Woody Cavenaugh

I've been in a mood lately. A mood filled with chaotic rage. I have simmered quietly, taking deep breaths, counting to ten, throwing heavy objects from high places, the usual patches. While I haven't found the exact cause yet, I have discovered one of its symptoms.

You own a cell phone don't you? Its OK, I have two, work has a way of doing that to a person. When it rings, you answer it right? I am assuming of course that you have checked the caller ID and it isn't some person you don't want to talk to. For the sake of this rant, the phone rings, you check the caller ID and you don't mind talking to the person who is trying to reach you so you answer it.

With me so far, phone rings, you answer? Now modern cell phone companies are making a mint on selling special ringtones, often times songs that you like. The goal is that you will go out and pay anywhere from one to three dollars per ringtone. It is seen as a consumable, like a soda, a tube of toothpaste or a nice dinner. You may know someone who buys ringtones or you may buy ringtones yourself. Do you buy ringtones?

Do you?

There's no harm in buying something that makes you happy (unless the government has decreed that it is illegal to do so, in those cases your happiness doesn't matter). So you bought the ringtone? You thought about buying the ringtone? Why not, it is fun, and hip, don't you want people to hear your ringtone? Don't you want to listen to the latest song by Smeg Head on your phone? It seems like every other commercial and google ad is about buying ringtones. I am not sure but I suspect that the average phone can hold several ringtones and you can mix and match at your leasure.

I have one question though. If you are enjoying your ring tone, doesn't that mean that someone somewhere is trying to get in touch with you and you are not answering? It isn't that you are ignoring their frantic call, you are very well aware that your phone is ringing, but you are choosing not to answer it. The upside is that you get to hear the ringtone that you paid good money for. The downside is that the person calling you doesn't get to hear anything but your voicemail when they FINALLY get sent there. The really downside is that I and others like me have to listen to your phone blast the new hit from The Stinky Pinkies or Funkmaster Stank. Shut your damn ring hole and answer it! The phone is for ANSWERING. Thats why since Alexander Graham Bell asked his assistant to join him the phone rang like a bell. *Ring* "Hey, my phone's ringing, I'd better answer it!" Not anymore though nope. Now it goes like this, "I WANT TO F_CK THE B_TCHES, BUT THE B_ITCHES WON'T F_CK ME" on and on until the person on the other end gets sent to voicemail or gives up. Do you want your mother calling you with that ringtone?

My phone? My phone goes *RING*, and when it rings I answer it, or I look at which bill collector is calling and I hit the button that sends them to voice mail so my phone will stop ringing. That's how phones are supposed to be used. When I am in meetings, restaurants, or movie theatres my phone is either on vibrate or it is turned off entirely.

But you're going to go on downloading songs like "Lick My Baby Back Behind". You're going to listen to the whole damn thing, then you are going to check your voicemail. You're going to call them back and you are going to have to sit there and wait while their ringtone plays through. Then you are going to leave them voicemail and the whole process starts over again.

Well you know what,? One day I'm going to decide that enough is enough. One day I am going to record a simple ringing phone. One of the old ones. I am going to loop it and I'm going to burn it to a high quality CD. Do you remember the term "Ghetto Blaster"? A CD holds about an hour of music, or in this case an hour of constant ringing. I'll best I can last longer than you can. I've had more practice...

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 3:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Back on May 12th I published a entry about the end of the "Cardinals". It garnered a great deal of attention from other teams in the league. With the help of this large, diverse and dedicated group of athletes, coaches, owners and administrators some new information has come to light that I found both interesting and note worthy. First from The Delaware Griffins who at the moment I am putting these words to electrons have this as a press release on their main page.

For Immediate Release: May 25, 2006
Media contact, IWFL league office
info@iwflsports.com
Toll free 800-283-7035

For more information on the IWFL and the 2006 schedule check out www.iwflsports.com

Many people outside of the Old Cardinals had a great deal to say about the then owner's letter announcing that the team was officially disbanded and the earth was salted so nothing may grow here again. They aren't calling the former owner any names, but they did want to clear up some points.

For instance, the letter implied that the team had been kicked out of the league. I'm hearing that the owner's membership was suspended due to nonpayment of dues, fines and other infractions and fees, he is still a member of the league technically. It was said that some players from the old cardinals had made a separate deal with the league. Word is a member or members of the team did contact the league, but the league simply answered questions and didn't make any sort of agreement about anything until the owner walked away from the players and coaches, and that was to name a deligate to speak for the team.

