WhackyNation

Maybe you will think I have lost all my marbles when I write this, but I’m going to try it out on you anyway, with the hope that you won’t think I’m daft and ready for the booby hatch. Have you ever wondered, as I have wondered, about the fact that birds, animals, insects, and other living things can do many things we humans can’t?

And should we change our way of thinking about all other earthly creatures? Let me give you a for-instance: Have you ever watched a bird in flight, and, as I have, wished you could fly like it, balance ever so dangerously on a thin, wind-blown branch, and survive in the worst outdoor conditions?

Well, I have done it often — watched birds, that is — and wondered why humans, who deem themselves superior to birds, can’t emulate the robins, pigeons, hawks, eagles, and all other birds. How much more could we human beings do in life if we had the ability to float in the air and go from here to there without driving a car or catching a bus?

Regarding so-called “wild” animals, have you ever watched a giraffe pick fruit off the middle branches or the very top of a tree, without the need to climb the tree or use a ladder? And, if you have ever been accosted by a robber or murderer, don’t you wish you could have escaped with the speed of a lion, tiger, gazelle, or any of the other creatures of the jungle?

Maybe a daily swim is your thing, and you are proud of your ability to swim the length of the pool in seconds. That’s nothing compared to what you could do if you had the speed, maneuverability, and daring of all the fish in the sea. Nor could you last for more than a minute or two under water, whereas they can live beneath the surface.

Have you ever watched a huge elephant give itself a shower simply by dipping its versatile trunk in water and hosing itself thoroughly? Wish you could do that? Or maybe you’ve watched a squirrel squeeze easily through the thicket, race up and down trees, or build a home in a tree trunk — and wished you could do it, too.

It’s probable that you have an utter disdain for moles, insects, and all other smaller creatures that can live underground and burrow through a hillside in minutes, then live there, safe from other creatures that might be looking for them. Wow! Imagine what you, a human, could do if you had that capability!

I could go through the entire bird, animal, and insect world and detail the various characteristics we humans admire but cannot duplicate. But that would take an encyclopedia! Suffice it to say that we should quit boasting about our superiority and start appreciating all of God’s creatures.

And, speaking of God, I believe, as some other people do, that all His creatures have souls and, when their lives are done, go to their own Heaven. Did I hear you laughing? But I must ask you this: Can you prove that I’m wrong and that these creatures don’t have souls? Of course you can’t.

I’m not asking you to believe as I do. But, please, do me and yourself a big favor. The next time you see a bird soaring through the air or a mole burrowing quickly into the earth to reach its home underground — or any other phenomenon involving another of God’s creatures — ponder the possibility that they, too, are God’s creatures and that you wish you had their remarkable abilities, abilities we don’t have.

Listen up, Corporate America, Governments at all Levels (federal, state, and local), shopping centers, and service agencies This is an urgent appeal for all of you to make some important changes in operation that will actually enhance your ability to make a profit or improve your service drastically.

Now, hear this: Like millions of other Americans, I am sick and tired of picking up the phone to get information, only to be greeted at the other end of the phone by (a) a mumbling voice that can’t be understood, (b) a foreigner who has not yet learned to speak English clearly, (c) a whisperer who doesn’t speak up so one can hear, and (d) other dolts who sound as if the caller has interrupted their naps.

Is this complaint important? You bet your sweet life it is. Like so many of my friends and acquaintances, I have refused to do business on several occasions with stores or other agencies that hire these incompetents for the important business of manning their telephones and welcoming new or old customers.

Why do all these agencies, many of which do millions of dollars in business each week or represent extremely important services, continue to hire these incompetents? I daresay it’s a vitally important factor in the business world today and that these businesses aren’t aware of the sales they are losing or the people they are annoying to distraction.

It’s apparent to me that many of these companies or services are hiring these phone attendants because they come at a cheap price and don’t demand high wages. But in doing so, they are making a huge, economically damaging mistake. For many persons, their first association with a store or service is with the person who first answers the phone.

