanic tradition. Most of what I knew about Mexico was what I had gleaned from my visits to “South of the Border” in Dillon County on I-95. (Years later, I was taken aback to learn that the convenience stores in Mexico are NOT lined with wall-to-wall video poker machines.)
In high school, circa 1970, when I was mandated by state law to study a foreign language, I was given a choice between Spanish or French. I wanted to choose the one which would be most useful in my later life, so naturally I chose French. What possible use would I ever have for Spanish? Where was I more likely to travel? Paris or El Burrito?
Then, in the early 80’s, when the Shealy family was flown to Los Angeles to appear on the show “Family Feud” – true story, we’ll get to it another time – we were asked the now famous “Mexican food” question. Richard Dawson, the shows host, announces: “One hundred Americans surveyed, top five answers on the board… Name your favorite Mexican food!”
Blank stares from the Shealy family. It was the early 80’s, before the Age of Taco Bell, and we were from Lexington County, in the middle of the Deep South, home of grits, fatback, and collard greens. We were having trouble thinking of ONE Mexican food, let alone five!
Over the years, I’ve tried to gain a better understanding of our neighbors to the south. I like some of their traditions, especially the one about taking a nap in the middle of every afternoon: the siesta! Now that’s a tradition I could learn to love, especially at my age. Granted, the hour out of the workday probably hasn’t been the greatest stimulus for their national economy… gross national product, gross domestic product, etc. But pesos aren’t everything, right? I vote for the nap.
Now, the “worm-in-the-beer” tradition… I’m not so sure about that one. (You have to drink some pretty nasty beer to get to that worm!)
Until recently, I always thought Cinco de Mayo was Mexican Independence Day. Not so. May 5th commemorate the day in the 1860’s the Mexicans beat the French! Frankly, I think it’s an awful lot of hoopla to celebrate beating an army of chefs and artists. The Girl Scouts could beat the French.
The actual Mexican Independence Day is later in the year, September 16th. We Americans celebrate that time of the year, but we call it a different name: Football Season!
Since we don’t really pay attention to Mexico in September, I’ll continue to think of Cinco de Mayo as their national celebration.
All of which brings me to the issue that seems to be weighing heavy on the American consciousness these days: Illegal Immigration.
Why are all those Mexicans coming here?
Why do the leave a homeland where they can take a nap every afternoon, to come pick our produce, wash our dishes, roof our houses, and dig our ditches? Why are they leaving their families and risking their lives for the tablescraps from the American feast of opportunity?
They’re willing to overcome many obstacles and hardships -- even imprisonment – for a taste at our free enterprise system. They’re breaking our laws to be here.
Some people see it as evidence that they are somehow substandard. I see it as evidence that they are endowed with the same human spirit which drives us all toward freedom.
I know I should be angrier that these illegal immigrants seem to find ways to stay here in spite of our laws… but I guess I’m just grateful that I’m lucky enough to have been born here.
In observance of Mexico’s May 5th, I’ll be celebrating America’s July 4th.
In recent years, more and more Americans have started observing the occasion with Cinco de Mayo parties, as an opportunity to celebrate Mexican culture. (“Celebrating Mexican culture” is really just another way of saying “drinking tequila”.)
Growing up in the Midlands of South Carolina in the 1960’s, I was not exposed to very much Hispanic tradition. Most of what I knew about Mexico was what I had gleaned from my visits to “South of the Border” in Dillon County on I-95. (Years later, I was taken aback to learn that the convenience stores in Mexico are NOT lined with wall-to-wall video poker machines.)
In high school, circa 1970, when I was mandated by state law to study a foreign language, I was given a choice between Spanish or French. I wanted to choose the one which would be most useful in my later life, so naturally I chose French. What possible use would I ever have for Spanish? Where was I more likely to travel? Paris or El Burrito?
Then, in the early 80’s, when the Shealy family was flown to Los Angeles to appear on the show “Family Feud” – true story, we’ll get to it another time – we were asked the now famous “Mexican food” question. Richard Dawson, the shows host, announces: “One hundred Americans surveyed, top five answers on the board… Name your favorite Mexican food!”
Blank stares from the Shealy family. It was the early 80’s, before the Age of Taco Bell, and we were from Lexington County, in the middle of the Deep South, home of grits, fatback, and collard greens. We were having trouble thinking of ONE Mexican food, let alone five!
