Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

♦ THURSDAY, OCTOBER 26, 2006 4A Mnusimt Daily .IjmmtaJ. OPINION Daniel F. Evans Editor and Publisher Julie B. Evans Vice President Don Moncrief Foy S. Evans Managing Editor Editor Emeritus Earning citizenship way to go with illegals Immigration remains a hot issue. On one hand, the solution seems to be: “Round them all up. Send them all back.” On the other it’s ... well, has anybody heard another solution? To that end, and seeing as it’s probably going to be impossible to “round them all up and send them all back” as there’s an estimated 12 million undocumented immi grants here already, what do you think of this? Amnesty. “Ooh, you said the ‘A’ word. We don’t want to hear the ‘A’ word.” Neither do we but we offer it with a stipulation - and only with a stipulation. We help them on their way to citizenship. Our take is: “If you want to be an American citizen, fine. Now earn it.” How would they earn it? For starters and No. 1 on the list: Anyone who is able to serve in the military is enlisted. Wouldn’t this be a strain on taxpayers? Hopefully not and maybe not if we’re wise about it. The military, despite cutbacks, has openings. They’re just not in career fields most people would want. Part of the “pro” debate - those in favor of letting them stay - is they often do jobs we don’t want to do. That said this would be perfect for them. And it would take the burden off of some of our soldiers. We could even put them all in one unit as a test base, and that in turn would alleviate the fears of soldiers and their families that they wouldn’t watch their backs under fire. We would also give them training to include speaking English. Plus, they would be shipped off overseas. If they defected it would cause problems, yes, but let’s just see how able they are of getting back to the U.S. from Iraq. They would sign up, do four honorable years as a minimum, and EARN their citi zenship in the process. Now, what to do with the rest who aren’t able to meet military requirements (i.e. the physical)? Well, that will take some more work and some more thought - a well thought out plan by those in charge ulti mately - but there’s got to be plenty of com munity service work out there that would allow them to earn their citizenship. If you think about it - we’re in way too deep - it’s probably our last, best option. Letter to the Editor Amnesty not the answer The addressing of the immigration issue is a joke! One party proposes an idea or solution, and the other party just screams, “That’s amnesty!” without offering anything of value of their own. The worse part is that nobody ever takes the Second party to task. It all stops when somebody screams amnesty. Has anybody ever thought of what else is out there other than amnesty? If you can’t identify the illegal immigrants, you can’t put them on a bus to ship them home. If you can give them something they want, they will come to you, and the legality issues can begin to be controlled. Screaming amnesty isn’t a solution! I was taught that if you aren’t part of the solution, you are part‘of the problem. Go vote! Thomas W. Saul, Perry Send your Letters to the Editor to: The Houston Daily Journal P.O. Box 1910 • Perry, Ga 31069 or Email: hhj@evansnewspapers.com Wouldn't this be a strain on taxpay ers? Hopefully not and maybe not if we're wise about it. The military, despite cutbacks, has openings. They're just not in career fields most people would want. Campaigns aside - candidates are good The elections are still almost two weeks away and I have learned more than I want to know about gubernatorial and cohgressional candi dates ... and a lot less, too. All the candidates have told us about their opponents, who, if you believe the television commercials, are a bunch of no good so-and-so’s and unworthy of our vote. As a matter of fact, if you believe what candidates are saying about each other all of them deserve our con tempt, or less. So it goes in the era of television political campaigns. We got a much better understand ing of the candidates before it became possible for them to spend millions of dollars smearing opponents from the screen of a television set. Of course, sometimes a little informa tion comes across from candidates tell ing us about their virtues, accomplish ments and promises. But not often. I liked it in the days when I was growing up. Candidates had to stump the state or their congressional dis tricts, usually drawing a crowd with free barbecue. You got a close up look at the candidate and he stood up before you and made a rousing campaign speech. You got a chance to see all the candi dates in person and size them up. They took swipes at each other. Smear cam paigns aimed at completely destroying opponents did not exist. As a boy, I enjoyed those political ral lies in Americus, either in the park in •••V "I just don’t like this time change. It makes me early for work and late for lunch!" Watching, and remembering, children Sunday afternoons are made for leisure. If I had a robe, I’d wear one on Sunday afternoons. Wearing a robe symbolizes that you plan on doing absolutely nothing productive, or that you have pneumonia, or that