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PAGE 4A —THE MADISON COUNTY (GA) JOURNAL. THURSDAY. JULY 21. 2016
Opinions
I’ve never been
much of a dog
person — until now
I’ve never considered myself an animal lover.
I grew up have an occasionally puppy, goldfish,
and even a duck, but I've never been one to get
attached to animals.
In 2006 my daughter, 8 at the time, decided
that we needed a puppy in our home. After a few
weeks of searching, we finally found the puppy
she was happy with. A Shih Tzu puppy just old
enough to take away from her mother was our
new family member. A four-legged ball of white
fluffy fur quickly became known as Jenny named
by my daughter who took the name from the
movie Forrest Gump. I’m still not sure how that
name from a certain movie crossed her mind, but
we stuck with it. Jenny became part of the family
pretty quickly and over the years she went from
the chewing everything in sight stage to a mature,
well-trained dog who greeted us with running
wild spells each time we came home. Even
though I really was never real thrilled of a dog for
a pet and had it not been for my daughter Hannah,
I would have never chosen to get one, but I grew
to like this four-legged member of the family over
the years and I found myself attached to Jenny far
more than I thought I could be.
We made attempts to take Jenny on trips such as
to my parent’s house in Augusta, but after several
bouts of car sickness, we decided that long trips
were out of the question for her. Each trip to the
vet or to be groomed Jenny would sit in the seat
shaking with fear as if she was headed to be given
away. At home she served as our secret alarm sys
tem as her bark would sound so vicious that one
would think she was a mean as a junkyard guard
dog. But as most knew she was all about the bark.
Not a bone inside of her was vicious enough to
attack a stuffed toy of hers much less a person.
Knowing she was alert and keeping an eye on the
outside made us know that she was watching out
for us and pretty much doing her job.
Despite her ability to get on my nerves from
time to time, Jenny was a good dog and proba
bly less appreciated by us because we took for
granted that we knew she would greet us with
total excitement and she was expected to obey our
orders and even knew she knew my tone towards
her meant business at times when she irritated me.
At the same time, she also knew our tones of
excitement when that well-known game of fetch
would take place throughout the living room or
our play fights when she used her teeth in a play
ing way but didn’t seem to understand when to
stop clamping down; all part of the fun.
Just a couple of weeks ago, 11-year-old Jenny’s
health began to fail her. In just two days this
playful, full-of-energy dog laid lifeless on our
living room floor. No longer would the sound
of the doorbell send her into frantic mode. We
began to come home to silence with no greeting
at the door. As it turned out, we would be looking
for her on our return home instead of her wildly
greeting us. In just three days, we were forced
to have her put down due to kidney failure. She
was gone that quick. The ending reminded me of
the hit movie Marley and Me. Everything ended
— See “Bordon” on 5A
The Madison
County Journal
(Merged with The Danielsville Monitor
and The Comer News, January 2006)
P.O. Box 658
Hwy. 29 South
Danielsville, Georgia 30633
Phone: 800-795-2581
E-mail: zach@mainstreetnews.com
ZACH MITCHAM, Editor
DALLAS BORDON, Sports reporter
MARGIE RICHARDS, Reporter/Office Manager
MIKE BUFFINGTON, Co-publisher
SCOTT BUFFINGTON, Co-publisher
FRANK GILLISPIE, Founder of The Journal.
Jere Ayers (deceased) former owner
of The Danielsville Monitor and The Comer News
Periodical postage paid at Danielsville, Georgia 30633
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THE MADISON COUNTY JOURNAL
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- The Official Legal Organ of Madison County, Georgia
- Periodicals postage paid at Danielsville, Georgia 30633 (USPS
011-097; ISSN 1074987X)
What if there was a ‘Brexit for the Internet?’
I told a 23-year-old recently
that if there was a “Brexit
for the Internet,’’ I would vote
“leave” not “stay.”
Yes, the Internet is amazing
in so many ways. Yes, I’m
a smartphone addict. Yes, the
forward march of technolo
gy will continue whether we
like it or not. The Luddites
won’t win. I understand these
things. Still, if put to a vote,
I’d scrap the Internet — not
in an apocalyptic fashion, not
a power-grid collapse kind
of way. I mean, if we could
move back to older times in
a gradual, healthy way, I’d
be good with it. I’d take the
Internet withdrawal symptoms
I’d surely have. I’d get rid
of my fantasy teams and my
compulsive checking of sports
stats. I’d subscribe to 13 mag
azines once more instead of
reading so much news on my
phone. I’d listen to television
weathermen again instead of
checking phone apps. I’d go
“Googleless,” perhaps pur
chasing an encyclopedia set
again. I’d call the librarian
when information was just
too hard to find. (That was a
pre-Internet reporter move). I’d
sacrifice all Facebook “friend
ships.” I’d go to the bank, rath
er than do it online. I’d look at
catalogues, not eBay. I’d mail
letters with stamps. I’d give
up reading long-winded polit
ical arguments between angry
folks online who’ve never
met - and not feel the
despair that always sinks
in after reading such verbal
trainwrecks. I’d never be a
sucker for 10 child-stars-who-
aged-poorly-(y ou ’ U-never-be-
lieve-number-seven) clickbait.