Over the years, I’ve tried to gain a better understanding of our neighbors to the south. I like some of their traditions, especially the one about taking a nap in the middle of every afternoon: the siesta! Now that’s a tradition I could learn to love, especially at my age. Granted, the hour out of the workday probably hasn’t been the greatest stimulus for their national economy… gross national product, gross domestic product, etc. But pesos aren’t everything, right? I vote for the nap.
Now, the “worm-in-the-beer” tradition… I’m not so sure about that one. (You have to drink some pretty nasty beer to get to that worm!)
Until recently, I always thought Cinco de Mayo was Mexican Independence Day. Not so. May 5th commemorate the day in the 1860’s the Mexicans beat the French! Frankly, I think it’s an awful lot of hoopla to celebrate beating an army of chefs and artists. The Girl Scouts could beat the French.
The actual Mexican Independence Day is later in the year, September 16th. We Americans celebrate that time of the year, but we call it a different name: Football Season!
Since we don’t really pay attention to Mexico in September, I’ll continue to think of Cinco de Mayo as their national celebration.
All of which brings me to the issue that seems to be weighing heavy on the American consciousness these days: Illegal Immigration.
Why are all those Mexicans coming here?
Why do the leave a homeland where they can take a nap every afternoon, to come pick our produce, wash our dishes, roof our houses, and dig our ditches? Why are they leaving their families and risking their lives for the tablescraps from the American feast of opportunity?
They’re willing to overcome many obstacles and hardships -- even imprisonment – for a taste at our free enterprise system. They’re breaking our laws to be here.
Some people see it as evidence that they are somehow substandard. I see it as evidence that they are endowed with the same human spirit which drives us all toward freedom.
I know I should be angrier that these illegal immigrants seem to find ways to stay here in spite of our laws… but I guess I’m just grateful that I’m lucky enough to have been born here.
In observance of Mexico’s May 5th, I’ll be celebrating America’s July 4th.
The Official State Wiseguy?
Early each year, I try to get a copy of one of my favorite books: The annual South Carolina Legislative Manual.
Most people have never seen a legislative manual, nor would they really want to. The book is basically a 600-page “Who’s Who” in state government: pictures and biographies of the 170 members of the legislature, along with the names of people who make up the boards and leadership positions of all state agencies, and lots of rules, regulations, and statutes covering various areas of government.
When you’re in the newspaper business, this directory comes in handy. There are times when we need to know who to call about a certain news story.
But, if you’re private citizen, it can also be useful. Say, for instance, you hear on the news about a legislator who gets stopped by the highway patrol, but refuses to get out of the car, and you want to see what that person looks like: Presto! The legislative manual. Or maybe a legislator who gets picked up for sleeping in the car by the side of the road because he/she was too drunk to drive any further. Presto again! The legislative manual. Or perhaps a legislator gets nailed for making harassing phone calls to his ex’s boyfriend. Bingo! The legislative manual. (Each of the cases named above, incidentally, are purely hypothetical. Any resemblance whatsoever to any actual legislator is purely coincidental.)
It’s a handy little book. But very few people are even aware this resource exists. And even fewer have ever called it “one of my favorite books”: I’m probably the only one. And it’s not because of the thousands of important names, the pictures and bios, or the hundreds of rules, regulations and statutes. It’s mostly because of the last 29 pages.
The last 29 pages are where they publish glossy color photographs of our official state symbols, along with write-ups telling why each one is so special.
When I was in grade school, we only had three state symbols: the state tree, the state bird, and the state flower. Those were the same three symbols that every state had.
I was proud of OUR state symbols. The Palmetto Tree had historical significance, because it helped thwart the British at Fort Moultrie. The Carolina Wren was special, because it had our state name in its name. And the Yellow Jessamine... well it reminded me of yellow honeysuckles, except they said it was actually sort of poison.
Although I didn’t study them in grade school, I later learned that we also had a state seal, which seems appropriate (in case we ever need to start printing our own money again); a state sword, which seems a little outdated to me, but I suppose it could come in handy in settling feuds between the House and the Senate; and the state mace. I have no idea what a mace is, or what its used for. I only know of its existence because once a few years ago it was lost or stolen or misplaced for a while, before being found or returned. (I’m guessing some intoxicated legislator remembered his wedding anniversary after all the stores had closed.)
Nowadays, we have a lot more Official State Symbols: 44 in all, according to the 2007 Legislative Manual. And some of them are real doozies.
By my count, we now have nine various official animals to go along with our state bird. The official “State Animal” is the whitetail deer... you know, like Bambi. (For some reason, it doesn’t seem right to pass a law designating one animal as our official state animal, then pass another law establishing a hunting season for that animal.)
