By Cyndy Slovak-Barton.
T’is the season for curmudgeons.
But, sometimes, it’s hard not to be one.
Take Christmas music, for example. I am already sick of it, and it’s not even Thanksgiving yet. I am one who will listen to all kinds of Christmas music. I have everything from the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s Traditional Christmas to John Denver’s Christmas in the Mountains to Bob Rivers’ Twisted Radio. My children learned that there are no songs that can’t be sung in a beautiful choral arrangement, in a country twang, and then be flipped into a “What’s it to ya” chorus.
But sometimes, it’s just a little too early. Last weekend, I spent Saturday with my mother, sister and daughter in a mall in Dallas. It was three generations coming together, enjoying each other’s company – and shopping. We strolled through several stores and noticed that there was Christmas music being piped through the speakers in every story, in the public walkways, in the parking lot.
It just seems wrong to be wearing shorts in early November and having to be forcefed Christmas music.
Let’s wait until at least Thanksgiving. To this, I say, ‘no thanks.’
What’s another curmudgeony thing to do? Complain about city government when you don’t bother to vote.
Yep. That seems to be the way these days. The city of Buda, with a population of just over 9,000, had only about 590 voters turn out. That’s a whopping 6% turnout.
But listen in any coffee shop, in the restaurants, in the post office and you will hear people complaining – about their taxes, about what they want done in the city, about what they think the city is not doing.
Enough already. If you vote, you get to complain. Otherwise, no thanks, no complaints.
To the couple in Rollingwood who applied to the Barton Springs Edwards Aquifer Conservation District for a permit to pump 913,400 galls of water per year for their home and surrounding lots ...
No, no, no. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
J. David and Marcia Trotter are asking to pump the water for their home, which sits on three-quarters of an acre and is currently irrigated, and for an adjoining acre. They want 489,000 gallons for their home, and 432,800 gallons for their lot – for irrigation purposes to water seedlings to be transplated onto the irrigated acreage.
What else will they use the water for? “The water will be used for filling the lap pool and personal consumption,” David Trotter said.
He seems to think that he can pump as much as he wants because the water is below his property.
Obviously, he doesn’t understand the mechanics of an aquifer – that underground river that connects us all. While the rest of us are conserving – not watering yards, not flushing toilets all the time, catching all the rainwater we can – he thinks he can just use as much as he wants. We do our best during a drought to make sure that there will be water for the future; he thinks the future is now and just wants to use it all up.
It’s wrong for him to think he can or should. BSEACD should deny the permit. Instead of the well, why not put in a rain catchment system and use that water? If he has money for a well down into the middle Trinity Aquifer, he could certainly put in a great rainwater catchment system. We would all be better off if he would rethink his plans.
And now, thanks.
On a Monday morning when members of this staff were reeling with the death of a friend in a tragic auto accident, I got a phone call from a friend – a “second” daughter – asking if I could pick her up. Someone had t-boned her in a parking lot in San Marcos and her car was totalled.
But she was okay. She wasn’t hurt, just a little shook up. It was her first major accident, and she needed help.
It was a wonderful thing to pick up someone after a minor accident, as opposed to covering a tragic accident of a friend. For friends who need help, I am thankful, as they keep my head from being pulled under by all of our tragic news.
And a huge “Thanks” to all of the veterans out there, including my dad. Without all of you, we wouldn’t be putting out this newspaper, speaking our minds, freely covering events. We can’t say much more than a great, big, huge “thank you.”
