Letters

Letters 12-14-2014

Come Together There is a time-honored war strategy known as “divide and conquer,” and never has it been more effective than now. The enemy is using it against us through television, internet and other social media. I opened a Facebook account a couple of years back to gain more entries in local contests. Since then I had fallen under its spell; I rushed into judgment on several social issues based on information found on those pages

Quiet The Phones! This weekend we attended two beautiful Christmas musical events and the enjoyment of both were significantly diminished by self-absorbed boors holding their stupid iPhones high overhead to capture extremely crucial and highly needed photos. We too own iPhones, but during a public concert we possess the decency and manners to leave them turned off and/or at home. Today’s performance, the annual Messiah Sing at Traverse City’s Central Methodist Church, was a new low: we watched as Mr. Self-Absorbed not only took several photos but then afterwards immediately posted them to his Facebook page. We were dumbfounded.

A Torturous Defense In defense of the C.I.A.’s use of torture in a mostly fruitless search for vital information, some suggest that the dire situation facing us after 9-11, justified the use of torture even at the expense of the potential loss of much of our nation’s moral authority.

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Andrea Stewart

 
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Monday, May 5, 2008

Slow that train down

Other Opinions Andrea Stewart All that foreign oil
controlling American soil
Look around you, it’s just bound to
make you embarrassed
Sheiks walkin’ around like kings
wearing fancy jewels and nose rings
Deciding America’s future
from Amsterdam and to Paris
And there’s a slow, slow train
comin’ up around the bend

“Slow Train” --Bob Dylan



Thirty years after Dylan recorded those words, I’m driving 55 mph down North Long Lake Road, a hilly, curvy road with a really bad surface and two school zones, and there’s a young guy in a big truck right on my tail. When I don’t speed up, he stomps on the gas, roars around me, and disappears in the distance. Less than a minute later, I pull up right behind him where he’s sitting at a dead stop at a red light. He did get there before I did, though.
I stop at the hardware store and park between two huge SUVs that dwarf my Ford Escort. They’re both empty, the owners inside the store, and they’re both idling.
I pull into the local deli behind a big truck with a plow on the front. The driver hops out and goes inside without turning off the engine. I expect him to make a quick purchase and run right back out, but am surprised to see him seated comfortably at the counter, ordering lunch, his truck rumbling away outside.
 
 
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