While personally it sounded to me like the previous owner was looking for an excuse to walk away, I was of the opinion that he should get a fair shake. He struggled for three years trying to establish a team, thats three long hard years of trying to scratch a niche into the local sports scene and that can take a toll on the best of people. (I am reminded of the battle that was fought over the new baseball stadium downtown.) My opinion hasn't changed much in this matter the news from the other side certainly undermines any martyr status he might have been trying to claim. Fact is I don't care about owners, blame, failure, or rebirth. I'm a fan, I just want to dress like a maniac and brag to everyone in earshot that I'm sleeping with a member of the team. The thing we should all remember though is this, the only thing these women want to do is play football...

...and all by themselves they will, June 3rd in Orlando. How cool is that! Not bad for 13 days. I am not even sure they have settled on a name yet.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 8:00 AM | Permalink

In a very humorous coincidence today is Towel Day. It is also the day chosen by Eric Julien as the day that a comet fragment will hit the Atlantic ocean causing a massive undersea volcanic erruption which leads to a 200 feet high Atlantic tsunami (or tidal wave). Thus everyone close to water along the Atlantic coast (withen a few hundred miles of it) will most certainly die a watery death, presumibly before midnight tonight. At least they should know where their towel is.

It must be Thursday, I never could get the hang of Thursdays.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 1:57 PM | Permalink

I am glad I am not the sort of guy to be bothered by things like this. Since I have shaved the number of people who accidentally call me "ma'am" has risen sharply. When I had a beard only maybe one person a year would absently mistake me for a woman. (Woman what, I wonder?) Since I have shaved that number has jumped to at least once a week.

I wonder what the cause is, my sexy shape, my keen fashion sense and great hair? When we find out what it is exactly we need to bottle it and sell it to women who look like men (not by choice). On the other hand it could be used in college pranks to make those women that want to look like men temporarily look like women. It could also be used in fraturnity hazings, sometimes making a guy wear a bra an panty hose in public just isn't enough.

Woah! I'll bet I could make a fortune off of that stuff selling it exclusively to cross dressers! I have to get to work on this little side project right away. Maybe I can call it "Woody's Womanness" or something.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 1:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Saturday Sara and I had plans to meet up with Cameron and spend a relaxing day with friends. I was the first to get ready. I showered, dressed, and came into the living room. Sara saw me completely ready, got up showered, dressed. We left, we stopped to get gas, we hit the road again. About five miles from our target Sara looked at me and started cussing like a sailor. While this isn't exactly rare behavior, the reason for it was actually very new. She had put on the exact same outfit I was already wearing, a sage three button shirt with denium. She kept swearing it wasn't her fault even though I was dressed first. Her excuse was that she didn't notice. I believe her too. I can't tell you how many days she has let me get to my office only to discover that my hair wasn't done and my zipper was down.

I actually thought it was going to be OK though, we both looked excellent. Cam noticed. She didn't say anything, but Sara caught the twinkling in her eyes, grimiced as though she had tasted something very bitter and threw her credit card at me. I was to go buy a shirt RIGHT THIS MINUTE. Silver lining check! Hey, maybe I could find something with a silver lining!

Sears was having a sale, and I couldn't make up my mind so I got two shirts, both solids in the rust blush color pallot. I have t-shirts I can do magic with these colors with. Plus my wardrobe has always been weak in the red range. I am a happy camper, and Sara was the only one in Sage so she was as happy as she could be...

...until today. Remember where I said I had two new shirts? I wore one of them Saturday, and I saved the silk one specifically to go with the turquoise t-shirt. (I positively glow.) My new boss starts today and I wanted to make a positive impression. We were just out of the driveway when Sara glances over at me starts cussing like a sailor again. Again we were dressed almost alike, though she did not opt for the turquoise. You can lead a horse to the mall, but you can't make it accessorize.

She wanted this to be my fault as she was the first to actually put on cloths first, however we both knew that I plan what I am going to wear days in advance so one day's outfit can play smoothly into the next. Some people paint with fashion, I write novels. It was at this point that I realized that in the deep dark repressed recesses of her fashion subconscious, was a keen fashion sense trying despretly to get out. Its clearly communicating with me through outfits. It wants to be free! More free than linen at a kite flying contest. More free than a chifon sundress over a street vent. I hear you Sara's fashion sense!! Move towards the colors, it's me there lighting the way for you! Freedom!

