About Dawson County news. (Dawsonville, Georgia) 2015-current | View Entire Issue (May 22, 2019)
PAGE 11A 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, MAY 22, 2019 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. Its hard to be influential around Skeeter Skates When the telephone rang, I knew who it was. It was Skeeter Skates. The phone just sounds different when he calls. He can be intimidating, even to a telephone. For those of you who may be new to this space, Skeeter Skates is the owner of the eponymous Skeeter Skates Plow Repair and Stump Removal in Ryo, Georgia, only never use the word “eponymous” when talking to him. He doesn’t like big words. “Hoss,” Skeeter barked, “What’s all this stuff about you having written up a bunch of fancy col umns? Folks here in Ryo was talking about it at coffee the other morning, like it was some kind of big deal.” I told Skeeter that I had just published my 1,000th syndicated column. I’m sure that is what they were referring to. “Well, I guess I ought to be congratulat ing you,” he said, “but that don’t sound like much of a big deal to me. You take apart a DR PRO XL Stump Grinder with an 11.7 HP engine, 19.6 foot-pounds of gross torque and tungsten carbide-tipped grinding teeth and put it all back together and then you will have done something worth brag ging about.” I said maybe I couldn’t do that but that I had made some very important contribu tions to society as an influential newspaper columnist. I am proud to say that I had helped mold public opinion on some of society’s most critical issues over the past two decades. “Hoss, let me ask you a question,” Skeeter interrupted, “In all that time you’ve been molding public opinion on some of society’s most critical issues, did you ever get any grease under your fingernails or cal luses on your hand?” I told him I did not. Although when I first started writing, I had an electric typewriter and always seemed to get my hands smudged replacing the ribbon. Now that I am using a computer, there is the possibility of carpal tunnel syndrome and I occasional ly take an aspirin to ward off the discom fort. I want Skeeter Skates to understand that writing columns is not as easy as I make it look. “Have you ever changed the carburetor in a 208cc Briggs and Stratton engine on a Yardmax YT4565 Dual Rotating Rear Tine Tiller,” he asked, knowing what the answer would be. No, I said. You don’t need to know a lot about carburetors to mold public opinion. “Maybe you should,” he said. “Folks might take you a lot more seriously if you dropped in some carburetor talk, like what a float chamber does or choke valves, instead of always running on about politics.” Now it was my turn to scoff. I said it was my keen understanding of the political envi ronment, not carburetors, that had earned me my reputation as a molder of public opinion. “If you are so important,” he said, “how come you can’t stop that ol’ orange-haired boy who is supposed to be running the country up in Washington from spending so much time insulting everybody and picking fights with that bunch of weenies in Hollywood?” I said the president doesn’t listen to me and to please not use the term “weenies” because that gets me in trouble with liberal weenies who don’t like to be referred to as — well — weenies. “And what about that big-shot politician over in Blue Ridge who calls himself a law yer but is so busy running around raising money to get himself reelected, he ain’t got time to get to the courtroom?” Skeeter inquired. “Have you molded some public opinion about that?” I’m trying, I said, but he has a lot of friends in high places. “You ain’t in a high place?” Skeeter asked. “I thought you was influential and all that other stuff you was bragging about.” I am influential, I protested, but when you are always battling the possibility of carpal tunnel syndrome, molding public opinion can take more time than one might imagine. Skeeter said, “Hoss, let’s face it. You are writing a bunch of stuff nobody is paying much attention to. Unlike the plow repair and stump grinding profession, what you do is about as relevant as a turnip. Now, if you will excuse me, I’ve got to get back to work. Since I moved my eponymous enter prise to Ryo, I’ve got more business than I can shake a Toro-compatible stump tooth at.” With that he hung up. I am irrelevant? Skeeter Skates is epony mous? Well, knock me over with a four- barrel carburetor dash pot! 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. "So you had to walk to school in the snow? Well let me tell you about the Governor vetoing mandatory recess!" My granddad is someone I really want to brag about My grandfather was a very quiet, modest man. Other than bragging about his only grandchild’s grades, he was not one to boast. In fact, he was a man of few words, keeping most of his thoughts and opinions to himself. Of course, he didn’t get many opportunities to say much. He was married to Granny, after all. and trying to get a word in edgewise with her was a near impossible feat. If she wasn’t fussing, com plaining, or otherwise letting us know what we had done wrong for the entirety of our lives, she was telling us what she did. Granny was a master at tooting her own horn, and for the most part. Pop let her, even though if anyone else did it. he found it obnoxious. “Can’t no one else do what I do, Bob,” Granny would comment on occasion. “I don’t get near enough credit for what I do.” “No. you don’t. Chicken,” he replied. “You know I was smart enough to be a nurse,” she would tell him. “I bet I could have been a