The McCollumn - 7/27: "Just shut up and give me my chicken nuggets and waffle fries"

Why has fried chicken become political?

All week, we’ve been bombarded across social and regular media sites about Chick-fil-A president Dan Cathy’s recent comments about gay marriage and he and his company’s opposition to said issue.

Since those statements, calls for bans and protests for the Southern chicken chain have come swiftly from the left, with cries of support and undying devotion coming from the right.

Boston mayor Thomas Menino has said he hopes to ban the eatery from opening locations in his city until they change their minds on the issue of marriage equality.

Facebook events for “Same Sex Kiss day at Chick-fil-A” and “One Man, One Woman - Let’s Support Chick-fil-A Day” have popped up, with activists promising to blanket local locations and let their voices be heard.

Even the Muppets have weighed in on this hot-button issue, severing their ties with Chick-fil-A and donating any profits from the company to gay rights causes.

The fine people at Nabisco caused a similar brouhaha a few weeks ago when they released online an image of a rainbow-colored Oreo in support of Gay Pride Week and equal rights efforts. The company experienced similar backlash/praise from various factions in this particular fight, getting over 20,000 comments on Facebook.

While I’ve always believed it’s important to stay informed and have opinions on the major political and social issues of our time, I feel forced to take a step back from this situation and try to view it from a different sort of seeing space.

At the end of the day, I’m forced to come to this conclusion - it’s just food.

The views and opinions of a company’s owners and employees on various political issues could be, I suppose, a factor in whether or not they get your business, but I worry we begin our way down a slippery slope if we start to let those opinions vary our purchasing decisions.

If you’re going to ban Chick-fil-A for their “intolerance” or Nabisco for their “permissiveness,” you better go ahead and make a chart with every major American restaurant chain and company and figure out where you can and can’t eat.

If you like the gays, you may have to stop going by Wal-Mart for your groceries and other sundries - the company has long supported “traditional family values.” You may want to avoid Lowe’s, too.

If you’re a militant traditional marriage enthusiast, you’ll have to avoid shopping at JC Penney and Best Buy.

You’ll also get the treat of explaining to your children why we can’t see Pixar’s latest flick “Brave,” because the company has always been known to support gay rights. Ditto any other Disney film, for that matter.

If you limit your purchasing to only the companies whose views align with your own, you may find that your new world will consist of few places you can shop and enjoy.

While you may not love a business’s stance, the idea of banning or shunning said business seems to be unnecessary and more than a bit silly.

To be honest, while I fully support marriage equality efforts personally, I won’t let my stance on the issues affect where and when I shop.

I love Chick-fil-A. You can’t taste the intolerance, try though you might.

Take a step back, breathe and let’s all think before we make rash decisions like this.

We live in a country that’s already too divided and fractured on almost every major issue.

Rigorous, unchecked partisanship is now the norm.

Please, I beg you, don’t add business bans and protest lunches to that insanity.

My poor stomach just can’t take it.

Author's note: If you really want to do something about marriage equality, contact your elected officials and people who can make the legislative decisions that actually affect this issue. A chicken restaurant has little to no ability to craft and pass sweeping legislation.

The McCollumn - 7/20: "Think before you forward - and type"

Left to their own devices, the consonants ‘f,’ ‘w’ and ‘d’ are fairly innocuous.

We find them in words like “foreshadow,” not doing any harm to anyone.

While they have proven to be useful letters in our vernacular, there is one particular usage of them that I will soon be forced to no longer tolerate.

Fw. FW. Fwd. FWD. Or some such variation.

Every time I see such mashups, I can’t reach for the delete button quickly enough.

Flee from such e-mails, dear readers, for these days, few things but untruths and misdirections await you if you click and open.

Those letters should serve as a grave warning. The more times they appear (as in the subject “Fwd: FWD: fw: Fwd: President Obama Hates the Troops), the less seriously you should actually take the “facts” presented within said e-mail.

(For that matter, these messages also tend to have subject lines written by people with no understanding of modern captialization practices. THERE IS NO NEED TO WRITE IN ALL CAPS AT ANY TIME. IT MAKES YOU SOUND AS IF YOU ARE CONSTANTLY YELLING AND MAKES YOU LOOK MORE THAN A BIT FOOLISH. PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, SWEET AND GOOD, STOP THE INSANITY AND STOP THE ALL CAPS.)

What pretends to be fact backed by figures is often scantilly-clad fiction, able to quickly be undressed and shamed by a quick visit to numerous fact-checking websites.

It should, perhaps, serve as commentary that as soon as these “NEWS YOU SHOULD KNOW” e-mails pop up, one of the aforementioned fact checking sites go to work to test its validity.

