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Send a letter to the editor to P.O. Box 1600, Dawsonville, GA 30534; fax (706) 265-3276; or email to editor@dawsonnews.com.
DawsonOpinion
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 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.
Starting an untraditional tradition
I used to marvel at
Granny’s Thanksgiving tur-
key-ing.
Golden brown on the out
side and moist and deli
cious inside.
I had no idea how she did
it, and she wasn’t sharing
her secrets with anyone.
Her turkey was so deca
dent one could eat it free of
gravy and without any of
the accompanying sides. It
was good enough to stand
alone.
When I finally decided to
try my hand at cooking the
bird, I did a decent job.
Even the old gal said so
herself, although she had
thrown in her commentary
about what she would do
differently.
“Did you thaw your bird
out long enough, Sug?”she
asked, her tone telling me
she thought I had not. “And
next time, make sure you
cook it longer on low,
instead of trying to rush it.”
My husband only had
Granny’s turkey a couple of
times before she quit mak
ing it; I don’t think my
child ever had the honor of
blessing his taste buds with
it. A deprived childhood, in
my opinion.
My child only had memo-
SUDIE CROUCH
Columnist
ries of disgusting
Thanksgivings.
The year Granny put the
turkey in the pressure cook
er, yielding a mess that the
evil beagle refused to eat,
and she ate, well, I am sure
you know what beagles eat.
The following year,
Mama ordered something
equally uneatable.
The next year, I tried
ordering a complete dinner
that was supposed to be
already cooked and just
needed it reheating.
Cracker Barrell made the
dinner the following
Thanksgiving.
While tasty, it felt weird
not to have a carcass to
shove back into the fridge
when we got done.
Thanksgiving, which is
usually such a joyous holi
day marked by eating and
football, had become a day
where we dreaded eating.
“I don’t really like tur
key,” Lamar confessed
when I was trying to figure
out what to make this year.
If I was honest, I didn’t
either. If it wasn’t
Granny’s, it wasn’t really
fit to eat.
“As far as I am con
cerned, we can just have
the sides,” he continued.
“What kind of sides are
we talking about?” Cole
wanted to know.
“Well, you have to have
potatoes,” Lamar began.
“Two kinds of potatoes,”
I said. “It is Thanksgiving.
It is completely acceptable
to have two kinds — some
kind of sweet potato and
mashed.”
They agreed.
“Mac and cheese?” I sug
gested. Both nodded.
“Peas?” Cole added.
Of course, peas. You
can’t have mashed potatoes
and not have peas.
“Some kind of roll,”
Lamar offered.
I nodded, wondering
which would be best: bis
cuit or roll.
“What about dessert?” I
asked.
“Pie,” Lamar said.
“What kind?” I asked.
“Apple,” Lamar said.
“I don’t like apple.”
“I do. Cole does,too.”
“Cole likes any pie,” I
said.
“What kind do you like?”
“Pecan, lemon meringue,
or key lime.”
“Maybe cake?”
“I can make a cake,” I
agreed.
“Do we need anything
else?” Cole asked.
“Like what?”
“Could you make salm
on?” he asked.
I could. Salmon cro
quettes sounded better than
turkey and wouldn’t take as
long.
“So, our menu is a bunch
of sides, salmon croquettes,
and cake?”
They both nodded.
“Neither of you will miss
turkey?”
Both shook their heads.
“Alright. That’s what
we’re doing.”
A turkey-less
Thanksgiving is what it will
be. And with it, the begin
ning of an untraditional tra
dition.
Sudie Crouch is an award win
ning humor columnist and
author of the recently e-pub-
lished novel, "The Dahlman
Files: A Tony Dahlman
Paranormal Mystery."
We all have something to be grateful for
As I was casually brows
ing the web, a writing con
test caught my eye.
Entrants needed to formu
late an essay answering the
question “Should we be
grateful?”
My short answer is, yes.
I spent the weekend won
dering what others might
have said in their essays. I
would especially love to
read the essays arguing that
we shouldn’t be grateful
just to see what they had to
say.
I believe we all have at
least one thing to be grate
ful for every day, and that
one thing might vary from
one person to the next.
I can count my blessings
and express my gratitude
for things in my daily life
that make the days worth
living.
When I wake up, I’m in a
nice, warm bed I call my
own, in a house I own with
my husband. I drive around
the corner to my office and
I have the ability to write
stories about topics I care
about in this community.