Along with Bambi, we have the official State Fish, the striped bass; The State Wild Game Bird, the wild turkey; the State Reptile, the loggerhead sea turtle; the State Dog, the Boykin Spaniel; the State Insect, the Carolina Mantid; the State Butterfly, the Eastern Tiger Swallowtail; the State Amphibian, the Spotted Salamander; and the State Spider, the Carolina Wolf Spider.
I gotta be honest. They lost me somewhere between reptile and insect. These official state symbols just don’t do it for me the way the Palmetto Tree and the Carolina Wren did back in the third grade.
Let’s move on to rocks. We in South Carolina seem to be very proud of our rocks. We have three official ones: the State Stone: Blue Granite; the State Gem Stone, the amethyst; and the State Shell, the Lettered Olive.
I know a shell is not technically a rock, but it fits better in that category than the next one: Official State Foods and Beverages.
You’ll be happy to know that we have four. In a nutshell, they’re milk, tea, peaches and peanuts: The State Beverage, the State Hospitality Beverage, the State Fruit, and the State Snack, respectively.
After all that food and drink, you’ll want to burn off some calories. How about dancing? We have three different dances.
The State Dance is the Shag; the State American Folk Dance is the square dance; and the State Waltz is the Richardson Waltz.
Frankly, we have too many official state symbols to mention, but let me quickly try to run through a few more from the list: The State Lowcountry Handicraft – the sweetgrass basket; The State Tartan – the Carolina Tartan; the State Grass – Indian grass; The State Opera – Porgy and Bess; the State Tapestry –“From the Mountains to the Sea”; the State Rural Drama Theatre – Abbeville Opera House. There are a lot more, but I think you get the picture.
Here’s the best part: each and every one of these official symbols earned their designation because a bill was introduced, studied by a committee, passed both the House and Senate on three separate occasions by a majority vote, ratified, and signed into law by the Governor.
Do you think somebody ran for office on this platform? “Vote for me and I’ll make the Spotted Salamander our official State Amphibian.”
This year, the purchase price of the legislative manual went up from $5.00 to $8.00. But it’s still quite a bargain. Where else can you get that much entertainment for under ten bucks?
Most people have never seen a legislative manual, nor would they really want to. The book is basically a 600-page “Who’s Who” in state government: pictures and biographies of the 170 members of the legislature, along with the names of people who make up the boards and leadership positions of all state agencies, and lots of rules, regulations, and statutes covering various areas of government.
When you’re in the newspaper business, this directory comes in handy. There are times when we need to know who to call about a certain news story.
But, if you’re private citizen, it can also be useful. Say, for instance, you hear on the news about a legislator who gets stopped by the highway patrol, but refuses to get out of the car, and you want to see what that person looks like: Presto! The legislative manual. Or maybe a legislator who gets picked up for sleeping in the car by the side of the road because he/she was too drunk to drive any further. Presto again! The legislative manual. Or perhaps a legislator gets nailed for making harassing phone calls to his ex’s boyfriend. Bingo! The legislative manual. (Each of the cases named above, incidentally, are purely hypothetical. Any resemblance whatsoever to any actual legislator is purely coincidental.)
It’s a handy little book. But very few people are even aware this resource exists. And even fewer have ever called it “one of my favorite books”: I’m probably the only one. And it’s not because of the thousands of important names, the pictures and bios, or the hundreds of rules, regulations and statutes. It’s mostly because of the last 29 pages.
The last 29 pages are where they publish glossy color photographs of our official state symbols, along with write-ups telling why each one is so special.
When I was in grade school, we only had three state symbols: the state tree, the state bird, and the state flower. Those were the same three symbols that every state had.
I was proud of OUR state symbols. The Palmetto Tree had historical significance, because it helped thwart the British at Fort Moultrie. The Carolina Wren was special, because it had our state name in its name. And the Yellow Jessamine... well it reminded me of yellow honeysuckles, except they said it was actually sort of poison.
Although I didn’t study them in grade school, I later learned that we also had a state seal, which seems appropriate (in case we ever need to start printing our own money again); a state sword, which seems a little outdated to me, but I suppose it could come in handy in settling feuds between the House and the Senate; and the state mace. I have no idea what a mace is, or what its used for. I only know of its existence because once a few years ago it was lost or stolen or misplaced for a while, before being found or returned. (I’m guessing some intoxicated legislator remembered his wedding anniversary after all the stores had closed.)
