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DawsonOpinion
WEDNESDAY, July 25, 2018
This is a page of opinion — ours, yours and
others. Signed columns and cartoons are the
opinions of the writers and artists, and they
may not reflect our views.
Random
thoughts
Spoiler alert: A non-negotiable and finite dead
line doesn’t allow me the opportunity to discuss
the primary runoff results this week. That’s OK.
We can talk about it next week. Besides, Junior
E. Lee, general manager of the Yarbrough
Worldwide Media and Pest Control Company,
located in Greater Garfield, is busy spraying
Arvel Ridley’s bam for fleas and doesn’t have
time right now.
Junior is not only one of the nation’s most
highly respected and astute political analysts, he
is also a pest con
trol professional.
That is a rare
combination.
I don’t know a
lot about soccer
but I am on a
steep learning
curve since I am
told that Cameron Charles Yarbrough, who puts
the “great” in great-grandson, is showing some
proclivity for the sport.
I watched a bit of the World Cup recently, and
while I didn’t understand a lot of the strategies, I
was awed at the players’ skill to curve the ball
like a boomerang while running at full speed. I
was also shuck by the black and white team
mates on the winning French team standing arm-
in-arm and singing their national anthem, “La
Marseillaise,” unlike the overpaid knee-jerks in
the National Football League who disrespect
theirs.
With the popularity of the NFL waning and as
more mamas discourage their kids from playing
football lest they end up with mush brains as
likely will many of the knee-jerks, soccer is on
the rise. May we raise a generation of outstand
ing soccer players that will emulate the French in
their national pride.
Don’t look now but the University of Georgia,
the oldest state-chartered university in the nation,
located in Athens, the Classic City of the South,
just announced that donors have contributed over
$1 billion to the Commit to Georgia Campaign.
The campaign has a goal of raising $1.2 billion
by June 30, 2020, for additional scholarships to
fluid critical research and to further enhance the
university’s learning environment.
A billion dollars? I remember when we used
to high-five over one-tenth that amount. The
place is on fire and much credit goes to UGA
President Jere Moorhead for his quiet and effec
tive leadership.
It is hard to believe that it has been 22 years
since the Centennial Olympic Games.
The Games were outstanding. The city of
Atlanta was not. The city’s marketing director
took the whole thing as a big joke, proposing to
bounce ads off the moon and put billboards on
stray dogs.
The city government, indemnified from any
tax liability, nonetheless set up an ambush mar
keting program courting Olympic sponsors’
competitors and established a traffic-clogging
street vendor program that looked like a third-
world country on steroids.
The local media chose to nitpick us instead of
holding the city’s inept feet to the fire lest they be
labeled racist by a city administration that could
make a racial issue out of a lima bean. When the
games were over, I took a two-by-four to the
whole crowd in a guest editorial. That was the
beginning of a 20-year ran as the most widely
syndicated columnist in Georgia. Thanks, guys. I
couldn’t have done it without you.
Kudos to Georgia’s senior senator, Johnny
Isakson, for his fight against proposed tariffs by
the Trump Administration on Canadian news
print, which could severely cripple the newspa
per industry by making newsprint insanely
expensive.
Isakson says, “Local newspapers are a vital
source of news and community information,
especially in rural and small-town America.
Unfair or punitive action taken against producers
of groundwood paper would threaten to put
many Georgia newspapers out of business.”
Virtually, the entire newspaper industry is
opposing the import tax. You should, too. No
community is made better without a local news
paper. Thankfully, Johnny Isakson is on the case.
Finally, Dr. Raymond Cook, an English
Literature professor who had a profound impact
on an unfocused college freshman about to flunk
out of school, turned 99 years old last week.
Dr. Cook lives in Valdosta and while his body
is a bit frail, his mind is as sharp as ever. I don’t
want to over-dramatize it, but I doubt I would be
where I am today and doing what I am doing had
I not crossed his path those many years ago. It is
a reminder to our public schoolteachers that
while our politicians try to undermine you at
every level, you are making a difference in some
young person’s life. Please don’t give up.
DICKYARBROUGH
Columnist
nnnno
"Yeah, I know just how you feel, Lady.
We all still miss the sales tax holiday!"
Sometimes words and opinions matter
Country.