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 9:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

She's so vain she probably thinks this blog is about her.

The other night, I was in bed sleeping the sleep of the righeous when Sara checks the voice mail, she makes a shocked noise, restarts the message and holds the phone to my ear. It was voicemail created by a phone spam device, an old one at that. It was the type that started playing as soon as the phone stopped ringing. So some bit of the message was lost as their automated system and my automated system talked without listening to one another. When my system finished its speech and started recording I hear "-like Brad Miller." This seemed pretty positive, "like" is a good word, not so strong as love, what's not to like about it. The phrase, "like Brad Miller" was warm and comfortable. In my sleeping state I really did like Brad Miller. I knew it was right, the voice on the phone told me it was.

Then the next paragraph began. Until the recording time of the message was used up by the spam device, I was insulted in the worst way possible, again and again no less. Vernon Robinson apparently hates me for some reason. He called me a conservative, and I can't think of a more venomous, vile, or mean spirited insult. Worse yet he attacked many of the opinions that I hold near and dear. I can see venting on your blog about me. Isn't that one of the cornerstones that the blogsphere was built upon? But to call my house, insult me, insult my opinions and then threaten to mail something to my house? That's darned near an act of war. My sleep for the rest of the night was fitful and my dreams were of Vernon Robinson chasing me from district to district calling me names.

Days later it came. The threat I heard on the phone was made real. An envelope labeled, "Photo inside do not bend" arrived in my mailbox. On the cover was the same mixed message that came to me via voice mail. More than half of the big envelope was about how much I would probably like Brad Miller. It wasn't a perfect fit, but clearly Brad and I had some common ground to start from. But there it was in the upper right corner, "Robinson for Congress.com" and in the bottom center, "lying congressman". What am I supposed to think?

Inside the envelope was a photo of robinson defending family, faith, and freedom in uniform as he graduates from the US Air Focre Academy in the class of 1977. So he defended my family, faith, and freedom in the war. Which? What? Where? Oh, there wasn't one. So he served in the Air Force able to defend my family, faith, and freedom, should the need arise. That's good! Nice picture too, I hardly knew it was him.

I got a 8.5 by 11 page double sided with five pictures a banner bar and some text. He lists a bunch of people I never voted for, well except Richard Petty. Petty bumped some motorist on 220 some years back for driving too slow, he got my vote on that one. I didn't read past the first paragraph though. It was in blue, so Robinson must be the democrate candidate. Easy enough.

The other is an 11 by 17 folded in half four pages total in red about Brad Miller. I know now that Brad Miller must be the republican candidate, it has one small smiling picture of Mr. Miller on the front, and one small picture of a smiling guy with a foreign sounding name on the back. So Mr. Miller must be popular with folks from various ethnic backgrounds. I do know this, though I haven't read it yet. Based on how much was written about Brad Miller, verses how much was written by himself clearly Mr. Robinson is both modest and is throwing his supporting towards Brad Miller.

He also sent a letter asking for my money and an envelope to send my money to him in. I won't be sending him my money. Partially it is about the mixed messages and insults he hurled my way. That's no way to act. Mostly it is because neither of us actually live in the district he is running for.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 10:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Have you ever been so busy doing a thing you didn't even have time to talk about it. That would be me this weekend, as we hosted a Regional Youth Circuit event. Specifically we hosted the last possible one to qualify for Nationals. We had 76 fencers and something close to 120 entrants. Here's the results.

What the results don't show is the incredible club we have who volunteered so much time and energy to make this event possible. Set up in UNCG's Health and Human Performance building, was the smoothest and fastest ever. During the event volunteers were always at hand to score keep, help the little ones get on and off strip, run errands, get referee lunches, and generally make this event go about as smooth as it possibly could.

Parents only stormed the Bastille once, and it was delt with by me, poorly but it was delt with. I have to get better at dealing with seiges of rambling combativeness.
No event started later than 40 minutes behind (and that was so the Referees could eat lunch).
Breakdown went smoothly, and both days we were out of the gym before 6pm. It really coudn't be much better than that. We did have lessons learned of course. I didn't put together that if the fencers all paid in advance, there wouldn't be money to feed referee's and volunteers, nor would there be money to pay the referees. Fortunately we had willing volunteers who paid those expences out of pocket, and the process to get those people paid back is well underway.