I don’t wish to offend any of the wonderful friends who like to e-mail me, even if 98.3 percent of it is the “Fwd” sort of mail.

But, would it be too difficult for all of us to perhaps do our own fact-checking the next time we get one of these multi-forwarded messages.

Trust me when I say it isn’t that hard to Google a few lines of the text and find an appropriate site to help ferret out the truth.

And, if the message passes muster, by all means, pass it along and give all your friends the vital information they will surely need for their everyday life.

But, if the “facts” prove to be false, as I’ve often found they do, maybe you shouldn’t “Fwd” this one along.

In fact, it might be a nice thing to message back the person who tagged you with the posting and inform them of the error.

I know if I was spreading slander, I’d want my friends to let me know and stop me from doing it.

Let’s all use just a modicum of discretion and think before we forward.

The McCollumn - 7/13: "Am I going to have to call a 'beer summit'?"

Author's note: Several of you have asked to see the Letter to the Editor that was the basis for this column. The link is here: http://opelikaobserver.com/opinions/letters-to-the-editor/649-6-29-mccollumn-had-a-few-errors .
Certainly not the worst piece of hate mail I've received. I dare say it won't be the last one either.




Enough of you have cautiously approached me over the course of this week to ask me a certain question that I feel the need to address it here, with all of you, to prevent any further confusion.

In last week’s issue of the Opelika Observer, Opelikan Haskel Patterson wrote a hard-hitting Letter to the Editor about a column I had written the week before.

Patterson was passionate in his letter, stating his beliefs with certainty and taking time to point out what he believed were my inconsistencies with great aplomb.

He obviously disagreed with a number of points, and stated so, boldly and vigorously.

He wrote from his heart and said exactly what he wanted and needed to say - embodying the Haskel Patterson I’ve known and respected for more than 20 years now.

You see, dear readers, Haskel and I are actually fairly well acquainted.

Haskel and his wonderful wife Lynn make up one-third of a group of close-knit families that includes Tim and Betsy Gore and my own parents, Homer and Liz McCollum.

Haskel taught me Sunday School in 11th grade, the last year I actually attended Sunday School on a regular basis. When he stopped teaching, I stopped going.

I know the man, I respect the man ... and, dare I say it? ... I may even love the irascible coot. 

I certainly think of him as an extended member of my own family, an extra uncle to keep me on my toes - the slightly libertarian one who isn’t afraid to lob political bombs at family gatherings.

What you saw in last week’s letter was, truthfully, a continuation of a political argument Haskel and I have been having since around 2004.

Almost every time we see one another, either he or I will start in on a recent political news event and then we’ll get down to arguing, debating, ruminating and ranting while the other assembled family members either duck for cover or wait for the one-liners sure to stream out.

He forces me to question my beliefs on major issues, and holds me to defend said positions, attacking with the ferocity of a prosecuting attorney.

The letter he wrote was comparatively tamer to what I’d get from Haskel were he yelling at me in the flesh.

What many of you may have interpreted as anger or rage is more likely a frustration similar to banging one’s head against the wall. Haskel’s been saying most of that stuff to me for almost a decade now, and it still hasn’t sunk into my “ivory tower intellectual skull.”

Over the years, I’ve come to appreciate Haskel’s candor and gumption.

Knowing there’s someone out there who’s always going to be willing to speak his mind and say his piece, come what may, has inspired me to be bolder in my own beliefs and actions.

We may not agree on most issues, but we still are able to sit down at the end of the day and share a mutual respect for one another.

Our differences of belief do not and should not ever keep us from being friends.

He may think of me as “a lily-livered, bleeding heart, liberal, eggheaded communist.”

I might sometimes style him “a gun-toting, redneck right-wing nutbar.”

But...

As long as there are Coen Brother flicks...

As long as there are Sopranos episodes...

As long as there are local “idiots” we can both agree to despise...

We should be just fine.

But, just in case - 

Haskel, if we need to have a “beer summit” to work this out, just give me a call.

I’ll gladly bring you a pack of whatever you think is best.

I’ll even tack on a pack of cider for myself.

If it takes sitting at a table all day and hammering out some sort of treatise, so be it, sir.

But, readers as my witness, there will be Peace in our time.

The McCollumn - 7/6: "Twenty-somethings and Winston Churchill"

As part of the requirements for participating in the city’s 20 Under 40 Program, I find myself having to prepare the first book report I’ve written since, I believe, Glenna Weaver’s 10th grade English class in 2001.

