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i«M T*MoRK«W©20II ...www.thismodemworid.com...twitter.com/tomtomorrow
VOTES WILL COME POURING
WHAT’S UP IN NEW DEVELOPMENT
On the night of Nov. 8, as ballots are being
tallied in local elections around the state, one
of the largest political walls in Georgia should
finally come tumbling down. The last vestige
of the old blue laws prohibiting the transac
tion of business on Sundays—a ban on the
package sales of alcoholic beverages—will
be on the ballot in more than 100 cities and
counties.
Citizens will have the chance to say yes or
no to the question of whether Sunday package
sales should be legal. Regardless of what they
decide, voters will make that choice for them
selves rather than have it dictated by some
outside group or religious organization.
It will be quite a milestone for a state
where the churches held tremendous
political clout for years and kept laws
in place that banned gambling or
the legal purchase of beverages
that include fermented spirits.
The power of the religious
groups has been declining,
however, as more and more com
munities voted to indulge in
what were once regarded as sinful
activities. One of the last major
campaigns from the churches was
the effort in the early 1990s to defeat
the passage of the Georgia Lottery. That move
failed as a majority of the voters approved the
lottery, which left the ban on Sunday package
sales as the last stand of religious conserva
tives. That prohibition would doubtless have
been swept aside several years ago if not
for the opposition of Sonny Perdue, a gover
nor who didn't drink and vowed to veto any
Sunday package sales legislation. With Perdue
gone and a more accommodating person in
the governor's office, it was only a matter of
time before the Sunday sales ban became a
quaint port of the state's history.
There were many people, including me, who
expected to see a spirited campaign this fall
involving the pro-sales faction and the church
groups as we got closer to the date of the
Nov. 8 referendums. That has not happened,
however. The grocery and convenience store
lobbyists who worked diligently to secure
legislative passage of the Sunday sales bill
have kept quiet, and so have the churches and
religious organizations. The media have spent
more time reporting on referendums that won't
happen until next year—the T-SPLOST trans
portation tax—than on the Sunday sales votes
that will take place next week.
"I cannot find one church that will do
anything, even do a bulletin insert, about the
upcoming vote, let alone tell the congregation
about it," said Jerry Luquire, president of the
Christian Coalition of Georgia and a diehard
opponent of Sunday alcohol sales. "We sent
out a mass email—we did not hear back from
one church." It is, he said, "perplexing
to me."
The pro-sales factions sat back
and said voters in each of the
affected communities should
make their own decisions.
"We're letting the local gro
cers in the area decide whether
they want to get involved," said
Kathy Kuzava of the Georgia Food
Industry Association, which rep
resents the state's grocery stores.
"We've always said it's a matter of local
control. Let the local communities decide for
themselves."
At last count, there were 109 local elec
tions scheduled on the Sunday sales issue.
Because this is a municipal election year, most
of the votes are being held in cities. Most of
the county votes on the Sunday sales question
will be held next year.
There could well be a few locales where
the issue is defeated, but I would guess that
a majority of the communities will choose to
allow Sunday package sales of alcohol.
"Obviously, there's a desire to drink, oi it
wouldn't be on the ballot," l uquire acknowl
edged. "I see it passing. This is just the natu
ral progression of things."
Tom Crawford icrawfoul - gareport com
THIS MMIRM W*RL»
by TOM TOMORROW
HELLO, OFFICER FRIENDLY.* ARC YOU
H£R£ TO "PROTECT AND SERVE?
SO WRY DIO THE OFFICER AT THE
OCCUPY DEMONSTRATION IN NEW
York mace the Fleeing women
WHO CLEARLY POSED NO THREAT
TO HIM OR ANYONE ELSE?
AND WHAT A0OUT THE POLICE AT
THE OCCUPY PROTEST IN OAKLAND
WHO SHOT AN IRAQ WAR VET IN
THE FACE Wl T H A "NONLETHAL
PROJECTILE" —
YOU BET I AM.' THAT'S
WHAT THE POLICE ARE
|fOP, YOU know;
WE SAW IT
ON THE
INTERNET.
WELL, THAT'S
DIFFERENT,
Son; those
WERE HIPPIES 1 .
--FRACTURING
HIS SKULL--
—AND THEN TOSSED A FLASH-BANG
GRENADE into the middle of
A CROWD Of PEOPLE TRYING TO
HELP HIM AS HE LAY BLEEDING
IN THE STREET?
YOU KNOW, I THINK THIS COULD
EASILY QUALIFY AS AN "UNLAWFUL
ASSEMBLY,**
SOMETIMES YOU
SCARE ME,
OFFICER FRIENDLY.
WELCOME TO
THE REAL
WORLD, KID.