I’d never see people I know
broadcasting views and feel
ings that depress me. I’d never
contemplate the “likes” versus
lack of “likes” for what I have
on my Facebook wall — the
self-loathing that accompa-
By Zach Mitcham
ny such things: “Why do I
even care?” But then I find
myself caring. Ugh! Without
a smartphone, I’d never have
to check my work email and
could detach myself from the
job much easier. That would
be great. That’s also why I
can’t actually scrap it.
I told the 23-year-old guy
that I’d vote “leave” if there
could be a “Brexit for the
Internet.”
“You mean, go back to the
Stone Ages?” he asked.
This really made me laugh.
Because for someone who
was not there, the pre-Internet
age must seem like that — the
“Stone Ages.”
For me, the “Stone Ages”
included the phone in the din
ing room at my house. There
was a yellow dial phone on the
wall between the dining room
and living room with about
a 12-foot cord. We still give
my mom a hard time, because
one year when we came home
from vacation, there was a foul
smell in the area of the phone.
My mom put a bag around
the phone. And so for years,
if something smelled funny,
we’d joke that it was time to
“bag up the phone.”
That phone was a portal out
of my childhood. I first used
that phone to connect with
a golf buddy in the fifth and
sixth grade. We’d play golf all
day in the summer, then talk
about it at night. My father
would walk by, mocking my
conversations with Jason;
“bogey, par, birdie, bogey,
bogey.” That’s how our con
versations went. We were both
obsessed with golf. And we
didn’t want to talk about any
thing else.
Later, the phone was for
talking to girls. But this was
horribly awkward. My par
ents could hear it all. I would
sometimes try to stretch the
cord into a nearby bathroom
and shut the door, but I’d have
to stand right by the bath
room door, unable to move.
Desperate for privacy, I’d
whisper, but wouldn’t be
heard on the other end of the
line. I’d call a girl, but I’d get
her mom or dad, and have to
wait for them to call her to the
phone, where she could also
sit without privacy, her parents
knowing that Zach called yet
again.
There was no caller ID. You
answered the phone or never
knew who called. It could be
an emergency. So the phone
had to be answered. As a teen,
some of my friends became
prank-call masters. One would
pretend to be a radio personal
ity, having the person on the
other line believing they were
live on the radio and answer
ing trivia questions for prizes.
The prank-call — probably for
the better — has gone away
with caller ID now every
where. But it was a source of
laughs in my teen years.
Now, of course, phones are
so different. They are pocket
computers. They are connec
tions to each other and the
world. They often get more
attention from us than the peo
ple around us. I’m not into the
Pokemon craze. A co-worker
explained it to me. And I can
see how it could be fun. But
I’m not interested. It seems too
time-consuming. But it seems
to represent a real generational
split. For those who grew up
with the Internet, the integra
tion of a digital game into real
life seems totally natural. For
many of us who didn’t grow
up with that, it holds a type of
alien aspect that is unsettling.
And now I’ve crossed anoth
er divide. I recently got my
daughter an iPhone. She’s
headed to the middle school
this year and we need to be
able to reach her. But to give
myself more peace of mind,
I did a totally “dad” thing. I
wrote out a contract and made
two copies, one for her to
sign and keep and one for us
to keep.
It’s short. It goes like this: “I
understand that this phone is
a privilege, not a right. I may
lose this privilege at any point
for any duration if my parents
determine that it’s necessary.
I understand that I will not
have privacy with this phone
until I turn 18. That means
that my parents can see any
thing I do on this phone and
monitor all of my activity. I
understand that they are doing
this because they love me and
want to protect me. I under
stand that my parents will
set restrictions on this phone.
These restrictions will be in
effect as they see fit. I will not
argue about the restrictions.”
Good luck with the “no
arguing,” right?
This contract is simply my
way of emphasizing, “This is
serious business.” This world,
this Internet. It’s not to take
lightly. It is beyond her under
standing — and, well, mine
too.
Yeah, this makes my stom
ach hurt. For sure, I would
gladly vote “leave” on “Brexit
for the Internet.”
I’d take that old, yellow
phone with odor problems. It
was much simpler, even if it
was the “Stone Ages.”