Nowadays, we have a lot more Official State Symbols: 44 in all, according to the 2007 Legislative Manual. And some of them are real doozies.
By my count, we now have nine various official animals to go along with our state bird. The official “State Animal” is the whitetail deer... you know, like Bambi. (For some reason, it doesn’t seem right to pass a law designating one animal as our official state animal, then pass another law establishing a hunting season for that animal.)
Along with Bambi, we have the official State Fish, the striped bass; The State Wild Game Bird, the wild turkey; the State Reptile, the loggerhead sea turtle; the State Dog, the Boykin Spaniel; the State Insect, the Carolina Mantid; the State Butterfly, the Eastern Tiger Swallowtail; the State Amphibian, the Spotted Salamander; and the State Spider, the Carolina Wolf Spider.
I gotta be honest. They lost me somewhere between reptile and insect. These official state symbols just don’t do it for me the way the Palmetto Tree and the Carolina Wren did back in the third grade.
Let’s move on to rocks. We in South Carolina seem to be very proud of our rocks. We have three official ones: the State Stone: Blue Granite; the State Gem Stone, the amethyst; and the State Shell, the Lettered Olive.
I know a shell is not technically a rock, but it fits better in that category than the next one: Official State Foods and Beverages.
You’ll be happy to know that we have four. In a nutshell, they’re milk, tea, peaches and peanuts: The State Beverage, the State Hospitality Beverage, the State Fruit, and the State Snack, respectively.
After all that food and drink, you’ll want to burn off some calories. How about dancing? We have three different dances.
The State Dance is the Shag; the State American Folk Dance is the square dance; and the State Waltz is the Richardson Waltz.
Frankly, we have too many official state symbols to mention, but let me quickly try to run through a few more from the list: The State Lowcountry Handicraft – the sweetgrass basket; The State Tartan – the Carolina Tartan; the State Grass – Indian grass; The State Opera – Porgy and Bess; the State Tapestry –“From the Mountains to the Sea”; the State Rural Drama Theatre – Abbeville Opera House. There are a lot more, but I think you get the picture.
Here’s the best part: each and every one of these official symbols earned their designation because a bill was introduced, studied by a committee, passed both the House and Senate on three separate occasions by a majority vote, ratified, and signed into law by the Governor.
Do you think somebody ran for office on this platform? “Vote for me and I’ll make the Spotted Salamander our official State Amphibian.”
This year, the purchase price of the legislative manual went up from $5.00 to $8.00. But it’s still quite a bargain. Where else can you get that much entertainment for under ten bucks?
Spring Cleaning
With the arrival of Spring each year, I usually like to do a little spring cleaning. For most people, spring cleaning means touching up the house and yard... hauling off the clutter, maybe a little paint, plant a few shrubs, and that sort of thing.
For me, spring cleaning means pushing the stacks of "stuff" off the top of my desk into several large boxes, and then marking the boxes "Spring '07", and stacking them on top of other similarly marked boxes from years gone by.
If I'm rushed, I just slide the stuff off the desk into the boxes quickly... the whole process takes ten minutes, eight minutes of which are spent finding the boxes and the markers to write on the boxes. During a quickie spring cleaning, I will generally rescue maybe a dozen items from the stacks of stuff -- items which require my immediate attention -- and leave them on my desk in the correct location for the beginning of a new stack of stuff.
When I really want to get into some serious spring cleaning, however, I take my time moving the stuff from the desk to the boxes, often carefully examining each item before cramming it into the box. This method allows me to subdivide the stuff into various categories, and cram it into appropriately marked boxes (i.e. -- Unanswered Mail, Spring '07; Calls to Return, Spring '07; Junk Mail Which I Don't Want to Throw Away Because I Might Want To Read it Someday, Spring '07; Multi-Level Sales Opportunities, Spring '07; Invitations to Parties I Missed, But I Still Need To Acknowledge, Spring '07 [actually, this category does not require a very large box]; Miscellaneous Left-over Stuff, Spring '06, '05, '04)
Currently, I am involved in a very serious spring cleaning, which I expect to take a matter of weeks. One good part about this type of spring cleaning is this: I keep finding lost notes of things I meant to write about! So I'll mention a few of them now...
-- We recently received a semi-anonymous letter from Hank in Columbia who noted that he had seen a sign indicating a new bank is being built next to a new car wash. Hank wondered if perhaps we should be on the lookout for "money laundering". Hank, you were right to keep your letter at least semi-anonymous... for your own-protection... from the Bad Joke Police!
