| If for some strange reason you are not reading Jack Cawthon's CAWTHON'S CATHARSIS under COLUMNS on the
Herald, it is time to not miss out, starting now. Here are a few samples to entice you:
HUR HERALD COLUMNIST ADMITS BIG PUF STORIES FABRICATED .... Not only did the Times end up with pie
on its face, with its modest "All the news that's fit to print," which in my own days of page make-up I incorporated with
some condensation to "All the news that fits," but the New Republic followed suit.
As both publications are the hotbeds of liberals (I have known conservatives who have traded overnight their ideals to be so
bedded) there must be something about liberalism that is catching, often resulting in "caught in the act."
I have found that most liberals don't live in a real world anyway, so what is the harm in reporting unreality? Ergo, I have
again painted myself into a corner. If I have been doing the same thing myself, then, horrors, does that, please say it Ian't so,
make me a gasp, choke, snort, one also? (This self-analysis is good for me, of course, going along with the regular
therapy.)
Take Big Puf, please. The folks down there love my reporting and think I'm a celebrity, which they interpret as leading a
pure life like a priest or Michael Jackson. Fortunately, most of them can't read and those who do wouldn't be caught dead
reading this stuff, except for Arley Cleeter, a grad school dropout. Arley has often insisted that I write a book, but knowing
Arley's dependence on the written word for winter fuel, I somewhat doubt his motives..... read more under COLUMNS.....
CHANGE DOESN'T ALWAYS MEAN PROGRESS ..... The past Saturday I found myself back on a country road
leading to our family
cemetery up Owens Run from Lockney. It's maybe three miles of what once was dirt and mud, with the road in the run for
much of the way, but which is now a nicely graveled road relocated where it once followed the run. Our little car with low
clearance never touched bottom at any time.
If the road is a symbol of change over the years, then the cemetery itself has complemented it. Years ago we all tended the
graves ourselves, mowing as much of those surrounding ours as we were able, knowing that our neighbors would do the
same for us.
There were tall trees, bushes and shrubs, and natural flowers providing shade, blooms and fragrance for that quiet place.
Decoration Day, as we called it, was then on May 30, but on a Sunday closest to it folks from all around would gather at that
hillside burial ground for singing and a preacher who often conducted a revival meeting instead of a benediction. As a kid,
whatever he did always seemed too long as I yearned to be playing with the other kids..... Read more under
COLUMNS....
BEHOLD I SAW A SIGN ⦠I saw a sign in the Morgantown Public Library down in the basement where the used book
sales are held. It was placed on top of a box of paperback books, but it caused me to think that if the sign were placed on
billboards, shown on TV as a public service, and, most of all, printed in bold type on marriage license applications, the
divorce rate, which runs about 50 percent of marriages, could be cut significantly. "Don't mix mysteries with romance," the
sign proclaimed. Intriguing, huh?
An announcement I heard on radio put me on guard. It was a warning issued by the National Weather Service. "If flood
waters rise, move to higher ground." I wondered how much the Federal study behind the warning might have cost, although
I really shouldn't have, as I once received a paycheck based on such government studies. But I have never bragged about
my work background, now have I?
I consider myself a conservationist, and as most conservationists nowadays would qualify as liberal-hmm, let's see, what am
I boxing myself into? In my Institutional therapy I once worked with some people who called themselves "land use
specialists." To simplify, but not much, they believed that if I didn't manage wisely land that I owned, then it should be taken
from me and allotted to those who would, of course, meeting standards set by-guess! ... Read More Under COLUMNS
|
