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DawsonOpinion
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16, 2021
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.
If Ga. is so bad,
why is everybody
moving here?
You may be
interested to know
that you reside in a
dumper of a place
called Georgia.
That revelation
comes courtesy of
TOP Data, a mar
ket research com
pany with offices all over the world including
Atlanta, the capital city of what they consider
to be the 35th worst state in the nation in
which to live. That’s us.
According to TOP Data, “The pandemic
enabled millions to work remotely for the
first time ever causing a once in a generation
reshuffling of how Americans work and
where they choose to live. To determine
which states have adapted best to serve this
remote world, the market research company
conducted an in-depth analysis of the Best
and Worst States to live in 2022.”
TOP Data compared the 50 states across
eight dimensions: affordability; crime and
safety; economy; education; health care;
infrastructure; opportunity and quality of life,
using 76 “relevant metrics” that are, to be
kind, eye-glazing.
As a result of their number-crunching, they
say, “Georgia ranked as one of the worst
states to live in with 56.35 points, as it ranked
in the bottom half of the rankings on nearly
every indicator, despite having higher scores
in infrastructure and job opportunity.” To
which I say, “kiss my grits.”
Before I became your modest-and-much-
beloved columnist, I spent a number of years
in the communications business and was pro
ficient enough to have been recognized as
one of the ‘TOO Most Influential Public
Relations People of the 20th Century.” OK,
so maybe it was a slow century for influential
public relations people, but I must have done
something right.
What I didn’t do was send out a release to
people like me who love Georgia and who
write a weekly column that runs from one
end of this great state to the other, informing
me that Georgia ranks as one of the worst
states to live in.
What I would have done is to fire whoever
at TOP Data came up with this stupid and
pointless and insulting exercise. If this is a
new business pitch offering to extricate us
from the morass in which they find us, they
missed badly. I wouldn’t hire them to orga
nize a corn-shucking.
Here is one example: In the quality of life
category, they measured the number of peo
ple employed as bartenders and related drink
services per 100K people. We come in 25th.
Evidently, they failed to give points for a sun
rise on St. Simons Island, which beats how
many bartenders we have by a mile. Not to
mention Vidalia onions or “Georgia on my
Mind,” as sung by Ray Charles Robinson, of
Albany, Georgia.
By contrast, TOP Data ranks Wyoming —
which has fewer people than Gwinnett
County and, according to World Population
Review, a negative growth rate of 0.60% per
year — as the best state in which to live.
Vermont, which is less populated than Cobb
County and also has a 0.60% negative growth
rate and who I seem to recall was recently
paying people to move there, is their No. 2.
New Jersey (No. 7), Connecticut (No. 12)
and New York (No. 19) also are showing
negative growth rates, says the World
Population Review, while 35th ranked
Georgia is the eighth fastest growing state in
the nation, adding more people last year than
North Dakota’s (No. 6) total population.
I have carefully examined TOP Data’s 76
relevant metrics (inhale) graded on a 100-
point scale with a score of 100 being the
max, which determined each state’s weighted
average across all metrics to calculate its
overall score, and used the resulting scores to
rank-order its sample (exhale).
Nowhere could I find a metric about peo
ple moving here from places where it snows
10 months a year and all their buildings are
rusted. Long before there was a TOP Data to
inform us how Georgia and our Southern
neighbors are some of the worst states in
which to live, my daddy observed how many
tax dollars we wasted painting lines down the
middle of our highways. That was because
nobody moved north. They all came south.
They still do.
TOP Data finishes its analysis of the Best
& Worst States To Live In by informing us
that it “delivers business, consumer, and mar
keting insights at the speed of breaking
news.”
Here is some speedy breaking news for
TOP Data: In my own in-depth analysis of
the Best and Worst Pieces of PR Rubbish to
come across my desk, yours is the worst.
And it didn’t take me 76 relevant metrics to
figure that out.
You can reach Dick Yarbrough atdick@dick-
yarbrough.com; at P.O. Box 725373, Atlanta,
GA 31139; online at dickyarbrough.com or on
Facebook at www.facebook.com/dickyarb.
SPECIAL PELlVEKf
Love a hobby or leave it, your choice
Mama asked
me the other
day how long I
took piano les
sons.
“Eight years,”
I said.
“Are you
sure?”
“Pretty sure.”
“I don’t think that’s right.”
“I started in first grade and
quit at the beginning of ninth.”
“Hmmrph,” she chirped.
“So you took it that long and
can’t play a note?”
I wouldn’t go that far.
I know where middle C is.
But that’s about it.
Despite taking piano for all
those years, it was not some
thing in which I excelled.
Granny had called and
begged my music teacher.
Mrs. Roberts, to let me take
lessons, promising her I was
musically inclined and a dedi
cated student who would
devote my life to piano.
I remember sitting on the
foot of Granny’s bed as she
made the call and thinking at
the time she was going a wee
bit overboard. I wanted to take
piano, but wasn’t so sure
about all this lifelong devo
tion.
Mrs. Roberts relented, and I
started my classes the next
week.
It was pure bliss at first. She
came and got me out of class
and we walked down the nar
row hall where an upright
piano took up a room about
the size of a closet where she
taught piano lessons at school.
She commented I did seem
to have a natural ear for music
and gave me some
music to take
home.
The following
week, she asked me
if I had practiced.
“What?”
“The music I
gave you last
week? Did you practice?”
I was shocked. I thought
that was like some sort of
prize.
“I don’t have a piano at
home.” I said.
“You’ll need one to prac
tice.”
