by Kathy McKinney
Well, this is different. I don't normally have to write in hospital waiting rooms. I usually wait for some sort of inspiration to strike over the weekend to write this editorial, but by late on Sunday afternoon, in the words of Jack O'Neil on Stargate, "I got nothin'." My daughter Casey was here for the weekend, and she showed up at the house, complaining that her back was hurting. Turns out that she (and the Advocate's Brandi, along with several other accomplices who I won't name here in case I need to blackmail them later) had been out Saturday night at a Fanning Springs bar, and my daughter, the one who is "graceful like a baby deer," (i.e. she's as clumsy as an intoxicated hippopotamus), was standing on the sidewalk and a Jeep, driven by a jerk who was apparently "playing" by gunning the gas pedal, jumped the curb and hit her.
by Kathy McKinney
Sometimes, when I'm sitting around watching "Meet the Press" on Sunday, trying to figure out what I'm going to write about here for Wednesday, I think of a great topic and then dismiss it, thinking "Oooooh, that's gonna get me in trouble." This is one of those columns. So let's just get that out of the way; I know my email box is going to be full and I'm going to have county officials yelling at me and Jay (one of the paper partners) is going to turn as white as a ghost and make one of those "concerned" phone calls. Sorry, Jay, but this is important.
I sat through the County Commission meeting on Thursday where Ms. Pamela Swanson and the Dixie County Humane Society made their bid to take over the county animal control budget. I have to say that the Commission did exactly the right thing in tabling that discussion until later. I'm a serious animal junkie myself and I totally sympathize with the frustration that people feel over the current animal control situation here. As Ms. Swanson said in that meeting "People don't call the county, they know that it is a death sentence." While I agree that many people might feel that way, it's not entirely true. I myself have a dog that came out of that pound, one who escaped the death sentence.
He escaped with a case of distemper and a permanent twitch, but he did escape, thanks largely to two compassionate county employees who cared enough to save him and Dr. Linda Stoddard, who busted her butt to pull him through. You'd think that a dog dragged from the brink of death would be more grateful and humble. Ha! He insists on sleeping in my
bed, like a person, with his head on the pillow, on his back and with his feet (twitching constantly, mind you) all up in the air.
Animal control is a nasty, horrible job. Nobody wants to be the one to confront a vicious owner about his vicious dog or to put puppies to sleep.  Nobody. But it's one of those jobs that, until people start taking responsibility for their own actions and animals, is going to be sadly necessary. It's also a job that has to be done (at least here) by
men with guns and with the authority of the law behind them. As well meaning as I know Ms. Swanson and the Society are, they do not have this authority. They can not tell the biker with the chained-up chow that they're going to take his dog and charge him with something criminal if his dog breaks loose and attacks the kids at the bus stop one more time.  They will not have the physical presence that a cop in uniform commands when dealing with angry, upset, and Sometimes violent people.
Good intentions pave the path to you-know-where, and although the Society has the best intentions for the animals at heart, it is obviously not ready to take on all of the responsibilities of animal control. It has no facility, no budget, no employees, and no experience. It is not the responsibility of the county to set Ms. Swanson up with a facility and staff at the taxpayer's expense. A viable business must be in place before a single taxpayer dollar is
handed over. It would be most productive at this time for the Society to focus on its mission of saving animals, and leave the gathering of them to the professionals. The Humane Society takeover fails to meet the two most important standards that have to be asked when privatizing a public service: a) can they do it better? and b) can they do it
cheaper? Sadly, the answer to both questions is no.
Some compromise may be possible; perhaps a deal could be struck that all adoptable animals could be transferred to the Humane Society after the legal minimum amount of time. The vicious animals and animals too sick to be adoptable would then remain the responsibility of the county, and the Society would not have the unhappy job of euthanasia or dealing with dangerous dogs or people. The Society could then spend all of its time and resources finding forever homes for the dogs and cats of Dixie County. The county could reduce its animal control budget to compensate for not having to care for and euthanize the healthy animals, and the Humane Society could collect all of those adoption fees, without having the cost of a "dog catcher" salary.  It could be a win-win situation.
The Humane Society would, of course, have to obtain a property–in the name of the Society–and build a facility that could be open to the public before such an agreement could be made.  It would have to be set up as a non-profit with all the transparency possible to ensure that no person would be profiting from the operation at the expense of the
animals. Perhaps grant money is available or a site could be donated.
I'm sure that there would be ample volunteers to build and staff it, especially with so many high school students in Dixie who need community service hours. That's where animal welfare has to start; at home. Providing free or low-cost neutering and spaying is probably the most important thing that can be done by the Humane Society. (Because,
although many animal lovers have big hearts, their pocketbooks do not often match.) The county might even come out financially ahead by sponsoring such a program like the low-cost neuter program in Alachua County. Also, encouraging people to adopt instead of buying high-priced purebred dogs from puppy mills and back-yard breeders would be a great
step. I'd be happy to design and print any ad campaign for that purpose, with no charge to the Society. I'm sure other business people would step up to help as well.
