IMMIGRATION CONFLAGRATION AGITATIONS

Tis the season of "BIG" things; storms, events, wars and issues.

Inevitably, these things show up and plop themselves down in our national living room whether we invite them in or not.

And as inartful and inarticulate as the current administration has recently been, they get my credit for at least having the political courage to try to get something done about them as, in the end if allowed to fester, the 'getting done' will be done in panic as opposed to thoughtfulness.

Of course, they have been, even with majorities in both houses, ineffective in pushing anything through and that's another story, not about political will but about political effectiveness.

Does anyone out there think that Social Security, Immigration, the Tax Code, Medicare & Medicaid, national Energy Policies don't need overhauling? The Alfred E. Newman "What, Me Worry?" approach is stupid, dangerous and insulting to the public, yet our guys and gals in D.C. cannot get their acts together.And that's why storm clouds, big, black, angry ones, are on the horizon and they, more and more, seem to be spelling out a big move often called jeeringly, "Throw The Bums Out." Reap the whirlwind...

Some thoughts on Immigration, rambling though they may be:

I went to local hardware store for some this and that this weekend. Place was full of people of all stripes, builders and carpenters in muddied trucks with gunracks grabbing an extra day of productivity in the nice weather of a Saturday, weekend yuppie warriors in their Hummers and convertibles picking up their 'honey-do' lists, old-timers lingering at snack bar with CocaCola and Nabs, kids jumping off bikes, chomping on boiled peanuts, fishermen buying coolers.

And as I stood at the checkout counter with my degreaser and AC filters, amidst all the mess that sits next to the cash registers, gum, candy, 6 in 1 tool kits, penlights, etc., there was something new.

It was a little pocket-sized book, entitled, "Construction Spanish". It was a little, handy book of useful, helpful. effective words and phrases and sentences that are now so totally part and parcel of our American economy. Right here in little, old, burgeoning Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina was a quick shot of reality.

A lot of the folks wandering through Ace Hardware on Coleman Boulevard are mad about illegal immigration, immigrants in general, the mongrelazation of our culture, the stresses on our public schools and hospitals and social services. They want a wall built along the border between us and Mexico (Anyone hear the spinning in the grave of Ronald Reagan, anyone hear the still-resonant echoes of, "Mr. Gorbachev, Tear Down This Wall !" ?), they want these people to stop coming, to go away, they want troops arrayed on the border (What about those pesky, persistent Canadians and their 3 times longer border?).

Many of these are the same folks that nod sternly in agreement with the likes of State Representative John Graham Altman who gets his fifteen minutes of fame on national television again by proposing that illegals be banned from winning SC State Lottery proceeds. (Sounds nice but think about it-the lottery has been a boon to the state's educational scholarship system but with North Carolina's new lottery siphoning 20% of our action away, funds available are dropping and now John Graham wants to keep more people from playing, people of the most modest means who play a lot in hopes of hitting the jackpot so they can make it, as they are already trying to do, in the freedom of America.)

Many of these are the same folks that celebrated Cinqo de Mayo all weekend long, chowing down on chips and queso, swilling cervesa and sangria and margaritas and mumbling 'Arriba!' as the fog of the evenings' passings clouded their hijacking of yet another culture's holidays and celebrations. (Actually, Cinqo de Mayo isn't a very big deal south of the border but in typical American expansive hedonism, we've quickly co-opted and inflated it. How many out there even know what it celebrates? I do and it aint much, I promise.)  Let's see. St. Patricks Day, Columbus Day, Japan Town, China Town, Beer and Brats before the Panthers play, Blues Festivals (Now there's a crowd who didn't come in here illegally! Hell no! We dragged them here in chains and shackles as slaves.), the list is a long one.

Truth be told, we've had a big, gaudy, flashing neon sign lit for a long, long time, flashing to all the world to come to the Greatest Nation on Earth!; her GodMother sits beautifully in the entrace to New York Harbor and to now tell people, legals, illegals, whomever, wherever, Stop! is about the same as King Canute ordering the seas to recede. Good Luck.

These people are fleeing local poverty and seeking the fervent hope of a better life.There are no more crimnals in their midst than we've already homegrown here.

And just by the way, the cheap, industrious labor they provide sure is helpful at getting the buildings and houses built, the roads paved, the lawns cut, the parking lots swept, the hotel and motel rooms and their sinks and toilets cleaned and at non-inflationary prices. Send 'em back, they cry. Fine. Who will do that kind of work as cheaply, as effectively, as willingly? Maybe John Graham needs a second job...

So, the hypocricy of the GateClosers and DoorShutters strikes me as obvious and silly and kneejerk demagougery. Calls to mind the words of a fellow, from France I think whose name I cannot recall, "The law, in its majesty, is made to keep both the rich and the poor from sleeping under the bridges of Paris."

Yes, we need to do something and I think the President's proposed guest worker program has great merits and indeed too needs tweaking. So, it's time for Senators Frist and Reid to get to work and stop their laughable, damnable, pitiful preening and forge a bill that can begin to calm and better control this roiled up ocean of hope and fear.

Because it's like this.

As I left the hardware store the other day, I watched a big white guy lumber into a Really Big Ford diesel pickup truck loaded with bags of cement and four very young hispanic fellows sitting on their haunches in the back bed, already wet and sweaty from the ongoing day's work. As he gunned it on green out across Coleman heading up past Causey's Barber Shop, a very impolite, politically incorrect thought crossed my mind.

"Wetbacks and Greenbacks for him. For a lot of us."

It is now an inexorable, fixed relationship. It's here. Deal with it.                                                                                                   

EVFG