I took yesterday as a mental health day to recover from the weekend. Even when an event goes as smoothly as this one did, it takes its toll on you, and that toll had to be paid. We call this "tournament hangover", and I am still not recovered fully. Maybe I should have drank or something to cushion my system. All I know is that even as I write this, I sure could use a nap. Oh well, Saturday is comming.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 10:38 AM | Permalink

No Publicist.
No Fund Raiser.
No General Manager.
Owner walks away and salts the earth behind him so to speak.

UPDATE HERE5/25/06

The information I have gathered has led me to the opinion that a possible misunderstanding between the owner and the team or league about certain manditory fees that the owner required the teammates to pay may have played a part the series of events that have taken place in the last day. Specifically Wednesday the team met inviting the owner. At the meeting the team talked about ways they could help offset the cost of competition. Players were prepared to beg and borrow from other local football programs for pads, a player had a line on some plain numbered uniforms. Some team mates researched some of the league required fees and found some of them to be optional. They recommended that for this season, they hold off on things like optional suplimental insurance until the team could get on its feet. Each player agreed to buy their own helmet, mask, pads, and cleats. They asked that the owner help with travel and rooms. During this meeting apparently the owner may have found some possible offense.

Thursday at 10:24pm the owner sent this notice to the team:

Effective today, the Carolina Cardinals-Women's Football Team is no long
a member of the IWFL. It is my understanding that the league officials have
worked out an agreement with some of the former players of the Carolina
Cardinals, and at this point my organization does not have any
affiliation with the IWFL. So, after being informed of this new
development I have ceased all Carolina Cardinals-Women's Football
operations. The Carolina Cardinals name or any affiliation to this team can
not be use without the expressed written consent of the ownership of
the Carolina
Cardinals. The Carolina Cardinals is a registered business entity of
[Name withheld] with the
State of North Carolina.

Dedicated and driven local Women's Professional Football Team and talented coach looking for dedicated and skilled management staff. Should have drive, ambition, the ability to raise capital and excitement. Both proper verbal and written English a must. Players will adopt your team name.

As bad as this sucks, there is a silver lining. The name "Cardinals" for a football team is pretty darned weak, state bird or not.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 8:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

One of the fencers in my club is celebrating his 15th year anniversary. Yeah him! Honestly 15th these days is nothing to sneeze at when the divorce rate is hovering somewhere around 50%. Like any guy on his 15th he wants to do something special and memorable for his wife to prove to her how completely devoted he is to her. Specifically, he wants it to be something that could be personaly embarassing to himself. What can I say, men are simple creatures. The ability to bare embarassment as proof of our dedication is encoded in our genes.

Where this romantic fairey story becomes a nightmare for the rest of us is his decision to record a song and put it on his blog. The killing blow for the rest of us? He's good. Go give it a listen.

Thank you very much! What are the rest of suppose to do now? You've ruined it for us. All I have left is getting a tattoo on my forehead saying something like "This idiot property of Sara whom he loves very much".

When I went to Sara to complain she comforted me with a gentle reminder. We were married Tuesday February 29th 2000. By the time our 15th anniversary comes around 60 years will have passed. Maybe so too the memory of this will have passed. I'm off the hook.

I sure do feel sorry for the rest of your poor suckers though. And no, you're not invited to coaches Karoke night either.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 10:09 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

You parents out there must remember with pride that moment when your child first figured out how to tie their own shoes. Perhaps the moment of pride was when your child finally figured out that urinals in the men's room aren't for pooping. Those of you who have taught school might think with pride on that day when the slow kid finally started to consistantly write their name in the upper right side of the page. Anyone remember that light bulb moment when your parent's finally figured how to work the VCR remote? What about email?

I had one of those glorious moments last night. Like feeding a child sometimes you have to play games to get them to eat their peas, "Here comes Mr. Airplane comming in for a landing". In most cases getting people to make that next brave step in fencing requires a little creativity. That's why I often layer my lessons like an onion. Onions have layers, fencing lessons have layers. Sometimes if you distract the fencer with one layer you can use the distraction to get them through another couple of layers.