That’s the word someone used to
describe me lately.
Not because I live in Georgia or
because I have a drawl that people
outside of our region probably have a
difficult time understanding.
But I was called country because I
have a love and compassion for ani
mals, even the undomesticated kind.
I laughed it off and even though I
am pretty sure the person meant it as
an insult, but I didn’t take it that way.
My child on the other hand was not
very happy when he heard the news
and expressed his opinion in a way
that proved he is indeed a descendant
of my family tree.
Mama didn’t like the term either,
but she may have been triggered by
the memory of me being previously
called derogatory terms by the ex-
husband.
“I don’t like that you were called
that,” Cole said.
I shrugged. “It was nothing.”
I had only mentioned it in conver
sation because it was part of the story
I was relaying.
“But what did they mean by calling
you that? It just seems like they were
meaning something a lot worse.”
I imagine they were using the term
as a softer alternative to redneck or
hillbilly, the two phrases my ex-hus
band used to describe my family
because, except for Mama, they all
had blue-collar or labor jobs.
Some of my family members
worked construction, or were truck
drivers, and farmers. To the ex, hard
working people were rednecks.
Being called ‘country’ was meant
to insult me, but it didn’t. Like
Granny, I have no fancy pretenses
about myself and could care less
about trying to act like I am some
thing I am not.
I am not that comfortable in a big
city. Traffic gives me anxiety attacks
and I don’t like being in an environ
ment full of strangers.
r*
SUDIE CROUCH
Columnist
So, maybe being called country is
an apt description.
“I still don’t like it; it was meant to
hurt your feelings,” Cole said.
I appreciated his concern and told
him so, but I had to let him know
there was an important lesson here.
“It didn’t hurt my feelings and I
wasn’t insulted,” I began. “See, for it
to hurt me, I would have to care about
the opinion of the person who said it.
And I didn’t. Words can only hurt us
when we believe them.”
“You always tell me words matter,”
Cole reminded me.
True. They do.
And in this case, the word was
being used in an attempt to make
someone feel bad or inferior.
We have gotten to where we use
words like “country” to label people,
to point out a difference and maybe
separate us in the process.
Our words and language are sup
posed to bring us together and build
us up, not try to tear us down and
apart.
But it sure doesn’t feel that way
lately.
It seemed like everyone was trying
to get a little dig in, any way they
could. We have focused on the things
that keep us divided and make us
scatter instead of what can unite us.
People have forgotten that no mat
ter where we are from, and no matter
the differences, we still belong to one
another.
“So, you don’t care at all that per
son thinks you are country?”
I really don’t.
“But why doesn’t it bother you?”
my child asked.
“What someone thinks about me is
none of my business,” I said. “That’s
their opinion of me and their opinion
is not fact or my character.”
“But what if their opinion of you is
wrong?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said.
That person didn’t really know me,
only what they thought they knew.
“Did what they say about you make
you think differently about them?”
Cole asked.
“No,” I said. “I already had my
opinion about them. Their comment
just reinforced it.”
“What did you think of them?” he
asked.
It didn’t matter. Just like they were
way off base with me, my opinion
was just that and I may be wrong.
“I can think of a few names I
would like to call that person,” Cole
admitted.
I could understand that and told
him so but reminded him that just
served to drag us down to their level.
Even though it may feel good, it
still only served to put a bigger
wedge between us.
“There’s enough name calling
already,” I said. “Instead of thinking
of how to hurt someone, we need to
just say things that can help us find a
common ground, and not declare a
word war.”
So, I was called country. It was not
a total lie. It wasn’t a total truth,
either.
The word didn’t matter; neither did
the opinion by the person who said it.
What was important, was that I was
reminded of how our words can
either unite us or divide, and it mat
ters how we decide to use them.
Sudie Crouch is an award winning humor columnist and
author of the recently e-published novel, "The Dahlman
Files: ATony Dahlman Paranormal Mystery."
You can reach Dick Yarbrough atdick@dickyar-
brough.com; at P.O. Box 725373, Atlanta, GA 31139;
online at dickyarbrough.com or on Facebook at
www.facebook.com/dickyarb.
"Oh, I don't want you to find a scandal about my
opponent. I’m the one that needs the air time!"