Sinners Unite!
You have been maligned, trashed and have had your pockets picked by government goody-two shoes for too long now. Anytime a rising politician or millionaire wannabe gets an idea in their head they look for other peoples money. In their latest quest for funding construction of a Summit County, Ohio new soccer stadium, they are mouthing the ole sure-bet way - TAX THE SINNERS!
I think it's time they got creative and announced alternative plans - TAX THE SAINTS! Now I have absolutely no idea which saints they should go after. Perhaps my readers could offer some. Tax those who go to church on Sundays? Perhaps roadblocks could be set up and drivers and passengers asked, "Do you smoke?" If they proudly announce they don't, "aha, we got another saint boys."
What about volunteer organizations as alternative sources of tax revenue for a new soccer stadium? How about the Salvation Army? We know where to find their volunteers at Christmastime. Empty their pockets, those darn saints.
Let's see, oh yeah, why not the Saint Vincent de Paul Society? Why, every can of food or piece of clothing donated and distributed could be counted with a percentage of the value given to build that new stadium. Coats for Kids? Toys for Tots? Why, the limitless possibilities are just beginning to fire my imagination.
Maybe my readers can offer insight and inspire politicos with other ways to take money from saints. Well, at least those saints who are left with a job these days.
Editors note - the writer is a non-smoker.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Monday, October 16, 2006
The Job I Didn't Get
Driving through Cleveland's "Collinwood" this week, a door to a 1960 memory was suddenly opened.
Just out of high school at the age of 17, wheeless and jobless, I enrolled with the Ohio Bureau of Employment Services in the hopes of finding some work. A position was open at a company on Saranac Rd. I informed my dad of this opportunity, asking him what was the best way to get there by bus. He told me to go ahead and make the appointment; he would see that I got there.
I made an appointment to fill out an application, interview and take their written test. Dad, indeed, was helpful getting me there. I rode over in the backseat of his powder blue Cleveland Police detective car. It had black tires and a shotgun fastened upright, just beneath the rear view mirror. His detective partner rode along with us.
On time for my interview, I was deposited at the door and went inside to go through the routine. All the while I was inside, company employees inside the office were going to the window, peering out to the parking lot, and remarking, "What are they doing out there?" and "Who do you think they're looking for?" Even though Dad and his partnerhad "Detective" written all over them, the shotgun was definitely agiveaway!
Focusing on the written test, the word was unspoken about my transportation arrangement. After finishing the test and interview, I left, got into the back seat of the vehicle and we drove off.
I never heard back from that prospective employer......they probably presumed I was being returned to a juvenile detention facility!
Just out of high school at the age of 17, wheeless and jobless, I enrolled with the Ohio Bureau of Employment Services in the hopes of finding some work. A position was open at a company on Saranac Rd. I informed my dad of this opportunity, asking him what was the best way to get there by bus. He told me to go ahead and make the appointment; he would see that I got there.
I made an appointment to fill out an application, interview and take their written test. Dad, indeed, was helpful getting me there. I rode over in the backseat of his powder blue Cleveland Police detective car. It had black tires and a shotgun fastened upright, just beneath the rear view mirror. His detective partner rode along with us.
On time for my interview, I was deposited at the door and went inside to go through the routine. All the while I was inside, company employees inside the office were going to the window, peering out to the parking lot, and remarking, "What are they doing out there?" and "Who do you think they're looking for?" Even though Dad and his partnerhad "Detective" written all over them, the shotgun was definitely agiveaway!
Focusing on the written test, the word was unspoken about my transportation arrangement. After finishing the test and interview, I left, got into the back seat of the vehicle and we drove off.
I never heard back from that prospective employer......they probably presumed I was being returned to a juvenile detention facility!
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Multi-Culturalism, A Double-Edged Sword
MULTI-CULTURALISM -A DOUBLE-EDGED SWORD by J.C. Sullivan (576 words)
Checking in at The Cloisters, Sea Island, Georgia, I learned my roommate was a peer from our Birmingham, Alabama office. Possessing a life-long curiosity about people, names and places, I eventually asked him about his background. “American,” he replied. Well, so was I.
Pursuing that question regarding his particular ethnic background, I was surprised to learn that he didn’t know. Having grown up in Cleveland, Ohio, a town sometimes called EthniCity, I was always mixed in with various nationalities that were closer to their roots than the gentleman from Birmingham. My friends were first and second generation Polish, Hungarian, Irish….you name it.
I fondly remember the first time I was exposed to the wonderful aroma of John Amato’s sisters baking Italian bread in their West 127th Street home. Eating it fresh from the oven with a slice of tomato on it was a pleasure I remember clearly to this day. From John I learned of the existence of a Sicilian volcano, Mount Etna. Later in school, when I named it as a volcano my teacher did not know, she incorrectly perceived me as a genius (or so my Aunt Marge said).