Last night this happened. Did I mention that I had one of these glorious moments last night? ;) Every night someone comes away with something. Some nights the best I can hope for is some small step from only one person. Last night everything came together for one person. I almost wept. I'm not saying any names, the fencer in question is a regular reader and to say the name out loud might spoil the magic. Let me say this, distance, tactics, parries, persistance, and point control all took one big step forward. It was like a Rockettes kick line, beautiful and percise.

As rewards go, that was just about as nice as a paycheck.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 1:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

For those of you new, a quick recap. My wife is a member of The Carolina Cardinals professional womens football team. She plays offensive center as well as on the defensive line.

The team is very dedicated and hard working, the coach a true professioal loved and respected by the team and everyone connected to the team. Everyone involved is very good at what they do, but the team lacks one very critical element. It has no publicist. Most of the news about the team I have seen so far is from the blogging community, and that mainly from my own blog. The fund raising efforts have not been going well, such that even the party at the Radisson was cancelled 11:30pm the night before it was supposed to happen due to lack of interest. I imagine that if the team had a publicist, even a talented volunteer would do, these fund raisers would be heard of out side of one proud spouse's blog. Am I volunteering? Heck no, I've got enough to do already with my fencing life.

So what I am I whining about exactly? Don't think of it as whining, think of it as the admission that the team needs help and the plaintive call for some talented individual(s) to swoop in and save the season. The first game by the way is scheduled for May 20th and the team doesn't even have helmets, pads, or uniforms yet.

To this end Sara is trying to get the team to meet this week to talk about the possibility of who would be willing to/able to buy their own equipment in hopes that it might just be enough to let them play at least a couple of games this season. Will it be enough? You'll know soon after I find out.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 4:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Comming home to the Crystal Coast today in the long boring stretch between New Bern and Kinston on highway 70, I heard a pop, the handling on the car went south, and through the wheel I felt the sensation of a blowout. Damn. So I pull over, hop out and prepare to make the repair when low and behold, I had four tires in exactly the same condition.
Whole. With air. Of the non-blown out variety. This of course makes me extra nervious.

The only thing to do of course is to check everything out, belt was fine, I grabbed the two front tires and shook as hard as I could. The suspension passed the roadside test. Nothing dragging the road. Damn.

So, I get back in the car and head back out, now with extra paranoia. Six or so miles later the exact same thing happens, I manage to get off the road right at the bottom of the bridge that spans the Neuse river. I get out. The front left tire is flat. Damn. Actually, this is something of a relief. It is broken, I can touch it, I can fix it. I do, and replace the blown out tire with the factory spare, it has never been used before. Did I mention the car is a 1997? Yes it is, and yes the spare was flat as well. Damn.

I knew a convenience store was just under a mile away from where I was so I limped the car over there. This convenience store was of the type "inconvenient". Though I could get my Wendy's fix on, get a tank of gas, and a lottery ticket, I could not get air. Damn.....it.

Next stop, the next closest gas station. If there isn't air, there will be Fix a Flat, and this would count as an emergency. My mother was very specific about asking me what time I was going to be home because she was going to have a nice hot seafood dinner waiting for me when I walked in the door. Fortunately, this gas station had air, I filled the spare to the recommended 60 psi at a cost of seventy-five cents. I was back on the road, with the donut.

With all of that I did still manage to fall within the time range I told my mother.

They hadn't started cooking yet.
Damn.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 12:09 PM | Permalink

As you may well know, May 5th is International No Pants day, a day celebrated by shaking the shackles of slacks.

So here I am sitting in my office, in my best underwear wondering how my officemate is going to respond. I hope she is as relaxed and as good natured as I am right this minute. My fear of course is she will be so caught up in the oppression of her own pants that she will not be able to percieve the freedoms at her very toes.

Its liberating really, I think I could do this everyday....

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 8:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

In one bold sentence I will confuse both the left and the right. I do not think illegal immigrants should have the same rights as US citizens, however HR 4437 is a crock of bull.

Crazy huh? I'll bet some readers expected me to burst into flames just then.

Before I rant on, you might need a quick breakdown of what HR4437 is. Here's the Wikipedia article Here is what it means to immigrants. Here's how Haliburton and their government payouts intend to profit from us. Finally, here's all the other things you can do with detention centers. Most of these things smack of concentration camps.