When I am feeling blue,
I can pick up my cell
phone and call my mom
and dad to catch up and
talk about our days.
On days when my
Rheumatoid Arthritis sends
me into a flare, I can reach
JESSICA TAYLOR
Columnist
for my pain medication and
do my Humira injection
and go about my day rela
tively pain free. Sometimes
I feel so good I can even do
light to moderate exercise
in the evenings.
On weekends I am fortu
nate to use my photogra
phy skills volunteering at
the Humane Society of
Northeast Georgia where I
get to meet and play with
so many wonderful dogs
looking for their forever
homes. I even had the
opportunity to be locked in
with a bouncy Chihuahua
mix named Mario during
the Adoption Angel Lock
In event in August, giving
me a firsthand look at what
it’s like to live one day as a
shelter dog.
When I am hungry, I can
cook a meal in my kitchen.
If I’m not feeling up for
cooking, I can drive down
to grab a bite at a fast food
joint.
When it’s time to wash
dishes, do laundry and get
a shower, I have clean
water and I never have to
worry that there won’t be
any hot water.
Throughout the day I
often think of my husband
who works hard every day
to teach the next generation
and how fortunate his stu
dents are to have a teacher
who cares so much about
them. Then I think about
all of the teachers and pro
fessors who inspired me
along the way who helped
me get here.
When I look to my right,
I can see the thank you
notes I’ve received from
individuals thanking me for
writing and sharing their
stories with the communi
ty.
When the holiday season
comes around every year, I
get to visit with family and
friends I love so dearly. I
get to see my grandparents
who have played such an
important role in my life.
When I log into
Lacebook, I get to chat
with the incredible friends
I’ve made across the coun
try, sharing a strong,
unique bond we have a
hard time explaining.
When my friends need
advice or a shoulder to cry
on, they come to me where
I can provide them comfort
in any matter or concern on
their mind.
When it’s time to make a
difference in this commu
nity, state and nation, I
have the ability to cast my
vote and play a vital role in
shaping the America we
want to live in — some
thing other countries do
not have.
When I say my prayers
and sleep soundly at night,
I know it’s because men
and women fight every day
overseas and on our soil,
law enforcement and emer
gency services personnel
work around the clock to
keep us safe.
And when I open my
eyes and take a deep breath
in the morning, I get to live
another day in this wide,
wonderful world.
It may not always be per
fect, but I wake up know
ing somehow I can make a
difference.
Gratitude looks different
for everyone, and when I
take stock of what I am
most grateful for I do so
knowing that even people
reading this column do not
have the same items on
their list.
Everyone has something
to be grateful for, even if
it’s just waking up and see
ing the sunshine.
Jessica Taylor is the education
and features reporter for the
Dawson County News.
LETTER TO THE EDITOR
Remembering
to give thanks
for a writer s
inspiration
Any mention of Thanksgiving — which I
am about to mention — must first include a
caveat that no one ever has or ever will
write a Thanksgiving column like Lurman
Bisher, the late and great sports editor of
the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. He owns
that category like Ray Charles Robinson, of
Albany, Georgia, owns “Georgia on my
Mind.”
I am thankful
for the times I
spent with
Lurman and his
wife, Lynda, in
their home over
looking the
marshes of St.
Simons Island
as we watched the sun set, enjoyed a crack
ling fire, an adult beverage and listened to
stories of everybody from Ty Cobb and
Shoeless Joe Jackson to Jack Nicklaus and
Bobby Cox. He knew them all.
A few of his successors have attempted to
replicate Bisher’s Thanksgiving column,
but they have all turned out poor imitations.
This one likely will be no better but it’s the
thought that counts. Some of you will see
this after Thanksgiving Day, but that is OK.
I haven’t checked the rule book but I think
it is permissible to be thankful all day,
every day.
I am thankful I live in a country where
we can dispute election results but don’t
have to worry about tanks in the street. I
pray that never changes.
I am thankful for an automobile that tells
me how to get to where I am going, honks
at me if I leave my keys in the car and
warns me when my tires need air. All the
stuff I used to have to do myself.
I am thankful for good health, particular
ly after a period in which I didn’t have it. I
discovered I was not as invincible as I
thought I was and hope I never forget how
fragile life really is, particularly when it is
your own.
I am thankful for our military and for our
first responders, and I would hate to think
of the world without them.