Zach Mitcham is editor of
The Madison County Journal.
It’s safer to stay away from a convention
You can understand why
people were reluctant to attend
the Republican national con
vention in Cleveland’s Quicken
Loans Arena this week, or for
that matter the Democratic
convention coming up in
Philadelphia next week.
This is a dangerous time to
be in an urban environment.
Every time you turn on a TV,
it seems, you’re inundated with
images of police shootings or
terrorist bombings or attempt
ed coups by the military.
You’ll often see similar vio
lence on display at the rallies of
Donald Trump, the Republican
nominee, with Trump urging
his supporters to beat up recal
citrant protesters.
On top of all that. Republicans
are holding their quadrennial
convention in Ohio, which is
an open carry state. There are
several white nationalist groups
in Cleveland planning to show
their support for Trump and
just as many or more groups of
anti-Trump protesters.
All of them can legally
carry assault weapons on the
streets of the host city, which
leaves one with the unpleasant
thought of bullets flying as the
roll call of the states is held to
officially confirm the presiden
tial nominee.
You also might be hit up
for a contribution by desperate
party officials trying to close
a $6 million funding deficit
caused when corporations like
The
Capitol
Report
tcrawford@
capitol
impact.net
By Tom Crawford
Atlanta’s own Coca-Cola with
drew their sponsorship of the
event.
Small wonder, then, that so
many senators, congressmen,
and former presidents decided
they would skip all the fun by
staying away from their own
convention.
Nebraska Ben Sasse, who
most definitely is not a Trump
fan, sent word through his
spokesman explaining his
absence from Cleveland:
“Sen. Sasse will not be attend
ing the convention and will
instead take his kids to watch
some dumpster fires across the
state, all of which enjoy more
popularity than the current
front-runners.”
Arizona Sen. Jeff Flake had
the most pragmatic reason for
not attending the convention:
“I’ve got to mow my lawn.”
None of the Bushes are
there and neither are the two
most recent GOP presidential
nominees, Mitt Romney and
Arizona Sen. John McCain.
Dick Cheney isn’t there either.
Georgia’s representatives in
Washington weren’t nearly
that squeamish about attend
ing. U.S. House members like
Buddy Carter and Tom Price
showed up as did Georgia’s
two senators. Johnny Isakson
and David Perdue.
Gov. Nathan Deal pledged
several weeks ago he was going
to Cleveland and he’s been
joined by such state figures as
Attorney General Sam Olens,
Public Service Commissioner
Lauren “Bubba” McDonald,
House Speaker David Ralston,
Lt. Gov. Casey Cagle, and
Secretary of State Brian Kemp.
Perdue not only went to
Cleveland, he is one of the few
elected officials who doesn't
look with dread towards the
November election. He’s
been predicting for a while
that Trump will prevail over
Democrat Hillary Clinton.
“I know an outsider when
I see one — someone who is
listening to us,” said Perdue
during the recent state GOP
convention. “He’s complain
ing about the very people we
complain about — politicians,
bureaucrats, the media. He can
win Michigan and Mississippi
on the same day. When does
that ever happen?”
State Sen. Bill Cowsert
(R-Athens) waxed philo
sophical about the road trip:
“Cleveland. Ohio, is famous
for corned beef sandwiches, the
Rock and Roll Hall of Fame,
and the 2016 Republican
National Convention,” he said.
“This week, I’m proud to say
I’ll get to enjoy all three.”
Cowsert is also being a good
sport about the decision of
Republican primary voters to
go with Trump, a choice that
does not sit well with many of
the party’s establishment fig
ures.
“The Republican voters have
had their say and we chose
Donald Trump as our nom
inee,” Cowsert said. “As a
Republican, as a Georgian and
as an American who respects
our electoral system. I will rep
resent the people who are send
ing me to the convention and I
will cast my ballot for Donald
Trump.”
With or without the elected
officials, the parties will go on.
It’s hard to say that anything
of substance ever happens
at a national convention, but
they’re still an important ritu
al of the presidential election
season. You can think of them
as infomercials for American
democracy.
I’m watching the proceed
ings on TV as I always do.
However, I’m doing it at a safe
distance from Cleveland and
Philadelphia.
Tom Crawford is editor
of The Georgia Report, an
Internet news service at gare-
port.com that reports on state
government and politics. He
can be reached at tcrawford@
gareport.com.
WANT TO SUBMIT A LETTER TO THE JOURNAL?
Email us at: zach@mainstreetnews.com. Or you can mail
a letter to us at P.O. Box 658, Danielsville, Ga. 30633, fax us
at 706-795-2765 or drop off a letter at our office across from
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