There are some out there who will undoubtably say this is an either or issue. As always, these people are still wrong. The United States has a system of Immigration. Some would say that this system is broken. I am not so sure. Misapplied, mismanaged, poorly funded, unevenly applied, these are all things that might describe it, but it isn't a failure, it simply hasn't been allowed to work. HR 4437 is an invitation to fascism. I cannot and will not support that, even if this means that in 10 years my blog will be used to put me in Haliburton detention center. When in doubt, always go with the forefathers. I think it is a good rule of thumb.

So what we had May 1st with the Immigration Rally was for the most part an extreme response to HR 4437. Extreme both in its big and peaceful turnout (something they should be extremely proud of), and extreme in their demand of a general amnesty for non-citizens of the United States who reside in the U.S. illegally. You don't get amnesty, you're not a citizen. Go get citizenship. (Yes, easier said than done, but still the correct answer.)

HR4437 should line the cage of a tropical bird. Should the border patrols be steped up? Absolutely. Do we need to build a fence on our northern and southern borders? Extreme, and expensive even if it were effective. I wonder by the way if the northern fence is meant to keep the Canadians out or us in? Should an illegal who gets caught driving drunk be charged with a felony and tossed into Halliburton Land guilty until proven innocent? Nope. Should we break up mixed families and make it so they can never see each other again? No Pat Roberson, no Rush Limbaugh, and no Jim Sensenbrenner, (R) Wisconsin.

Ed Cone is correct, it is a complex issue. I just want to make sure everyone understands it isn't a black and white issue. (Or even brown and white if that is how you view the world.)

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 8:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I haven't noticed it so much in Guilford county, but in Rockingham and Randolph, and even back home in Carteret County, Folks running for sheriff are running as Demoncrate or Repugnican. I just can't get a handle on this concept. Do repugnicans and the demoncrates fight crime differently or something? It is possible I suppose based on the way they commit crimes. Does a democrat sheriff protect his constituents by focusing on the rich white collar criminals? Does the republican sheriff protect his rich white collar constituents while focusing on the poor criminal? If this is what is happening, I want an independent sheriff. I would feel a whole lot safer knowing that my sheriff treats all criminals the same.

I would in fact rather keep the sheriff candidates as far away as I could from the folks running for public office. I am just not sure that mixing crime fighting and politics is ever a good idea. Look at all the trouble we've had mixing crime and politics. There is so much talk of trying to bring down the criminals running the show that the show really hasn't been running at all. Well, except the crime part.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 8:34 AM | Permalink

Illegal imigrants and supporters are taking to the streets in protest in order to demand rights. They say that by not working or buying today they will prove that they can cripple our economy. They demands rights! Apparently a large population hasn't gotten the memo about how rights work in this country. They would have gotten that information had they looked into the process of being legal. Besides human rights that everyone gets including them, citizens of the United States get rights as citizens, which include voting, good roads, free school for the kids, help for the poor, etc. There is even a government office whose sole purpose is to help people become citizens.

But these people are illegal. They didn't go get citizenship. Admitedly some of them might have tried, and they might have gotten turned down for whatever reason. If you aren't a citizen, or you don't have a greencard, or visa, then that would mean that you are breaking the law and thus "illegal".

Did you know that criminals convicted of a felony lose their rights as citizens? No more voting, no more being a gun owner. If you are breaking the law now just by being here, what makes you think you are going to get rights as a citizen? What makes you think you should?

Do you want to be a citizen? Great! There is a process you go through to become a legal US citizen. It might not be easy, but nothing good ever is.

If you are illegal, you need to get legal or go home. Just because someone else breaks the law by exploiting you in the work place doesn't make you any less illegal. You say that you are willing to do work that none of the real Americans are willing to do. You might be right, but the homeless on the streets and the otherwise out of work Americans get first dibs. If we as a country have jobs we can't fill with the already legal Americans, perhaps those jobs will end up oursourced to your own country. If they can't, then your chances of going through the process and being made a legal US citizen are boosted big time.

As it stands, you don't get much sympathy from me. I can understand why you want to come here, but there are better ways of doing it. All I see now is a bunch of illegal people undercutting the compeitition for jobs and using resources meant for US Citizens. (Like public schools.) That isn't very nice.

All you are doing by taking to the street now, is making it easier to get rounded up and shipped to your country of origion, which I suppose come to think of it probably isn't a bad thing.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 10:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)