Opinion Page
THE BRUNSWIOCfftACON
Edward M. Sweatt and Carolyn H. Sweatt Publishers
Edward M. Sweatt Eklitor
Lynn S. Carlson Managing Editor
Susan Usher News Editor
Doug Rutter ...Sports Editor
Maijorle Meglvern Associate Editor
Eric Carlson Staff Writer
Peggy Earwood Office Manager
Carolyn H. Sweatt ^Advertising Director
Tlmberley Adams. Cecelia Gore
and Linda Cheers JKdvertising Representatives
Dorothy Brennan and Brenda Clemmons Moore ..Graphic Artists
William Manning Pressman
Lonnle Sprinkle .Assistant Pressman
Phoebe Clemxnons and Frances Sweatt Circulation
PAGE 4-A, THURSDAY, JUNE 25, 1992
River Signs Need
Pictures, Not Words
The need is so obvious it is hard to believe that someone
hadn't addressed it before now.
Ada McDonald, a Vamamtown alderman, brought the situa
tion to our attention last week after encountering a real-life prob
lem. Something clicked inside, she said: This is something we
should have already fixed; we're light years behind the times.
Here in the United States and around the world we have uni
versal symbols for most everything, from public restrooms and
deer crossings to no-smoking areas. Like them or not, they are a
sign of our changing times. The simple visual designs are easy to
understand and cross the barriers of language differences and il
literacy.
But on the river, when signs are posted marking areas that are
closed to shellfishing or other activity, what do we find? Small
posters packed with words, not pictures. Words aimed at a group
of workers among the least likely to comprehend them.
Working the river, like working the farm, is a way of life that
harks back to the days when one didn't need a formal education
to make a living and support a family. Getting by took a willing
ness to work hard, dependability and a good back. It didn't take
much in the way of reading, writing or even arithmetic. A lot of
people didn't take time or even have time to learn those non-es
sential skills.
These days, for people who take pride in earning a living but
don't have much of a formal education, working in the river is
one of the few options open. But without a cohort around who
can read, that person is liable to unwittingly break the law and
face payment of a fine that they, of all people, may be least able
to afford.
As the Brunswick County Literacy Council has learned in its
outreach efforts, those who don't read as well as they need often
will go to extremes to keep others from knowing, even when
their reasons for not being able to read or read well are the best in
the world. Even though plenty of help is available for those who
are able to learn and want to learn, both through free classes and
free private tutors.
Their situation is understandable. How many people do you
know who are brave enough to walk into a courtroom and tell the
judge and audience, "1 got into trouble because I didn't under
stand the sign. I can't read."?
No, the typical person is a lot more likely to find the money
to pay off the fine, at least that first time, and then try to finagle a
way to keep from making the same mistake again.
Most won't seek out help in learning to read until their situa
tion is near desperation, when they needed to know how to read
something of importance yesterday.
Learning how to read those signs is the long-term solution,
but it isn't ever going to apply to everyone on the river.
But there is a solution that will help everyone working in the
river: universal picture signs. The N.C. Division of Marine
Fisheries and General Assembly can't help but see both the need
and the benefit.
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
Mobile Home Owner
Offended By ' Bigotry '
To the editor:
Nothing personal to Mr. Harbeck (consultant for the county land use
plan update) but he has managed to insult half of the population of Bruns
wick County in his land-use survey, with yet another form of bigotry.
Although I approve of some sort of planning for development for
housing and industry, I don't think Brunswick County should be quite so
snobbish.
Some of us "illiterate, poor" mobile home owners pay quite enough
taxes on their land and help support local business (i.e. groceries, retail
outlets and those hamburger stands) all year 'round. Some retirees who
choose to live in mobile homes brought quite a lot of disposable income,
since they aren't spending it all on million-dollar homes.
Oh, and those T-shirt shops and fast food stores stay open all year and
contribute their fair share of revenue to the county.
This plan sounds like a dream of Utopia for the county planners. Their
ideals may be a high standard of living for an area where the average
salary wouldn't pay for a sub-standard of living. It takes all types to
make a well-rounded community.
I, for one, enjoy the brilliant mixture of cultures and activities in
Brunswick County. 1 moved here for a simpler lifestyle, to get away from
the "mega-buck society" and to enjoy the luxury of being a full-time
mom in my mobile home.
If I wanted high-priced stables, marinas and gourmet cuisine, I would
have taken my mobile home to Hilton Head, S.C.
Regina S. Briuon
Supply
Attorney's Comments On Quayle Opposed
To the editor:
Last week, using a dysfunctional blunderbuss and over 500 words,
Shallotte attorney Mark A. Lewis scattershot three paragraphs worth of
negatives at Vice President Dan Quayle.