you are institutionalized in the drooling acad emy. It has no other sensible uses. Anyway, robe-less, most of my Sunday afternoons involve sitting on my back porch, relaxing with a news paper, watching my children play in the backyard. Parents today must watch their kids play. I think it’s a law. That wasn’t the case when I was a youngster. During the summers, I would leave at daybreak and my par ents wouldn’t see me again until night fall. My friends and I would go fishing, or ride our bikes two miles to the near est convenience store just to get a Mr. Pibb and a Sugar Daddy, or we’d go “play war” at the nearby clay pits. We never feared anyone abducting us - it wasn’t a concern. My children will never know that freedom. We now hear so much about kid nappings and child molestations and such that our children are constantly supervised - which, in retrospect of my youthful wanderings - is probably a good thing. OPINION East Americus or in downtown. More than one candidate for governor stood on a balcony of the storied Windsor Hotel and shouted to the crowd assem bled in the street below. We did not have PA systems in those days. A candidate who did not have a strong voice might as well stay home. He didn’t have a chance. Two of my favorites on the campaign trail were Eugene Talmadge and Ed Rivers, fierce rivals. Talmadge cam paigned in his trademark overalls and red tie. Rivers wore a tuxedo as he campaigned around the state. They were great politicians and great show men. Their debates were better than any show you might pay for. They got votes by traveling all over the state meeting voters and talkingto them. Political campaigns took a turn for the worse when politicians discovered that they could get their messages into homes without the burden and wear and tear of campaigning day after day in one town after another. Things really got bad when consul tants discovered that elections could be won by smearing opponents, rather So, I take my easy seat on the back porch and watch. Sometimes, I’ll inter rupt my repose to participate in a game of baseball or “Kill The Man With The Bali.” But more often, I rest in an observational sloth. We have the requisite playthings in our backyard - old, bent-up mecha nized Barbie jeep, a miniature slide, a small playhouse. But the kids generally ignore the things they are supposed to play with in favor of more creative amusement. This past Sunday, my 7-year-old daughter got a shovel and a wheel barrow and moved dirt from one side of the yard to the other. Then, she grabbed some old plastic gutters and moved them over to the comer of the yard. When I heard hammering, I knew I had to investigate. “What are you doing?” I asked as I surveyed the makeshift construction Foy Evans Columnist foyevansl9@cox.net Len Robbins Columnist airpub@planttel.net HOUSTON DAILY JOURNAL than touting their own worthiness for the office. Each election cycle brings new refine ment to the art of character assassina tion. By this time in each election year most people make the same com ments: ‘‘None of the candidates are any good.” “I guess I’ll have to choose between two evils, but I’ll still have an evil.” “I’ll just stay home. Why can’t good people ever run for office?” And so it goes. Good people do run for political office. All the attack advertising makes you believe otherwise. Some good people who are elected cannot handle the power that goes with the job and they go bad, which we are seeing on the national level at this time. Most people who will vote Nov. 7 will have formed their opinions of the gubernatorial and congressional can didates on the basis of the incessant attack advertising. Unfortunately, most of those who decide on a candidate this way will not know anything else about the candidates, just as they probably do not know who the vice-president of the United States is. That is a weakness in our voting sys tem. Every citizen has a right to vote. Extreme efforts are made to persuade them to vote, and these are the very people who do not have a clue. That is why we sometimes get win ners that we do not deserve. site next to the playhouse. The gutters were leaned against the playhouse, with a new dirt floor under neath. “I’m adding a new room to the play house,” she answered matter-of-factly, continuing to hammer the gutters into the side of the playhouse without the benefit of nails. “Okay,” I said. Meanwhile, my two sons were play ing together cheerfully, laughing and giggling as they moved throughout the yard. A further probe revealed their new, fun-filled sport. Each had a tennis ball. They stood, facing each other, about four feet apart. When my older son, who is 4, counted to three, they would hurl the tennis balls at each other’s head. Hilarity would ensue when the ball would hit my 2-year-old son squarely between the eyes, knocking him on his tail. He didn’t seem to mind, so I didn’t either. “What’s this game called?” I asked as they did it again and again and again. “Knock Their Head Off,” answered my oldest son amidst the glee. I wandered back to the comfort of my lazy Sunday station. “They don’t know what they’re miss ing,” I said to myself. Neither did I. And neither will their children.