“How often will I need to
practice?” I asked.
“Every day.”
I had no idea there was
homework involved in this.
What had Granny signed me
up for?
“I need a piano.” I
announced when Mama
picked me up.
“What do you mean?”
“For my classes.”
“Can’t you play the one at
school?”
“I have to practice at home.”
Mama wasn’t happy about
having to shell out the money
for the piano, but let me tell
you something, I was even
less happy about having to
practice every day, too. So that
monetary pain was minimal
compared to that.
“You can get in there and
practice instead of watching
t.v.,” Granny told me one
morning before school.
“But
She cut me off with her
glare that would stop a rhino
in its tracks.
“You heard me. Your mama
is paying good money for
these lessons, she bought you
a piano. You get yourself in
there and practice.”
I whimpered. My morning
routine was easing into my
day with a bowl of Fruity
Pebbles and watching some
Three Stooges.
She gave me the glare again
and I whined out an “alright”
in agreement.
“Bob, go listen to her,” she
ordered my grandfather.
He sighed, not knowing
why his routine of watching
t.v. had to be disrupted, too.
I sat on my bench and start
ed picking out the keys from
the music.
When I stumbled to find my
notes, he asked almost too
eagerly if I was done. “No. I
messed up.”
“Oh.” He was looking for
his exit route. “Bobby, come
listen to your niece play!”
Always supportive, my
uncle came into the living
room, ready to listen.
After a few notes, he said,
“Oh, heck.” That’s the closest
to a swear he ever uttered. “I
gotta go do something real
quick.”
“What have you got to do?”
my grandfather asked.
“Just something else.” “Did
I do good?” I asked.
“You did, baby, real good.
Keep practicing.”
My grandfather and I
locked eyes, a certain under
standing growing between us.
“You tell your grandmother
I sat here and listened to you
play a whole book of music
and I’ll tell her you sat here
and practiced. Deal?”
I nodded slowly. I was six.
but I knew a dang good deal
when I heard it.
“Deal, PawPaw.”
He got up and went back to
watch TV and drink some
more coffee.
I heard him ask Granny if
Mama was really paying for
me to take lessons.
“She needs to get her
money back,” he muttered.
“What?” Granny asked.
“Nothing. She’s doing good.”
Even though I love music, it
was not something I ever got
the hang of. When I showed
up for a lesson shortly after
the beginning of my freshman
year, I could tell my music
teacher was a bit disappointed
that after so many years, I
wasn’t further along in my
abilities than I was.
I looked at the bench, the
sheet music, and the keys and
decided then and there, it was
time to quit.
“How can you quit after
you’ve been taking lessons
this long?” Mama asked when
I told her that afternoon I
wasn’t going to continue.
I sighed.
Sometimes, just because
we’ve done something a long
time, doesn’t mean we have to
keep at it if it’s not right for
us.
Sudie Crouch is an award win
ning humor columnistand
author of the e-published
novel, "The Dahlman Files: A
Tony Dahlman Paranormal
Mystery."
SUDIE CROUCH
Columnist
COVID cases drop; Ukraine faces dire conditions
By Dr. Larry Anderson
Anderson Family Medicine
The good news first. Our metro Atlanta flu activity is
minimal, only a 1 out of 1-13. We have no outbreaks in our
area. Good job on taking the flu vaccine and wearing the
mask. The other good news is our COVID cases are still
coming down. We still have people in the hospital with
COVID. It is still with us so we do not need to encourage it
to stay any longer. Get your vaccine and wear your mask. It
is not over until what’s her name sings.
Now the bad news. Health issues in the Ukraine. Death.
The news footage looks like it is out of WWII. Digging a
trench and throwing the bodies in. Some are in body bags
and some are not. The morgue is full. There is no storage
room. You have to do something. Disease from exposed
dead bodies could be rampant. No other choice. Shelling
hospitals and killing pregnant women. You are a monster
and must be stopped. Call your US Senator and
Representative and tell them what you think and tell them
to stop this madness. Pray for them and for us. Thanks for
reading.
LETTERTOTHE EDITOR
On the edge
Seems to me that we are on the edge
of a major change in the USA. It is
likely that we will go over the edge.
The edge is the edge of abundant ener
gy. Is our national energy policy going
to drive us into critical shortages of fuel
and electricity?
If we run out of electrical power we
will go without light, food , water,
sewer, and all kinds of transportation.
We will return to a life style of about
1890. It will not be as bad as the dark
ages but it will be an uncomfortable
dim age.
We are led by a political class that is
convinced that we have to move away
immediately from burning carbon in
all forms in order to save the planet.
That means no more drilling for oil or
natural gas and certainly no coal min
ing. They believe that the tooth fairy
will provide some sort of new giant
batteries so we can go completely
green with wind and solar.
That political class is busy disrupting
carbon fuel supplies. Not only are they
using beaurcratic methods to prohibit
permitting, they are using the banking
systems to restrict loans to drilling
companies. They wish to use the tax
system to choke off oil.
War in Europe has disrupted an
already stretched supply system. Much
of our natural gas is now moving to
supply Europe.
Without oil, gas, and coal, electricity
prices will go up and electric power
will be interrupted. Without abundant
supplies of natural gas, fertilizer will be
in short supply world wide. If fertilizer
is in sort supply, all food prices are
going to go up a lot. Food shortages
will happen.
We can drill our way out of this if the
Democrats would allow it. They will
not because they think the treat of car
bon is a greater threat than the threat of
energy shortages.
Gary Pichon
Marble Hill