Straight shooting will unhinge open and unobservant minds every time.
So don't breathlessly await the counselor's comments about the preg
nant teenager recently quoted: "No second pregnancy (is necessary). It
don't make no sense for teenagers to get pregnant back-to-back," and "I
want me a girl. Boys are too much trouble."
But he ought to try, becausc comments coming from clear minds
would be politically incorrect.
Karl E. Brandt
Shallotte
(More Letters, Following Page)
Another Adventure In Moving
Moving will strip you of all senti
mentality toward your worldly
goods
The circumstances of our move
back to Brunswick County from the
mountains left very little time for
planning or packing. We frantically
(and literally) took 4,000 pounds of
junk to the landfill.
I loaded the only things I really
felt strongly about ? my dishes, pots,
pans, knives, cutting boards, Cui
sinart and the most treasured of my
cookbooks ? into the backseat of my
car and brought them here Memorial
Day weekend. My husband moved
his favorite toys? catamaran, wind
surfer, surfboard ? and two aquari
ums with a borrowed van. Then our
level of enthusiasm for the rest of
the move sharply declined.
We moved into a fully furnished
house here, so in order to move any
thing of ours in, we must move an
T-'V
Carlson d
Lynn
equal amount out. This would be
simple enough, except that there's
nowhere to go with it but to a down
stairs storage room which has a wa
ter mark at 22 inches, a memento of
Hurricane Hugo. Somehow this
seems an inappropriate place to store
the landlord's living room furniture.
So it's been really easy to assume
a don't-look-back kind of attitude. I
don't even care about moving my
clothcs and shoes here. What use is a
closctful of business suits and high
heels (my "Lilith" outfits, as I now
contemptuously view them, for you
Cheers fans) in a place this casual?
I'll get new clothes.
I gave my dog away. I invited
friends over to go through my books
and take whatever they wanted. I
went through the linen closet and
farmed out sheets, towels, place
mats, napkins and tablecloths to any
one who'd take them. With the pros
pcct of wrapping, packing, unwrap
ping and unpacking looming ahead,
no object was sacred.
To compound the chaos, we unex
pectedly sold our house in the
mountains just days before the
move, before it had even been listed
with a real estate broker. This is par
ticularly unusual bccausc the house
is a mile straight up a dirt road, from
which it is not visible. The young
couple drove up (and I mean really,
really up) on bicyclcs, said they
r
heard we were moving, took a hasty
look around and came back in four
days with an offer to purchase. I
took this as a Sign From Above, and
acccptcd, despite the fact that they
offered a lot less than we wanted.
That didn't stop me from throwing
in a washer and dryer, a set of bed
room furniture, fireplace tools, a so
fa, a set of encyclopedias, two caLs
and whatcvcr's wrapped up in all
that aluminum foil in the freezer.
It's time to let the nice young cou
ple move in. More importantly, it's
time to take the big fat check from
the nice young people. So the 17
foot orange "Adventures in Moving"
van with air conditioning and "gen
tle-ride suspension" is all reserved
for this weekend's 700-mile round
trip. It may be the hardest thing
we've ever done to resist leaving a
piece of furniture at every rest area
between Ashcvillc and Florence.
When Neighborliness
Is 'Humanly' Impossible
When is a neighbor nol a neigh
bor? Maybe when he/she is a big
rowdy dog.
Wc had a frantic call last week
from a Brunswick County neigh
borhood where one frisky dalmatian
was making life difficult for a
woman on his street, destroying
flower beds, clambering over porch
furniture and making messes as only
a dog can do.
A complaint to the owner did not
result in a permanent remedy. Every
lime the dog was allowed to run free
he headed for the same porch and
flower beds. His neighbor's blood
pressure rose and S.O.S. calls were
finally made to the dog pound, the
health department and the newspa
per.
Investigative reporting revealed
that the poor dog owner was also at
her wits' end. Fined S25 under the
Marjorie
Megivern
county nuisancc ordinance, she also
had her pet impounded and had to
retrieve it at some expense. She tried
keeping the lively one on a leash,
but felt the animal deserved an oc
casional romp. One of these es
capades at 2 a.m. had her chasing all
over the neighborhood in hot pursuit
of the playful canine.
What to do? How could two
women and a dog bccome friends?
It is just not feasible to give les
sons in ncighborliness to a dog.
Despite our attempts to "civilize"
these creatures, they tend to follow
natural compulsions, and isn't that
what we like about them?
If they could be just like us, what
would be the point in having pets?
(There has been some suggestion
that we'd do better to emulate
them.)
Anyhow, dog-training of that sort
being out of the question, this hu
man relations tangle is a matter for
the two humans to resolve.