-- Next week, April 25th to be exact, is Administrative Professionals Day. I’m not sure what that is. I’m thinking maybe it used to be Secretaries Day, but they decided to change the name. Anybody know for sure?
-- I’ve recently invented yet another new word, to go along with the two new words I wrote about a few weeks ago “ar” and “teafill”. This word probably still needs a little work. It’s “crookwards”. I invented this word last week while hanging some framed documents on the wall. I know what it means, but I haven’t decided on the exact definition yet.
-- Here’s a piece of advice I meant to write about back before Ground Hog Day. I’ll expand more on it next winter – if I can find the scrap of paper – but for now, I’ll just offer this tip well in advance: I think you should always wear very comfortable clothes on Ground Hog Day, just in case the movie comes true.
-- Postage Stamps. I use a lot of them, and I always find a few leftovers when I clean my desk. (I recently came across an old 5-cent stamp lodged in the crack in the back of my desk drawer.) I heard on the news a few days ago that the post-office has invented a new “Forever Stamp”, which will allow you to mail a letter forever, no matter how high the price of a stamp goes. It sounds like a bargain to me. Now, if someone would just invent a gallon of “Forever Gasoline.”
I'm only half-way finished with my spring cleaning; next week, I'll be cleaning off the right side of my desk, and the stacks are a lot taller. So I'll probably have a lot more notes for you then.
For me, spring cleaning means pushing the stacks of "stuff" off the top of my desk into several large boxes, and then marking the boxes "Spring '07", and stacking them on top of other similarly marked boxes from years gone by.
If I'm rushed, I just slide the stuff off the desk into the boxes quickly... the whole process takes ten minutes, eight minutes of which are spent finding the boxes and the markers to write on the boxes. During a quickie spring cleaning, I will generally rescue maybe a dozen items from the stacks of stuff -- items which require my immediate attention -- and leave them on my desk in the correct location for the beginning of a new stack of stuff.
When I really want to get into some serious spring cleaning, however, I take my time moving the stuff from the desk to the boxes, often carefully examining each item before cramming it into the box. This method allows me to subdivide the stuff into various categories, and cram it into appropriately marked boxes (i.e. -- Unanswered Mail, Spring '07; Calls to Return, Spring '07; Junk Mail Which I Don't Want to Throw Away Because I Might Want To Read it Someday, Spring '07; Multi-Level Sales Opportunities, Spring '07; Invitations to Parties I Missed, But I Still Need To Acknowledge, Spring '07 [actually, this category does not require a very large box]; Miscellaneous Left-over Stuff, Spring '06, '05, '04)
Currently, I am involved in a very serious spring cleaning, which I expect to take a matter of weeks. One good part about this type of spring cleaning is this: I keep finding lost notes of things I meant to write about! So I'll mention a few of them now...
-- We recently received a semi-anonymous letter from Hank in Columbia who noted that he had seen a sign indicating a new bank is being built next to a new car wash. Hank wondered if perhaps we should be on the lookout for "money laundering". Hank, you were right to keep your letter at least semi-anonymous... for your own-protection... from the Bad Joke Police!
-- Next week, April 25th to be exact, is Administrative Professionals Day. I’m not sure what that is. I’m thinking maybe it used to be Secretaries Day, but they decided to change the name. Anybody know for sure?
-- I’ve recently invented yet another new word, to go along with the two new words I wrote about a few weeks ago “ar” and “teafill”. This word probably still needs a little work. It’s “crookwards”. I invented this word last week while hanging some framed documents on the wall. I know what it means, but I haven’t decided on the exact definition yet.
-- Here’s a piece of advice I meant to write about back before Ground Hog Day. I’ll expand more on it next winter – if I can find the scrap of paper – but for now, I’ll just offer this tip well in advance: I think you should always wear very comfortable clothes on Ground Hog Day, just in case the movie comes true.
-- Postage Stamps. I use a lot of them, and I always find a few leftovers when I clean my desk. (I recently came across an old 5-cent stamp lodged in the crack in the back of my desk drawer.) I heard on the news a few days ago that the post-office has invented a new “Forever Stamp”, which will allow you to mail a letter forever, no matter how high the price of a stamp goes. It sounds like a bargain to me. Now, if someone would just invent a gallon of “Forever Gasoline.”
I'm only half-way finished with my spring cleaning; next week, I'll be cleaning off the right side of my desk, and the stacks are a lot taller. So I'll probably have a lot more notes for you then.
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