So I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time

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If you ever wondered why your local paper was so hacky, I may have a simple answer for you. The editorial staff quite likely has an average age of 107 and still thinks the “talkies” are a fad.

Many a columnist at a local paper is a “retired” editor who needs a hobby in between mall walking. What this means to you, the reader, is that a) you are getting a viewpoint that crystallized during the Coolidge Administration and b) you are not getting the viewpoint from a younger, hungrier writer. It’s a win-win all around.

How do you know your columnist once saw Ty Cobb play in person? A good hint is when they write about their GREAT-grandchild and then proceed to give you a Grumpy Old Man rant. Here is one Mr. Bill Shipp of the Gainesville (GA) Times.

Emily Grace came sweeping into our house in her little pink basket Sunday to inspect her great-grandparents for the first time. She must have given Reny and me high marks. She giggled and smiled during most of the visit. She only made a face and cried when bottle time ticked around.

You may ask, is he really unpleasant enough to attack a man for cooing over his great-granddaughter? Of course, I am. I’ve spent 34 years aging my bitterness in oaken casts. It would be unfair not to share it. Hell, bosie just went after a Priest.

Actually, Emily Grace sounds like a lovely child and has a wonderful name. My only job here is to point out that Mr. Shipp is the Ancient Mariner.

That Reny and I are great-grandparents makes both of us gasp, as well as smile. When I was a child, I knew only briefly one of my great-grandmothers who kept me entranced with tales of Sherman’s marauding soldiers at the end of the Civil War. Reny did not know hers at all.

The Battle of Atlanta was 144 years ago. Just sayin’.

I can hardly believe our present “great-grand” status. I can’t get used to a granddaughter who is a mother and a daughter who is now a grandmother. Or a grandson-in-law, who is a Marine sergeant just back from his fifth tour of duty in Iraq.

And a niece who designs web pages. And a nephew who came out at Thanksgiving. And a second cousin who once drove to Alabama naked on a bet. It’s okay. My grandpa used to ramble too.

And when an old person starts rambling, you know the insane rant is coming. Let’s get it started.

When E.G. figures out the world a little better, she might wonder why our government allows uninsured or indigent patients to use hospital emergency rooms as their primary health care provider. That is nuts. The most expensive hospital operation, the emergency room, is being used to provide low-end medical care. Why do we not establish “free clinics” for mild sniffles and bug bites?

Why has our state decided to strip funding for mental health care to pay for other less worthy state services?

Okay, first interruption. I actually find myself nodding in agreement here. These are two good column ideas buried in a bunch of nonsense. I do, however, have a feeling that his definition of “less worthy” varies greatly from mine.

E.G. will have to fret about her education almost right off the bat. Her parents must wonder whether any public schools, which are fit to serve E.G., will be left. I think not.

No schools will be fit for little EG. That’s harsh, grandpa. You managed to get an education even after Sherman burned the school to the ground. If the South can rise again, so can PS 105. Also, one of those sentences is almost certainly not grammatically correct.

What happened to immigration reform? For a while illegal immigration was seen as the nation’s most serious problem. Now it is seldom mentioned.

Somewhere, Lou Dobbs weeps. His life’s work is being ignored.

Why do most people feel that their congressmen, once elected, show up with split personalities — one good-old boy presented to his voters back home, and another fast-talking slick-oh reserved for his D.C. constituents who keep the campaign cash flowing?

We have now entered, well, a place where reason and lucidity do not reside. The only thing missing from this description of politicians is Mr. Shipp calling them “No-account, lily-livered cowards.” By the way, I picture him dressed as Colonel Sanders while making this point.

Anyway, today’s lesson is babies are cute and old people are crazy. Have a good life, Little EG. The world ain’t such a bad place.

He used to laugh when I called it the "Silver War."

Probably in the same way I laughed at my last birthday party, when my great granddaughter said I was old enough to be an octopusian.

Small town local paper editorial sections are a trip, aren't they? Awhile back I was shaking my head at one complaining about skateboarders. I swear to God they had a "Love Is..." cartoon on the same page.

Struck me odd a little while later, I was visiting Anaheim and reading the Orange County Sentinel. And I swear to got their editorial page, with readership millions strong, was every bit as podunk stupid. And I'm pretty sure those fuckers were boomers.

My theory is that right-wing writers at small town papers have a lot more influence than, say, EJ Dionne. So, it's important to know what is out there.

And it's amazing how many 1000-year-old writers there are for these papers.

but I do not find that to be true of our local paper at all.

Many new young writers start out around here, and move on to larger cities. But the editor of the our local paper has been here about fifteen years. She is around forty.

The most widely read newspaper in our county is edited by a person who is younger than that. I haven't met him. I have met the advertising manager, who is under thirty.

:rofl:

and I too have a grand nephew just back from Iraq. I have never tied an onion to my belt in my life.

However I may have done this:



God, I hope I don't sound like that pompous ass when I speak.