One suggestion is that there's no
substitute for face-to-face conversa
tion, preferably over a cup of coffee.
The two neighbors in this case being
women, talking should come natu
rally, preferably on neutral turf.
Why can't dog owner and
flower-bed owner meet at the closest
fast food establishment and discuss
their differences?
Why not? Well, to begin with, on
ly dog lovers can approach this con
flict with the necessary sensitivity
toward the animal in question; only
flower-bed lovers can properly ap
preciate the nurture of tender blos
soms. Can the twain ever meet?
Only, I submit, if a puppy be
comes available as a gift to the one
neighbor and some flower cuttings
arc pressed on the dog owner. If
each one becomes intimately ac
quainted with "enemy territory"
there may be the right climate for
negotiation and more neighborly re
lations.
Meanwhile, the flower-bed neigh
bor had better be thankful that this
dalmatian is the quiet sort. Howling
in the night is not, thank heavens,
one of her complaints.
Beware The Bite Of The
Rabid Bungee
Jumper
Consider these two items that ap
peared in local newspapers recently:
"MYRTLE BEACH? This year,
Horry County has had 11 cases of
rabies. The animals involved were
three foxes, six raccoons, one bat
and a ferret. The number is more
than the county usually has in a
year."
"MYRTLE BEACH? As bungce
jumping spreads along the South
Carolina coast, some say local gov
ernment needs to regulate the sport
because the state is powerless to do
so."
Mere coincidencc?
I think not.
Dr. Lee Hunter, a state public
health veterinarian, told me last
week that unusual behavior patterns
arc one of the surest indicators that a
critter is infected with rabies. Dogs
and cats often slobber and walk
around funny. Foxes will become
highly aggressive. Raccoons can be
seen pulling lids back on trash cans.
Now some of my besl friends
have occasionally been known to
slobber and walk around funny. But
among humans, I can think of no
pattern of behavior more unusual
than tying a rubber band around
your leg and jumping from a very
high place.
For those of you lucky enough to
be blissfully ignorant of this latest
craze, you will be amazed to discov
er that bungee jumpers do exactly
Eric f W
Carlson ' ?jBi *
Sir'.
that.
People actually pay money to
have a crane hoist them hundreds of
feet into the air so they can tie a
bungec cord to their ankle and dive
toward the ground, hoping the rope
will snatch them back before the im
pact turns their face into rhubarb
pic.
I know where this idea came
from. Years ago there was a Na
tional Geographic story about na
tives in some jungley place who
were so bored with their idyllic
lifestyles that they built huge towers
and jumped off them with vines tied
around their legs.
It was never quite clear to me
whether this was done to impress the
ladies or to prove their manhood,
but as a kid I thought it was pretty
cool. Not enough to want to do it.
All the evidence I had at the time
suggested I would have a better
chance with the girls by getting a car
than by swan diving off a tower with
vines tied to my legs.
Now all of a sudden we have oth
erwise normal people doing the
same thing, except today they wear
helmets and harnesses and other fan
cy, high-tech equipment. These peo
ple must be really bored. Or perhaps
it's because cars have gotten so ex
pensive.
Personally, 1 think they might
have rabies.
Remember those films that show
ed droves of lemmings diving off
hundred-foot cliffs, supposedly as a
suicidal form of population control?
After doing a bit of research, I dis
covered that if you look closely, you
can see that each one of those furry
little rodents has a thin rubber band
tied to its hind paw.
Turns out the lemmings had been
driven mad by rabies and look up
bungee jumping as a form of psy
chological release.
Dr. Hunter told me that in
Perquimans County recently a rabid
fox went berserk and attacked a
child in a wading pool. Consider
this: There are no cliffs in Per
quimans County. Just tightly wound
foxes.
But 25 miles east, in Currituck
County, a group of bungee jumpers
has asked the board of commission
ers for a permit to set up a crane and
rubber bands so they can lure unsus
pecting tourists into their deadly
game. Now our neighbors in Horry
County are faced with the same ugly
business.
So what arc we to do? With rabid
foxes and bungce jumpers just
across the state line, it's only a mat
ter of time before they show up in
Brunswick County!
1 suggest we nip both birds in the
bud with one stone.
Why not pass a law requiring all
bungee jumpers to be treated for ra
bies? And not with those new, rela
tively painless shots. Let's make
them go through the treatment we all
heard about as kids, the one where
they drive 20 needles the size of
railroad spikes into your stomach
and leave them there for a week.
Not only would this help slow the
spread of a deadly disease, but it
would surely discourage otherwise
sane people from unwitting expo
sure to this absurd and potentially
dangerous amusement.
Who knows? It might even in
crease car sales.
Write Us
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P. O. Box 2558, Shallotte, N. C.
28459.