Let's play ball
I am very, very proud of Courtney Barnett ["Losing by decision," February 20]. She reminds me of myself. Over 25 years ago, I was 1 of 2 girls on the boys' track team. However, our coach saw an opportunity. He started a girls' track team. Within two years, we were headed for state.
It's too bad society doesn't see the economic, social, and health advantages of promoting women in sports. It's ok to promote us as a bunch of aerobic jackasses, but goodness forbid we compete.
Learning to wrestle is not only a worthwhile sport, but the skills learned can only help a woman defend herself if attacked.
So, come on boys, let's play ball! We're not going away. Courtney Barnett is a testimony to that fact. Yeeeee Haaaa!
Next time--if there is a next time, send a "man" (most likely a woman) to do a man's job...Someone who is conscious, sentient, intelligent, and understands "po-e-tree," not yellow journalism! Oh, the hype, hype, hype, and selling out everything you stand for ["The Bard of Bedford," March 6].
Send Mr. Tom Korosec back to university to study...particularly mythology (besides poetry). Tell him to read Carl Jung, Joseph Campbell, Oscar Wilde, William Blake, but most of all, Norman O. Brown ("Lovesbody"): "Everything is a metaphor (I call them 'metawhors'); all is poetry." And may he return as a better journalist, or at least "no" something about "po-e-tree!"
Pity the pawnbroker
In response to the article "On golden pawn" [February 13], I understand how the victims would feel twice victimized by having to pay the pawnbroker for their things. But look at it this way: If those things hadn't been pawned, they may never have been found. Thirty dollars is a small price to pay to be able to successfully retrieve your stolen goods worth an estimated $500. And by only being paid the principal, the pawnbroker isn't making any money. It's the thief who deserves your anger. The pawnbroker deserves your thanks.
I don't care if you post this, but I wanted to give the following feedback to the author of the recent article about memorials to slain policemen ["Soul searcher," February 27]. The author was uncertain about the location of "Death Crossing." I am pretty sure that this was at the intersection of East Abram, Fielder, and West Division streets in Arlington. There is now an overpass, but there used to be a grade-level railroad crossing. The memorial site had to be on West Division somewhere west of Fielder. This is old Highway 80.
As kids in the '50s, we were told all about Death Crossing by our parents, who were students at NTAC (now UTA), and by our grandmother, who was an Arlington resident for 25 years when the population there hovered around 7,000.
Joe Bob as genius
As usual, Joe Bob Briggs manages to be so on-target in his column that it seems a shame he never gets the attention of a Laura Miller or Molly Ivins. In a just world, Howard Stern would be selling pencils, Rush Limbaugh would be digging ditches, and Joe Bob Briggs would be the one making millions of dollars for his satirical genius.
Unfortunately, the ex-Detroiter in me can't help but detect a bit of regional bias in Mr. Briggs' reception by the critics. We might accept the intelligence of a celebrity from New York, California, or even Missouri. But an intelligent celebrity from Texas and Arkansas? Even our current President had to bend over backwards trying to prove he wasn't like those other white Southerners, so what chance does Joe Bob have?
Nevertheless, Joe Bob's column on the dangers of double jeopardy [Joe Bob Briggs, February 20] does what a good piece of political satire ought to do. It makes its point, expresses it in an imaginative and humorous manner, and then it moves on. And as a Northern-born Mexican-American who has never understood why we have to call ourselves "Chicanos" to show how proud we are of our Mexican ancestry, I'll take Job Bob's mixture of straightforward humor and common sense over the liberal rhetoric of the diversity Nazis any day.
Rogelio Mendoza, Jr.
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