Newscoma

I was talking to an elected person the other day where we discussed a variety of things over lo mein.

It was a philisophical conversation where minds weren’t changed on some subjects, where a few revelations about new media were discussed and where I was asked where the term Hoots came from. (It’s quite simple actually. Twitter only has 140 characters and Hooterville was just too damned long.)

I only bring this up because I heard the term “Marriage of Politics” and I’ve been rolling that over in my cranium for the last few days. Yes, of course there is a marriage within the political infrastructures we see, which reminded me of Willie Herenton’s “I’m not a deal maker” quote from last week. Sometimes I find tenious connections in the oddest of places.

As Independence Day rolled around where we celebrated meat, beer and friendship with our families, I saw an article  from John that made me think very clearly about what we should want from our elected politicians and sometimes what we get. His thoughtful post is a must read.

In this odd world of northwest Tennessee, I have run out of fingers for  the people I know that have become unemployed in the last six weeks. I don’t know how this is going to be rectified quite frankly. I feel a new normal being created before my very eyes.

I wonder how a “Marriage of Politics” might be used to save pockets of people that some might not feel are worthy of saving. I see folks I’ve known my whole life who worked diligently since they were were old enough to fill out a job application and  are now gobsmacked by having to ask for government assistance during this depression (which it is), I hope my elected officials will find those they are “married” to in creating policies which will assist and not divide.

One of Perry County’s biggest disadvantages comes from not having adequate roads is an example of how we can look to the future. With plants doing buyouts and “downsizing” its operations, jobs are first and foremost in the minds of many.  NAFTA’s “marriage”  took manufacturing plants, corporate agricultural entity’s own more farms than those people who have worked their land for centuries and we are looking at a census here which will show that the jobs available are not sustaining an already very limited population.

The conversation that I had on Friday was left with the agreement that we would be the last of our two centuries of ancestors, most likely, to live in Hoots not by choice but by realities. Many will leave. It’s that simple. Our children cannot return to an area where the possibilities are so limited.

I repeat, its that simple.

As I looked at out the expansive and impressive farmland that is owned by Squirrel Queen’s family yesterday morning, I felt bittersweet and sad. It remains locally owned but for how long?

Alas, I may have finally become a cynic or the rose-colored glasses have turned to the color of the sky before a thunderstorm.

Answers are not easy.