Let me bring you up to date as to my latest thinking on whether or not to offer myself as a write-in candidate for governor of the Great State of Georgia this November and as a viable alternative to a multi-billionaire Republican who always looks like he just swallowed a lemon and a Democrat who bailed on the City of Atlanta as mayor when things started getting tough. The good news is that since I first brought up the idea a couple of months ago, the number of people pledging to vote for me has quadrupled. The bad news is the number has gone from 3 to 12. But it’s a start. I would just need Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger to find me another 2,110,316 votes. Stay tuned. . . .
The World Cup has come and gone and from all reports, things went exceedingly well. Visitors from around the world found us to be pretty nice folks, despite what they may have heard or read about us in the past. A good example: The city of Lawrence, Kansas, played host to the team from Algiers. Hundreds of locals showed up to greet the Algerians when they arrived, thousands attended practices and the University of Kansas band serenaded them with the Algerian national anthem before their training sessions. It reminded me of the athletes at the 1996 Centennial Olympic Games who mixed and mingled with no bias or animosity regarding where they were from. Maybe there should be an event requiring ever president, prime minister and dictator in the world to have to spend a month together with no lackies around. Hopefully, they would find common ground and quit the wars and the killings. Just a thought. A naïve one, but a worthy one. . . .
Before I leave the World Cup, I swelled with pride over the Scotland contingent. The Beloved Woman Who Shared My Name was Scottish to the core. A member of the Cameron clan. Her mother was born in Edinburgh and some of her ancestors are buried at Scone Palace. The Scots are special people and they showed it when they descended on Boston in their kilts and managed to consume all the beer in town. Drank the place dry. I love Scotland. Their motto? Nemo me impune lacessit. Look it up. . . .
If the sky-is-falling alarmists in Charlton, Clinch and Ware counties are still worried that now that our Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge is a UNESCO World Heritage site, the U.N. is going to come in and insert microchips in everyone’s bellybutton and take your land and your firstborn, I will be happy to contact the Chambers of Commerce in the towns adjacent to Yellowstone National Park, the Grand Canyon and the Everglades – all World Heritage sites for close to 50 years – and have them share their experiences with you. No need to thank me. It’s what I do. . . .
My recent theological musings over whether God is a one-planet God or reigns over the trillions and trillions of planets we know to be in the universe with more yet to be discovered got a lot of response. Many of you were interested to know about a small study group we have put together at our church to discuss the subject. We are still clearing calendars and have yet to meet. In the meantime, I suggest you consider doing the same at your own House of Worship. . . .
It is less than a month to college football kickoff and a lot has changed. Players are now earning enormous amounts of money for their name, image and likeness and can change schools on a whim. It is a new day. However, one thing hasn’t changed. If my alma mater’s Rhodes Scholar candidates don’t beat You-Know-Where Institute of Technology’s computer programmers, life has no meaning. . . .
Finally, this past week I got two very long and very detailed emails regarding one of my columns. The first one scolded me for criticizing Donald Trump and sent me a list of his accomplishments. The second one scolded me for defending Donald Trump and listed all the bad stuff he has done. It reminded me of the time several years ago when something I wrote drew these two back-to-back responses: One referred to me as a racist redneck. The next one said I was an Obama bedwetting liberal. I do love this job.
You can reach Dick Yarbrough at dick@dickyarbrough.com or at P.O. Box 725373
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