Dixie County has a small population, but it has some of the most compassionate and charitable people around. This is an issue that can be worked out, without placing money wrested from hard-working taxpayers at jeopardy. Gilchrist and Levy Counties both have vibrant Humane Societies that do not depend on public funding; Dixie should follow their example.
Mariah Hamilton has been battling AVMED to get the insurance company to cover the cost of her craniosacral therapy. Craniosacral therapy involves gentle manipulation of the body, and has allowed Mariah to avoid the life-threatening and extremely painful surgery that the Advocate reported that she was facing earlier this year. AVMED has been
refusing to cover the cost of the therapy, demanding that Mariah get the $250,000 surgery instead. Her family, quite sensibly, prefers the gentler, cheaper, more effective treatment for their 13 year old daughter who has already had 13 surgeries in her short life.
Today, the Hamiltons had a mediation meeting with AVMED at the Dixie County Library. The Hamiltons, who have had extreme difficulty getting AVMED to return calls, were accompanied by a news crew from TV20, who have been covering the Hamilton's fight for coverage. The Hamiltons explained that the news crew was there at their request, and that they
had nothing to hide. Apparently, AVMED does, because according to Mrs. Hamilton, they immediately closed, and then, cancelled the meeting while demanding that the media be removed.
The TV20 reporter is fighting to cover what she feels is a very important story about the insurance industry; please call the executive producer at TV20 and let him know that this is a story of interest to you. You can reach TV20 at 352-377-2020.
by Kathy McKinney
Friday is Independence Day. While you're out at the Stephenson's barn, watching the fireworks or eating baby back ribs, and maybe downing a cold one or two, I hope you'll spare a few minutes to contemplate the day…and to think about freedom.
Have you read Sen. Dodd's Housing Bailout bill? No, and he's counting
on it that you haven't, and that you won't. Aside from the ugly fact
that he's presenting a bill to give gazillions of your tax dollars to
Countrywide, the lender who gave him a "special VIP deal" on his
personal mortgage, there are other dirty deeds afoot.
It started with Time Warner. Then Comcast. And now AT&T is
jumping on the internet metering bandwagon. What does that mean? It
means that for $49.99 or whatever it is you're paying them per month
for your internet access, they will allow you some internet. If you are
a normal, under 30 user who watches YouTube and maybe uses BitTorrent
to download music or video files, you'd better get out your pocketbook.
Anything that the company deems to be "excess" usage will be billed
extra. A single Netflix download would use up the entire bandwidth
allowance for a low-end Comcast user.
78 year old Angel Torres was crossing the road in Hartford,
Connecticut with his newly purchased milk when a car that seemed to be
playing a game of chase with another car, mowed him down. The car that
hit him and its "playmate" didn't stop, but sped around a corner and
away. Mr. Torres lay paralyzed and bleeding in the street as commuters
went by on their way to work and as bystanders stood on the sidewalk
and gawked at his broken body. At least four of them had the decency to
call 911, but nobody could be bothered to walk out into the street to
try to stop traffic, or to cover the old man with a jacket. They stood
around like sheep, at a safe distance, waiting for someone in authority
to do something.
It's a miserably hot Saturday; too hot to work in the garden, so I
turned on the sprinkler and finished up some appraisals I had holding
and decided to do a little laundry and entertain myself by watching the
Democrats fight on CSPAN over our Florida votes. (Well, not my vote,
but the vote of anybody who voted for a democrat.) Yes, I actually
watch CSPAN. I'm geeky enough not to be ashamed to admit that I watch
it all the time. Don't get that look; it's not as boring as you'd
think. Today it's as funny as anything else on the idiot box.
It was a beautiful weekend, so we spent all day Saturday working in
the garden: fighting weeds, fertilizing, and planting extra rows of
beans and corn (just in case gas goes up another $1.00 a gallon). Well,
actually Doug spent his Saturday pushing the tiller, I mostly sat on a
bench in the shade watching him sweat, refreshing his iced tea and
reading The Federalist Papers while the kids played in the sprinkler.
(Yes, I'm geeky AND lazy, so sue me.)
