Kyle City Limits
By BRENDA STEWART
Being thrust into the role of “rule maker” by a little pink plus sign on the face of a pregnancy test 16 years ago, I had no idea how daunting and arbitrary that task might be. Until then, I hadn’t really given much thought to the fact that someone was actually making up the rules as they went along.
When Emma hit the planet without an instruction manual, I just went back to the basics: Never wake a sleeping baby; life is messy; and, at any table outside your kitchen, children should be seen and not heard (except by the moon as you whisk them outside to howl).
The rules weren’t that much more complex before I had children though: Don’t cut in line; don’t take what doesn’t belong to you; and, don’t be an ass if the situation isn’t warranted. Simple, straightforward civilized society should not be considered a luxury. Wait your turn, earn your own way and keep a civil tongue in your head.
Without an awful lot of outright defiance, I’ve always been a rule-follower. Order placates my sense of justice. I said no to “free” cable TV even though my old college neighbor could splice me in, I show up for jury duty and never park in the handicapped spot (and not just due to sheer paranoia that I might find myself in karmic need of a “jury of my peers” or a space by the door one day). It’s not convenient or politically correct. It’s just right.
This newly-bestowed responsibility, though, left me keenly aware of the rule makers around me. From politicians to principals to preachers, I am amazed at some of the wacky folks we bestowed this decision-making power upon.
On a national level, these “representatives” sentence pot smokers to life in prison, ram mandatory testing down our children’s throats, and slink into our bedrooms to dictate who we can marry.
On a state level they stymie legislation protecting the air we breathe, attempt to mandate the Bible a public school history book, and then swan dive directly into our wombs with edicts for our physicians.
Locally, plans are being made to discourage and tax large gatherings in public places (although the city will exempt itself and churches) and Kyle’s new library is completely forbidding religious and political organizations from utilizing the public meeting rooms. Don’t even get me started on the salvia ban.
Next Saturday, we have an opportunity to turn back some archaic liquor laws that some rule maker proposed a long time ago. The wording on the May 12 ballot is mercifully straightforward: “Shall the City of Kyle, permit the legal sale of all alcoholic beverages including mixed beverages.” That’s the proposition in its entirety.
And, in this way, we are all rule makers if we use the voting booth to reflect our community standards and bring our growing city into this century. Times change and laws need to be evaluated and adapted.
To this day, although some rules in my house have remained steadfast, many are in a constant state of flux as our daughters mature. It’s just logic coupled with courtesy. Don’t open the new bag until the old bag is finished; leave the shower in at least as good or better shape as you found it; and, as always, no biting.
