Monday, July 2, 2018

ME LLAMO CARLOS

There is talk, talk, talk about borders these days. How do we secure them? Why we should not separate children from their parents who are trying to come into the USA illegally. And much, much more.  If you live close to a border as we do, this issue is on the front burner bubbling away 24/7.

We citizens are entitled to speak our minds freely. It is also one of the big reasons many unfortunates want to gain access to our blessed land. True, freedom is not fully appreciated by those of us who enjoy it as a birthright. We breathe it just as easily as the air. But when we see the faces and hear the voices of those who suffer from a loss of freedom, it becomes quite another thing altogether. We pay attention.

The issue of US residency is critically important to ALL of us, not just those outside waiting to get in. We really should put heat to the feet of our elected officials to resolve the immigration and citizenship dilemma. We cannot allow Washington to kick the issue further down the road. It is far too important to delay, again.

Florida has an abundance of transplanted Northerners, senior-seniors and Hispanics. I'm two for three here, leaning toward the Hispanics on the third, although my credentials are shaky. Long years ago the United States Army felt that my schooling which included four years of studying the Spanish language marked me as a special soldier. While the rest of the draftees in my group were marched off to the infantry, I was held aside for the Language School in Monterrey, California, where they were churning out interpreters.

Placed in an empty barracks taking various tests, I never progressed far beyond how to identify myself, “me llamo Carlos” (May Yah Mo Karl Oss) and the names of a few Mexican beers. When the testing scores came back, I was firmly at the bottom of the list.

And quickly in the field artillery.

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