For my text, I’ve chosen a personal favorite, Sir Winston Churchill’s “My Early Life,” an autobiographical account that skims along the adolesence and young adulthood of the famed British prime minister.

During my daily readings, I happened across a passage that caught my eye, owing to the fact I had just reached the august age of 26 not a day before.

While I may have happened on this bit of wisdom too late, perhaps it may serve as a reminder to those among us who still have the prime of their days before them:

Twenty to twenty-five! These are the years!

(“Missed it by that much,” I said to myself in my best Don Adams impression).

Don’t be content with things as they are.

(Reject complacency.)

The earth is yours and the fulness thereof. Enter upon your inheritance, accept your responsiblities.

(Be prepared to take hold of what the world has in store for you, but realize the awesome responsibilities that come with those honors. Think a sense of Duty, capitalized for emphasis.)

Raise the glorious flags again, advance them upon the new enemies, who constantly gather upon the front of the human army, and have only to be assaulted to be overthrown.

(Do not shy away from a fight you know to be just and true; if you fight for justice you can never truly lose. Also, in most instances, those enemies and bullies will flee at the first signs of a dedicated resistance.)

Don’t take No for an answer.

(This should not require further explanation.)

Never submit to failure.

(Ditto.)

Do not be fobbed off with mere personal success or acceptance.

(Use what you have for the betterment of others, not just your own personal ends. We never succeed more than when we help others.)

You will make all kinds of mistakes; but as long as you are generous and true, and also fierce, you cannot hurt the world or even seriously distress her.

(You will mess up. It may even be disastrous within your own little bubble world. But, everyone else has screwed up just as badly and lived to tell the tale. Churchill had Gallipoli, where over 200,000 Allied troops died during WWI; whatever you had will pale by comparison, I promise.)

She (the world) was made to be wooed and won by youth. She has lived and thrived only by repeated subjugations.

(Get out there and make something of yourselves. You won’t do anything just sitting here resting on your laurels.)

--------

Well, there you have it, young people.

Go forth and do. Don’t fear failure, and know there are a host of us here standing with you at all times.

The McCollumn - 6/29: 'Love thy neighbor?' What's his party affiliation?

Republican.

Democrat.

Libertarian.

Green.

Reform. 

Even Independent, I suppose.

It seems these days, now more so than any time I can remember, we are more likely to identify ourselves by party affiliation almost immediately.

We mention our favorite politicians to help clue in where we fall on the vast political spectrum.

A Marco Rubio/Jim DeMint enthusiast should be believed to toe the “Tea Party” line; likewise, a Bernie Sanders/Dennis Kucinich fanatic might be considered so far to the left that “Socialist” might actually be an apt description.

We rattle off statistics about our pet issues, railing against such favorite targets as the National Endowment for the Arts and ‘Obamacare’ or tax cuts for the “One Percent.”

We stand, as a nation, largely divided, with the country divided into wide swaths of Democratic blue and Republican red, with splotches of undecided purple popping up here and there.

Even basic facts are up for partisan debate.

One can take a news event and, by searching for the appropriate media filter, find a report of that event that will align with your own political views.

Need a right-wing slant on the days events? Try Fox News or visit the Drudge Report.

Jonesing for some liberal spin? MSNBC and the Huffington Post are there waiting for you.

(And anyone still left dead center could, I suppose, watch CNN, but that network’s ratings suggest either no one is left in the political center or that everyone misses Larry King’s suspenders.)

While I suppose it’s nice to get a version of the world so narrowly-tailored to our political views, shouldn’t it be worrisome that facts and data are open to this much interpretation and molding?

When numbers and reports can be spun to fit any group’s whims or beliefs, “fact” loses its mantle of absolute truth, and we all suffer.

When “fact” is open to debate, all sorts of evils can slip into the world, as a willful exclusion of reality turns ignorance into an allegedly valid point-of view.

(i.e., anyone who believes anything about “Muslim Sharia diet law” taking over our pantries and our country.)

While it’s admirable to be politically conscious and try to take a stance on the issues of our day, we all might do best to take a step back and breathe for a moment.

Set aside the political name tags, and let’s all remember, at the end of the day, we’re all Americans.

We all love freedom.

We all love liberty.

We all love the flag, babies, apple pie and Evel Knievel.

Let’s not let the things we disagree on continue to pull us apart at the seams, folks.

Let’s sit down at the table, have a nice slice of pie and discuss things like the grown, rational individuals we are.

Then, and only then, can we begin to fix what I worry may be a gathering storm that will destroy this American dream so many have worked so long to build.

The McCollumn - 6/22: "The Publishing Room's Pencil Sharpener"

Perhaps its more than a bit silly to become sentimental over something so trivial as a pencil sharpener, but allow me an eccentricity this week.