THERE'S VIDEO
of THAT
ONLINE AS
WELL.*
I'd like to go ahead and state, on the
record, that I am, and have always been, pro
chicken. A backyard that feels more like a
barnyard is a wonderful notion, and the idea
of decentralized agriculture is an interesting
one, especially when it comes to sustainabil
ity. We might not all become master gardeners
and farm animal whisperers, but opening the
door to different types of local food produc
tion will at least allow people to take individ
ual, incremental steps in that direction, based
on their own interests.
The average lot in an older neighborhood
like Cobbham isn't that different in size or ori
entation from most in some of the older sub
urbs, like Cedar Creek or Green Acres (although
you could argue that Cobbham is in fact the
oldest suburb, given its streetcar-line heri
tage). But while these postwar neighborhoods
are the ones filled with "ranches," a look at
the areas surrounding the more historic homes
reveals a fascinat
ingly complex working
landscape, with many
sheds, barns and, yes,
chicken coops enclos
ing backyard gardens,
along with smaller
cottages for the work
ers who tended it all.
While not quite as
complex on smaller
lots with more mod
est homes, the more
stately the house,
the more likely it is
to have three or four
outbuildings gathered
around it.
While there were
small groceries in the
neighborhood that
likely filled many of
the original residents'
needs, there was cer
tainly enough room to provide for others at
home. Even more importantly, these activi
ties had the potential to interlock with one
another into a system. Chickens pecking at
bugs and weed seeds in the vegetable garden
means less work, and less feed for the chick
ens. Is it time to rea ! ly revisit the antiquated
ordinances that outlawed these sorts of com
mon-sense uses that ultimately match many
community values?
The pro-chicken bumper sticker, proudly
displayed on the rears of local station wag
ons, touches on a bigger question, though. In
general, we need to explore how we can suc
cessfully integrate these decentralized strate
gies for food, energy, water and the like. Even
from a utilities standpoint, many properties in
these intown neighborhoods historically had
wells, and privies would have been ubiquitous.
I'm by no means advocating for a return to
the days before plumbing, but there's some
thing to be said for on-site waste treatment,
and new technologies in fields like compost
ing may provide a very effective answer. A
huge infrastructure of pipes strung out along
stream and river banks allows us to avoid
dealing with the issue at home, but that big
and complex system has many more points of
failure, with an immensely greater risk.
The same goes for issues like grey water
and net metering. Turning rainwater falling
on rooftops into potable water, when it would
otherwise go into the stormwater system
as runoff, makes a lot of sense. It takes the
pressure off of two existing infrastructures in
one move, while doubly benefiting rivers,
reducing peak runoff flows and reducing the
demand for water withdrawals. Net metering
of electricity is another example of a strat
egy that gets us closer to a decentralized
approach, while in the meantime reducing the
burden on existing, overtaxed infrastructure.
Unfortunately, our local and state regulatory
requirements haven't quite caught up with
current thinking.
It's not as if Athens will suddenly resemble
a medieval market, with livestock, poultry
and the other sights, sounds and, especially,
smells that go along with these sustainable
strategies. As individuals embrace one or two
of these strategies at a time, we'll absorb the
effects gently, learning or relearning how to
integrate these things into our lives. It'll be
one house on the block, and then two or three
in the next decade or so, with critical mass
likely not coming unless some unforeseen
crisis pushes us back towards victory gardens.
However, the collected effect might be that
as households met 5 and 10 and 20 percent
of their needs onsite, the ability of Athens to
grow—and the economics of that—won't b-e
stretched as much as current rates now sug
gest. With more frequent droughts and fewer
resources all around, we'll h?-*e to do much
more with a lot less if we want to remain an
economically healthy community.
If we can get over the regulatory hurdles
and stop fining folks for keeping a few hens
in the backyard, we might see some interest
ing things start to happen. Those accessory
buildings which now seem so quaint might
suddenly become quite useful again.
How might neighborhoods that postdate
the time when urban agriculture was common
evolve as people take on these new hobbies?
Would the two-car garage ever become a
cowshed? Could swimming pools become fish
ponds or underground cisterns? Would lawns
give way to productive gardens and orchards?
The evidence that these things used to exist
is all around us, from cotton terraces upon
which suburban neighborhoods are built to
remnant pecan groves that blanket entire
blocks. If we stop pretending that this notion
is foreign and reintegrate these old patterns
into our newly built environment, how would
the two merge?
Kevan Williams athensrising@flagpole.com
Intown properties are often home to an array nf outbuildings that once contrib
uted to a working agricultural landscape.
NOVEMBER 2,2011 • FLAGPOLE.COM 7
KEVAN WILLIAMS