doctor, if I set my mind to it. I know what’s wrong with all of y’all just as good as the doctor does now. I am usually the one that tells the doctor what y’all got. And I know how to treat it.” Granny’s cure-alls were typi cally either moonshine or SUDIE CROUCH Columnist Milk of Magnesia. Sometimes, in that order. My grandfather, being a wise man, just nodded and agreed with her. Anytime she did something, Granny let us know about it. “My recipes are going in the cookbook,” she said proudly one day. The cookbook was one my school had put out as a fund raiser. She didn’t realize - or maybe she did -that every one’s recipes were included. “I bet mine will be the most popular ones in it.” she con tinued. “I’m sure of it,” Pop agreed. If you had asked what Pop had done with his life, he would have just simply said he had a family and that was it. But he had done a lot of things he didn’t talk about. He went to college on a track scholarship before he quit and joined the Army. He served in World War II. He had his own successful roofing business up until he couldn’t work any longer because of Alzheimer’s. But most importantly, my grandfather did something one day that was such a rare occurrence, there should be a day set aside in his honor. He was married to the Crazy Redhead Prime; and one day. he rendered her speechless. It had never been done before, and I don’t think it was ever done again, at least not to my knowledge. When she came home, her usual “I reckon speech was cut short. It was one we had heard hundreds of times. After sewing all day in the plant where she worked, she had to come home and pick up the house and cook dinner for us ungrateful heathens. All we did was sit around and watch T.V. according to her. Never mind the fact I was doing homework and the only reason Pop was there was to watch me after school. Granted, we did have our afternoon soaps on and were eating a liberal amount of candy, but it was far from heathenous. But this day, Pop had an idea. “Let’s do something special for Granny,” he said. “What?” “Let’s pick up the paper that is all over the den, maybe even sweep. You can dust.” I took in a sharp gust of air. “Granny never dusts; it would be the death of us, she says.” He nodded, knowing good and well the old gal did not believe in dusting as it stirred up her allergies. “Alright, we’ll pick up the den and sweep. She’s got something in the crockpot; you think you can make bis cuits?” I nodded. I wasn’t sure what was in the crockpot, but Granny always found biscuits an acceptable side to any meal. “We’ll have this all ready for her when she gets home. It will be nice for her to come home and just be able to rest,” he said. Then he grinned, a slow, wicked little grin on his tanned face. “And we may get a break, too.” He was right. Granny came home to a clean house and dinner that was ready to eat. She had absolutely nothing to fuss about. He had made her happy. Most importantly, and signifi cantly, he took away all of the reasons she had for complain ing. If that wasn’t something to brag about, I don’t know what was. But in true Pop fashion, he never said a word. Sudie Crouch is an award winning humor columnist and author of the recently e-pub- lished novel, "The Dahlman Files: A Tony Dahlman Paranormal Mystery." 'After sewing all day in the plant where she worked, she had to come home and pickup the house and cook dinner for us ungrateful heathens. All we did was sit around and watch T.V. according to her. Never mind the fact I was doing homework and the only reason Pop was there was to watch me after school. Granted, we did have our afternoon soaps on and were eating a liberal amount of candy, but it was far from heathenous.' LETTERTOTHE EDITOR Speculative develop ment is not smart development Any benefits to our county from the Etowah Village project are all purely speculative and are dependent on investment in, and completion of, all phases of this project. Currently, by admission of the proj ect engineer, there is only some inves tor interest in Phase 1 (which includes a multi-story hotel). This phase may have raised $7-$12 million, not the $700 million to $1 billion needed to complete the entire buildout over a 10+ year period. Where or who are these multi-million dollar investors? To complete the “grand parkway” through to Etowah River Rd. (as part of the final phase of the project?) would be mega expensive but crucial to the success of this development and would also require the blessings of the Corps of Engineers (for the bridge) and Fish and Wildlife for the environ mentally sensitive wetlands. Granting the rezoning for the entire area does not conform to Dawson County’s Comprehensive Land-Use Plan. Any variation from this should be predicated by proof of secured investments for all phases of the development with sunset clauses and completion bonds required. Additionally, agreement must be secured for the protection of the environ mentally sensitive wetlands and conser vation of any identified native Indian ancestral sites that this development would impact. Not to do so would risk far larger negative outcomes for our county than just another incomplete proj ect and massive traffic congestion on already increasingly busy roads. It would provide a gateway for similar uncon trolled, speculative developments to fol low suit leading to a loss of the very hab itats and cultures that make this county desirable and different from Cumming, Alpharetta and Gwinnett unless safe guards to speculative developers are rap idly put in place and adhered to. Jane Graves Dawsonville
