David Bowie sang of “Ch-ch-changes.”
Lou Holtz once said: “If you don’t like change, go to a vending machine.” Never understood the profundity of that one. But it makes others chuckle and nod knowingly. Any explanation y’all can give would be much appreciated.
No question all things politics are changing.
This week, there were suspicious devices mailed to nine political figures, a tycoon, a news organization and an actor.
I smell a rat.
As of Thursday, while writing this, none of these devices detonated. As a last gasp of holding on to baseball season, I offer this: If our bomber, targeting far left figures and news organization, wore a baseball uniform, would be 0-for-9.
Hmmm. All duds? Whoever is doing this could show Nixon’s Watergate crew a whole new way to be incompetent. Why not write a book: “How Not to Influence an Election.”
It’s all so transparent. Don’t view me as callous or insensitive, but we really should be looking at the big picture.
For instance: Who financed all those immigrants trekking towards America. Who planned and funded all the transportation, food and sanitation supplies. And some newsies are in a state of nirvana.
Why all the coverage? What say we greet them at the border when and if they get here. That will be news.
Change has hit one of my (used-to-be) favorite cities: San Francisco.
In days of my youths, it was fun to see the hippies in the Haight district. Once, while on a high school trip there, a patchouli oil-scented girl gave me a flower. Nice gesture. But to put it mildly, she would have needed numerous bouquets to cover up her stench.
The once proud city has become a cesspool, literally. The homeless are nasty while panhandling and have taken being stinky to a new level.
A few denizens were on the street, doing something acceptable to do in a stall while reading a paper.
Nope, these folks were letting it all hang out, right there on Sutter Street.
No worries. In a move that cements the city’s weirdness, you can download a “crap app,” take a photo of the pile, send it and the government will send someone to make the mess disappear.
Talk about a lousy job.
I couldn’t imagine that happening here.
“Hey Leroy, before we go into Publix, I gotta go real bad.”
“No problem, Buford. Just cop a squat in front of AutoZone. The mayor’s guys will pick it up.”
First, if anyone thought to do their business on the street, I’m fairly certain Forsyth County’s finest would give them a blanket in that new barred building downtown. Ditto for the city of Cumming’s finest.
In more whacky antics, I arrived smack dab in the middle of a labor tiff. The city’s Marriott hotels were the target. There was an ear-splitting din during all six nights of my stay.
Pot banging (and smoking) maids and others stirred things up a plenty. They hollered, screamed and tried to coerce guests into not checking in. I had a photo taken, while showing solidarity, was as tongue-in-cheek as could be.
The whole scene did nothing to garner support for many guests, but it was a “right on” moment for the left-leaning strikers.
Talk about short-sightedness.
When the dispute is over, these placard-toting strikers have to go back to work.
“Sorry boss about all those bad things I said and did. Can you find it in your heart to give all of us one more chance? And we all promise not to defile the sidewalk out front.”
It would take a lot of understanding and forgiveness.
But not every action will get you a pass.
For instance: Shame on you, Jackie and Georgie.
You had an opportunity to do the right thing for residents.
Thanks to your avarice, we’re getting just what we don’t need or want: more people and more traffic on Buford Dam Road. And it appears there will be apartment houses replacing all that greenery.
A fairway view one day, urban sprawl the next.
Just like San Francisco.
Mike Tasos’ column is published every other Sunday. He thinks as he gets older there is little appeal in traveling to far-off cities. All-in-all, he’d rather be in north Georgia. Comments can be sent to firstname.lastname@example.org. He is also on Facebook.