Mother's Day is Sunday, of course, and since several of my friends have
lost their mothers lately, it's a topic that's been buzzing around my
head lately. Not in the pleasant way that you'd imagine really, like a
happy bumblebee; more like a hungry yellow fly at Shired Island. One of
those that, if you kill him, fifteen of his cousins show up to take out
their vengeance on your ankles and arms while you swat and run for
cover. It just won't leave me alone. No
matter how much your mother annoys you, no matter how much she gets on
your nerves, or how much you fight with her: she's your mother. You
only get one. People say that all the time, I know, but it doesn't hit
home until it's your mother. When she's gone, it leaves this big gaping
place that is forever void. My
mother and I never got along, I was too hard-headed, and well, heck,
too much me for that, I think. Even so, she was my mama and she put up
with my disdain and my teenage selfishness and antics and she loved me
and taught me the stuff that she knew. She's been dead now for almost
ten years, and I still catch myself thinking that I need to ask her how
to make her biscuits, or to find out the name of that Indiana cousin I
used to play with. Lots of unfinished business. And yes, a certain
amount of guilt. She didn't live to
see my three youngest kids. They remind me constantly of how much work
it is to raise children, and how much of yourself you sacrifice in
order to do it. Tenneva Jordan nailed it when she said, "A mother is a
person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people,
promptly announces she never did care for pie." We give up pie. Mothers
give up getting their hair done, their hobbies, quiet time, and social
lives. We live in a state of constant, irrelevant interruption. Heck,
I've probably been interrupted at least five times by Katie while
trying to type this paragraph. She's thirsty. She wants cheese. She
wants to jump on the trampoline. She's thirsty again. Argh. We
spend hours of time sorting out border disputes that would make
Condoleeza Rice's head spin. "He took my seat!" "No, it's mine!" "I
always sit there!" "I want the blue plate!" "No I do!" "Me! Me!" At
least at the end of her day of negotiations, Condoleeza gets to go home
to her swanky, quiet Washington flat. We moms just hope we get to go to
the bathroom by ourselves just this once. (One time when she was around
four, Georgia popped into the bathroom where I was seated, put her
hands behind her back and primly said, "Do you want me to sing for
you?") Sure, we get the bathroom
serenades, but mostly it's a long, hard thankless slog. So, on Sunday,
think about all of the hours that your mother spent on you. Pull out
the stops and give her a day to remember: this may be the last chance
you get.
Kathy McKinney I'm
not ashamed to admit that I'm scared these days. I'm a voracious
reader, particularly of news sites online, and what I've been reading
does not make for restful nights. Did
you know that in Haiti, people are eating dirt? Yes, dirt. Vendors are
selling butter and salt flavored dirt to starving people. When I was a
kid, Mary Elizabeth Cravey (now Shehane) and I used to eat dirt in the
back yard with gigantic spoons we'd steal from her mama's kitchen, so I
can say, I'm something of an expert.  You have to be darned hungry to
eat dirt.
Republican candidate John McCain has been catching holy
you-know-what for saying that the smartest thing to do about the
"mortgage crisis" is to leave it alone and let the banks who made
stupid loans go under. He stated that "it is not the duty of government
to bail out and reward those who act irresponsibly, whether they are
big banks or small borrowers." Not the most popular thing to say to
taxpayers terrified by news loops every fifteen minutes threatening a
looming recession. Clinton and Obama both offer "relief" packages to
prevent foreclosures, both with hefty price tags: Clinton wants to
spend $30 BILLION, Obama just $10 billion. To people late on their
trailer payment, though, a possible government handout must sound like
a godsend.
They might be able to afford land or whatever if certain corrupt
leading citizens didn't embezzle their hard earned money. If the county
is corrupt, it doesn't have much right to complain about federal
corruption.
[…] Reverse Mortgage Loan Blog wrote an interesting post today
onHere's a quick excerpt Kathy?McKinney Republican candidate John
McCain has been catching holy you-know-what for saying that the
smartest thing to do about the "mortgage crisis" is to leave it alone
and let the banks who made stupid loans go under. He stated that "it is
not the duty of government to bail out and reward those who act
irresponsibly, whether they are big banks or small borrowers." Not the
most popular thing to say to taxpayers terrified by news loops every
fifteen minutes threatening a looming recession. […]
Bill Maxwell at the St. Petersburg Times (it's always them, isn't
it?) published an editorial on Friday urging Floridians to boot Stephen
Foster to the curb along with "Way Down Upon the Swanee River."
Keep fighting in Tallahassee! I too have fond memories of the song
and feel proud to come from the area this song talks about. Why can't
people just leave things alone?? I have read the proposed song for
Florida if they decide to change it and I think it is ridiculous… Let's
work together to keep our heritage!
Waldo
park has a great location; there's no doubt about that. The old
"Spillers Highway" is a heavily travelled road and is central to many
of us who live in the Hammock area. So why is the park always empty?
Except for the occasional Saturday birthday party or the late afternoon
migrant-worker basketball game, the playground sits, quiet and unused,
with nobody but a passing stray dog for company. It only takes about
fifteen minutes for the reasons for the unpopularity of the Waldo
playground to become apparent.
I have to agree with the writer of this letter. My family has used
this playground for many years, for our daughters' birthday parties.
Yes, they are in December and January. But that is almost the best time
to use it. And yes, it is cold and/or wet most of the time. But, there
isn't any sandspurs (or very few of them) and the sun isn't killing the
kids while they are trying to play and have fun.
My daughters, ages 9 yrs and 6 yrs, have often asked to go to the
park in the summer time. We take them and a few minutes later are
either asking to go home or go to Cross City to the "good" park. I must
agree, the park in Cross City is much better. There are plenty of
benches–in shade and in the sun. There are a lot of trees to provide
shade for the kiddos and to keep the metal slides, swings,
merry-go-round cool enough not to burn the little ones.
I don't think it would take a lot of time and/or money to do the
same with Waldo Park. I am sure there would be families that could help
also.
Waldo
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