During those formative years, in school and at home, we were not taught any prejudices against other nationalities. We were, and remain, American first. Oh yes, we were closely allied with our ethnic background, but we were American. Cleveland had its Polish, Czech, Irish, etc, social organizations for sure, and our families, for the most part, had fun and support belonging to them.
We lived in a wealthier nation then. The post-World War II American economy was the world’s model. Jobs were plentiful for those who sought work. And, our families had paid their “dues.” Today, however, things are different.
The State of Georgia recently passed legislation banning illegal immigrants. The government reported their state had the fastest-growing illegal immigrant population in the nation. In Stillmore, a poultry plant was raided and 120 illegals were rounded up and bussed to immigration courts in Atlanta. According to an AOL on-line poll, 77% of Americans support the action. Broadcast television recently covered pro-immigration rallies in American cities. Many Americans, like me, perceive the people who, for example, hoist Mexican flags at these rallies, as a people wanting to be Mexicans in America. We perceive this to be very different than being an American of Mexican descent. Internet images of the American flag flying upside-down on a California high school only served to fuel anti-immigrant anger. Oops, did I say anti-immigrant? I meant to say anti-illegal immigrant anger.
We are witnessing the “polarize the issue” game. And anyone with a camera and microphone is supporting the immigration agenda without regard to the difference. Americans are NOT anti-immigrant. We all come from immigrant backgrounds. We are, however, anti-ILLEGAL immigrant. We now have in this nation hundreds of thousands of unknown people who we know nothing about. They are unschooled, unvaccinated and come with the only clothes on their back, like many of our ancestors. Today, however, they carry half-gallon plastic bottles of water, which later double as urine containers on freight trains. Some of these illegals are criminals and murderers.
Differentiating the two issues would clearly set a path for us to follow. The message to immigrants and our government is this – get in line and come in the front door!
Sullivan is a freelance writer residing in northeast Ohio.
Checking in at The Cloisters, Sea Island, Georgia, I learned my roommate was a peer from our Birmingham, Alabama office. Possessing a life-long curiosity about people, names and places, I eventually asked him about his background. “American,” he replied. Well, so was I.
Pursuing that question regarding his particular ethnic background, I was surprised to learn that he didn’t know. Having grown up in Cleveland, Ohio, a town sometimes called EthniCity, I was always mixed in with various nationalities that were closer to their roots than the gentleman from Birmingham. My friends were first and second generation Polish, Hungarian, Irish….you name it.
I fondly remember the first time I was exposed to the wonderful aroma of John Amato’s sisters baking Italian bread in their West 127th Street home. Eating it fresh from the oven with a slice of tomato on it was a pleasure I remember clearly to this day. From John I learned of the existence of a Sicilian volcano, Mount Etna. Later in school, when I named it as a volcano my teacher did not know, she incorrectly perceived me as a genius (or so my Aunt Marge said).
During those formative years, in school and at home, we were not taught any prejudices against other nationalities. We were, and remain, American first. Oh yes, we were closely allied with our ethnic background, but we were American. Cleveland had its Polish, Czech, Irish, etc, social organizations for sure, and our families, for the most part, had fun and support belonging to them.
We lived in a wealthier nation then. The post-World War II American economy was the world’s model. Jobs were plentiful for those who sought work. And, our families had paid their “dues.” Today, however, things are different.
The State of Georgia recently passed legislation banning illegal immigrants. The government reported their state had the fastest-growing illegal immigrant population in the nation. In Stillmore, a poultry plant was raided and 120 illegals were rounded up and bussed to immigration courts in Atlanta. According to an AOL on-line poll, 77% of Americans support the action. Broadcast television recently covered pro-immigration rallies in American cities. Many Americans, like me, perceive the people who, for example, hoist Mexican flags at these rallies, as a people wanting to be Mexicans in America. We perceive this to be very different than being an American of Mexican descent. Internet images of the American flag flying upside-down on a California high school only served to fuel anti-immigrant anger. Oops, did I say anti-immigrant? I meant to say anti-illegal immigrant anger.
We are witnessing the “polarize the issue” game. And anyone with a camera and microphone is supporting the immigration agenda without regard to the difference. Americans are NOT anti-immigrant. We all come from immigrant backgrounds. We are, however, anti-ILLEGAL immigrant. We now have in this nation hundreds of thousands of unknown people who we know nothing about. They are unschooled, unvaccinated and come with the only clothes on their back, like many of our ancestors. Today, however, they carry half-gallon plastic bottles of water, which later double as urine containers on freight trains. Some of these illegals are criminals and murderers.
Differentiating the two issues would clearly set a path for us to follow. The message to immigrants and our government is this – get in line and come in the front door!
Sullivan is a freelance writer residing in northeast Ohio.
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