Rec­og­niz­ing those who made 2018 a year to re­mem­ber

The Standard Journal - - LOCAL - DICK YARBROUGH

Well, we can pretty much stick a fork in the Year of our Lord 2018. By the time you are through roast­ing chest­nuts on an open fire or eat­ing the last of the left­over turkey, 2019 will come knock­ing on the door. This has been a very good year in one re­spect: I did not read my obit­u­ary and I am guess­ing that you didn’t read yours, ei­ther.

I don’t do New Year’s res­o­lu­tions. For one thing, that is about as orig­i­nal as a broom han­dle. No­body means them. No­body keeps them. It is a waste of pa­per. My ed­i­tors don’t like me wast­ing pa­per. Ed­i­tors can re­solve to be very cranky about this kind of stuff no mat­ter what the time of year.

In­stead, it is my pol­icy to give out yearend awards and to rec­og­nize those in­di­vid­u­als and or­ga­ni­za­tions who have made this col­umn a thing of beauty and a joy for­ever. Bless their hearts.

Our first award is the Run­ning and Gun­ning Award which goes to our Gov.-elect Brian Kemp who won a very close race after run­ning TV ads hold­ing a shot­gun and threat­en­ing a lit­tle dweeb propos­ing to date his daugh­ter, which thrilled all the gun-tot­ers and must have dis­mayed his daugh­ters. I just wish the lit­tle dweeb had told Kemp that he had a Mag­num .357 pointed some­where between daddy’s belt buckle and his knees and one more threat and the dweeb would make him a so­prano.

The Son of a Gun Award goes to all the gun-tot­ers who are giddy think­ing our new gover­nor is go­ing to make guns his top leg­isla­tive pri­or­ity. They are go­ing to be sur­prised when they find out that pub­lic ed­u­ca­tion and ru­ral de­vel­op­ment are likely to be his top pri­or­i­ties — as they should be.

The win­ner of the Nod-Nod, Wink-Wink Award goes to out­go­ing Lt. Gov. Casey Ca­gle, who should have done just that in­stead of blab­bing out loud to a for­mer Repub­li­can gu­ber­na­to­rial ri­val, Clay Tip­pins (or at least to Tip­pins’ hid­den cell­phone) about back­ing an ed­u­ca­tion bill he called bad “a thou­sand dif­fer­ent ways” so an­other can­di­date, for­mer state Sen. Hunter Hill, wouldn’t get a few mil­lion dol­lars from Alice the Wal­mart Lady and her deep-pock­eted, outof-state spe­cial in­ter­est friends. (Turns out that Alice didn’t give the dough to ei­ther.)

The Howdy Doody No­table Quotable Award is pre­sented to state Rep. Earl Ehrhart, R-Cobb, is re­tir­ing after 30 years in the Gen­eral Assem­bly. Mr. Ehrhart is to no­table quotes what Michelan­gelo is to art. In fact, Earl Ehrhart’s quotes are a work of art. He once re­ferred to Casey Ca­gle as “Ed­die Haskell,” the smarmy char­ac­ter on “Leave it to Beaver” which stunned the two dozen peo­ple who still re­mem­bered that show. A group of neighborho­od ac­tivists earned his wrath and the ep­i­thet, “Gla­dys Kravitz,” which stunned the other two dozen peo­ple who re­mem­bered that ob­scure char­ac­ter on “Be­witched.” To op­po­nents who ob­jected to his ef­forts to shield pri­vate con­trac­tors and sub­con­trac­tors do­ing govern­ment busi­ness from Ge­or­gia’s Sun­shine laws, he said, “I think they need to read­just their tin­foil hat.” I couldn’t find two dozen peo­ple any­where who un­der­stood that. He will be missed.

The Golden Half Award is pre­sented to the scholar-ath­letes at my beloved alma mater, the Univer­sity of Ge­or­gia. In both last year’s na­tional cham­pi­onship and this year’s SEC cham­pi­onship, they de­ci­sively thrashed the scholar-ath­letes from the Univer­sity of Alabama for one half. Alas, a close read­ing of the rules of foot­ball in­di­cates the game re­quires two halves and, on oc­ca­sion, an over­time. Bum­mer.

The Tell-It-Like-It-Is Award is the most dis­tin­guished of them all. It is pre­sented to a reader who in 25 words or less can best de­scribe the pos­i­tive im­pact my weekly ef­forts have in mak­ing this a bet­ter world for all peo­ple. This year was a tie. A reader on the Ge­or­gia coast ob­served, “Just be­cause you can write that col­umn doesn’t mean you should” and a de­voted fan in north Ge­or­gia de­scribed me as “a jerk, knee jerk, snail poop, bucket head.” I apol­o­gize if I get emo­tional, but I love this job.

So, one year down and an­other one about to be­gin. As in past years, I prom­ise that if you will keep read­ing, I’ll keep writ­ing (Oops! Was that a New Year’s res­o­lu­tion?) — as­sum­ing this meets with the ed­i­tor’s ap­proval. After all, you and I are a team. Most of all, I wish you peace and hap­pi­ness in the com­ing year and may nei­ther of us read our obit­u­ary.

You can reach Dick Yarbrough at [email protected]­yarbrough.com; at P.O. Box 725373, At­lanta, Ge­or­gia, 31139 or on Face­book at www.

face­book.com/dick­yarb.

Yarbrough

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from USA

© PressReader. All rights reserved.