Wednesday afternoon, Observer photographer Billy Jackson stopped by with what he deemed a “birthday present” for me from his recent trip out to Opelika high school - a high school stripped and ready to go for its soon-to-commence dismantling.

Jackson handed me a worn-looking pencil sharpener, saying he thought I might like to have it.

As I looked it over he added -

“It’s from the Publishing Room.”

Ah. Well, that certainly matters.

For those of us lucky enough to be selected for Dr. Hannah’s two-year Desktop Publishing class at Opelika High School, the Publishing Room was a great deal more than just a computer lab nestled deep in the bowels of the 6th Hall.

It introduced us to the worlds of Quark and Photoshop, letting us manipulate photos and build documents, with the eventual goal being design skills that would allow us to later be self-reliant when designing the high school’s student-created literary magazine and newspaper.

Two ancient printers, Bernice and Neil Diamond, would occasionally wheeze out the requested documents, with only the rarest of complete scream-inducing meltdowns.

It was the home of the magical radio and CD player, where you were exposed to the musical interests of your fellow classmates (unless they wanted showtunes before 9 a.m.; there are some things Dr. Hannah won’t stand for, apparently).

You slowly got used to the strange and august figure that is Dr. Charlie Hannah, the feared Senior English Teacher and Keeper of the Hannah Paper - and realize he’s really just Dr. Hannah, the sort of guy who’d sooner sit on the floor than in a chair, in case someone else wanted it.

For so many of us, that room was the start for careers we never knew we would pursue.

Without Publishing, I never would have taken a shot at The Auburn Plainsman, and, therefore, never would have made it here. (So, if you hate this rubbish column, yes, you can blame Charles Hannah).

I’m delighted to get to hold on to this small piece of what was one of the best parts of the Opelika High School I knew and loved.

While so many things about our beloved alma mater may soon begin to change, I hope we will never lose the attentive, dedicated and life-changing teachers like Dr. Hannah, who make these classrooms not just a place for imparting state-sanctioned knowledge, but for making lasting memories and creating exceptional experiences.

The McCollumn - 6/15: "Pat Hamby, the Queen of Chicken Salad"

You’d be surprised what hard work making chicken salad is.

I realize that seems to be an odd non-sequitur, but follow me, folks.

For more than 12 years, my family has been one of four owners of the Cottage Cafe, the downtown sandwich eatery open only for lunch and known for its crowd-pleasing chicken salad.

And, for eight of those years, the chicken salad so many of you have come to love has been made by one woman - Ms. Patricia Hamby.

She got up almost every morning, came to work and ground down the chicken, added the mayo and mixed in the grapes and almonds -all by hand, all by herself.

And not just small batches, mind you - pounds upon pounds upon pounds, day after day. She got to where she could tell if a batch was right not by looks, but by the way it felt when as she mixed it with her glove-clad hands.

She came to us the summer of 2004, straight from the bakery at Winn Dixie, where we knew her as the kind, helpful bakery lady who made our croissants and kaiser rolls.

She hit the ground running and was a quick learner, mainly because she soon discovered that doing the opposite of whatever I said would be the best way to go.

She arrived early, stayed late and even came in on weekends, just to make sure the job was done both right and up to her standard - which are two separate and unequal things.

She was the force that kept the restaurant going, making sure spoons and knives were stocked, checking and rechecking bank deposits and doing only God knows what else to make sure everything was present and accounted for at all times.

And, dear readers, she had to do all of this while putting up with me. No easy task, indeed.

Ms. Pat, thank you for everything you’ve done for the “Cottage Walk family.”

I’m sure we annoyed you at times (me especially), but I hope you know how much love and respect each and every one of us have for you.

I grew up working with you in that tiny cafe, learning how to mix and mingle with customers, learning the proper portions for the chicken salad plate, and, most importantly, learning that the most important things in life are faith and family - two things that I know Pat Hamby will always hold dear.

I’ll treasure the memories I have with you forever, and I hope you continue to be a frequent visitor and guest whenever you choose to venture this way.

Enjoy your retirement, though I know you’ll probably be busier now than you ever were here in downtown.

There’s grandbabies to take care of, remodeling to be done, and Mr. Van will undoubtedly need supervision - he’s been tinkering away by himself all day for far too long, and that’s never good.

We love you, Ms. Pat. Be well.

I salute and thank you, Ms. Pat - nay, Patricia, Queen of Chicken Salad.

She’s a sight better than your average “chicken salad chick,” and she always will be.

God bless and keep you, madame.

Though your reign has ended, your legend never will.