I am thankful for dogs that don’t bark just
for the sake of barking. I have always
thought that a dog’s IQ could be measured
by how little it barks. And if it does bark,
watch out because it means it.
I am thankful for people like state Sens.
Lindsey Tippins of Cobb County and Jack
Hill of Reidsville, two of the wise men in
the Legislature. In these days of shout-
down, camera-mugging ideological politics,
they quietly and effectively do their jobs
and give me faith that we can still get good
people to run for public office.
I am thankful for smells: freshly mowed
grass, com muffins in the oven, talcum
powder, roses.
I am thankful for sounds: A child’s laugh
ter, a trout stream, Chet Atkins’ guitar,
Handel’s “Messiah.”
I am thankful for my church and the peo
ple within who have loved and supported us
through some dark days. My spiritual lead
er, Bill Burch, currently has the assignment
of trying to lead me not into temptation but
deliver me from evil. It is full-time work.
I am thankful for the chiming of the
grandfather clock during the night. Lor
reasons I don’t quite understand, it gives
me reassurance that everything is OK and
to go back to sleep.
I am thankful for our public school
teachers. We expect them to shut the doors
on society’s ills and teach kids how to read
and write and think. Somehow, they do it
despite of all the obstacles we put in their
path and I thank God for them.
I am thankful for a family better than I
deserve, including in-laws. They have
taught me over the years that success isn’t
measured in how many awards you win
but in whether or not you have earned their
love and respect. I think I have but I don’t
know how.
I am thankful I have had an opportunity
over the past 20 years to share my
thoughts with you on everything from
broccoli (I hate it) to the University of
Georgia, the oldest state-chartered univer
sity in the nation, located in Athens, the
Classic City of the South (I love it.) And
that you tell me when you agree and when
you disagree. I am also thankful to the edi
tors who make it possible for us to meet
like this.
Linally, thank you, Lurman Bisher, for
the inspiration for this column. You can
rest easy, my friend, that I did my best but
didn’t come close to your legendary
Thanksgiving columns. Lor that, we can
all be thankful.
You can reach Dick Yarbrough atdick@dickyar-
brough.com; at P.O. Box 725373, Atlanta, GA
31139; online atdickyarbrough.com or on
Facebook at www.facebook.com/dickyarb.
'But everybody else
is doing it'
I was about 10 years old and I had
just learned to cuss. I thought I would
try out a dirty word on Momma. So I
said it right at her and the conversa
tion at dinner stopped. Then my
daddy hit my shoulder with a slow
straight right and I knew I had
crossed the “dad line.”
“You don’t talk like that,” he said.
“But everybody else is doing it,” I
replied as I got off the floor.
And then I got the standard “if
everybody jumped off a cliff would
you do that too?”
I had jumped out of a pretty tall
tree once so a cliff did not seem like
such a big deal, but I had enough
sense not to say yes.
I see in the news that a full grown
Letter policy
senator of the United States did not
have as much sense as I did at 10. He
said, and I kid you not, that because
the president set the tone of the
nation we should expect others to be
crude and mean. That senator still
needs a more forceful dad.
I agree that President Trump says
things that he aught not to say and
tweets things that are better left unsaid.
Almost all his tough talk is in
response to some smart mouth attack
upon him. He is a verbal counter
puncher and if you leave him alone
he will leave you alone. But the left
rags on him all the time.
He is not a bully by my definition.
He is just loud and from New York
where that is pretty standard behav
ior. If you spend a lot of time in New
York City you will find that verbal
confrontation is normal and you sort
of get used to it. They don’t really
mean anything by it and are very nice
people underneath that big city blus
ter.
A real bully does a lot more than
talk. They club, beat, stomp, cut and
shoot. And they run in large packs.
Trump has not run anyone out of a
restaurant. He has not gone to some
one’s driveway and yelled and
screamed. More importantly he has
not adopted the brutal tactics of Hitler,
Stalin, the old Japanese military, Ho
Chi Min, Pol Pot, ISIS or the Taliban.
We need to tread carefully.
Provoking language is a fuse on a
cannon. Harsh words will lead to
hard deeds. Real violence could start,
and if it does, it will engulf us all.
Gary Pichon
Marble Hill
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Road, fax to (706) 265-3276 or email to editor@dawsonnews.com.
DICKYARBROUGH
Columnist