In today’s highly commercial world, that first association can be crucial for any company or service organization. The phone greeter who speaks clearly and slowly and who speaks good English and does not have a heavy accent that clouds understanding can be a strong asset to any agency.

Most companies, government agencies, and service organizations go to great pains to hire skilled, well trained, and experienced help to create and engineer their products — and they pay them good salaries for their efforts. Then, they bring on several low-paid persons with fractured English or poor voices to man their phones and become the first employees the public must try to talk to.

It simply makes no sense whatever. In the long run, it would be far more economical for the companies or agencies to hire the best voices or, better yet, send prospective phone greeters to school to learn how to speak good, clear English and how to speak slowly and enunciate clearly.

Finally, if these companies and agencies don’t believe they are losing money because of poor phone service, why don’t they conduct a survey of all old, new, and potential customers to discover that what I have said here is an accurate reflection of the “bad phone” situation?

Whenever Valentine’s Day came around when I was serving as commentator for Seattle’s KIRO-TV and Radio, the news producer and others used to beg me, please, to say something nice about the holiday. Of course, their idea of “something nice” was to give viewers and listeners some advice on why they should love everybody 365 days a year — and not just on Valentine’s Day.

Now, at first it seemed to be a tall order for me, since I was paid by management to deliver cryptic and often griping commentaries. Each time Valentine’s Day approached, I would say to myself finally, “Hmmmm. On second thought I may be just the guy to say something nice about the Holiday of Love.”

As I think back on those days, I have to say the same thing. Me, a paid griper? Alas! A griper no longer. After all, my wife and I have just celebrated our 65th wedding anniversary, so we must be doing something right. Or, I must add quickly, at least she is and has all that time.

My bride, Madeleine, has put up with this old professional grouch for 65 years, during which we produced four children who are as loving and caring as she is. I’m really a very lucky fellow, but I have to confess I don’t have any magic formulas for Valentine’s Day or any other day.

There’s a wonderful scene in the musical I love, “Fiddler on the Roof,” that says it all — and far better than I can with words. In the scene, Tevya, the lead character, turns to his wife and slowly and carefully asks her, “Do you love me?” She, startled, puts aside her sewing or knitting and sings her response.

I don’t remember the words of the tune, but I certainly remember the sense of her answer. She reminds Tevya that she prepares all his meals three times a day, washes and irons ll his clothes daily, cleans the house regularly, gives him children and takes care of them from morning to midnight, shares all his troubles and joys, and now, suddenly, he wants to know “Do you love me”!

Of course, the answer and the meaning are crystal clear. Tevya is more than satisfied, and he sings his response, which is acknowledgement that she does love him as much as he loves her. It’s a memorable duet that no one can forget after leaving the theater — nor forget on Valentine’s Day, very appropriately.

The meaning of the scene is specially appropriate on this and all other Valentine’s Days — but also every day of the year for couples young and old. It says love is not love alone, but humility, sacrifice, hard work, selflessness instead of selfishness, and a concentration on the problems and needs of others, not yourself alone.

Above all, love should never have to endure on lectures like this one! I hope I have made my point. I wish you a wonderful, loving, caring Valentine’s Day, a sentiment I hope you will convey to your loved one — not only on this February 14^th but on every other day of this year and all the years that follow!

OK, now you have only 364 more days to go before I deliver another Valentine’s Day lecture!

The death last week of President Harry Truman’s only daughter, Margaret Truman Daniel, revived memories of the days I served as a music critic for the Seattle Times. One of those memories involved Margaret’s appearance in Seattle while touring as a soprano in the early 1950s.

It was just one of the many different careers Margaret tried in a very active life, but it was the one that sticks in the mind above all others. The reason was that she became an extremely controversial figure in the music world after a concert performance in the national capital’s Constitution Hall.

It started after the Washington Post’s music critic, Paul Hume, wrote a rather scathing criticism of the soprano. After observing that “she didn’t sing very well,” Hume wrote that she “was flat most of the time” and that “she had no professional finish.” In short, he said she was not suited to a concert career as a singer.

Hume’s criticism infuriated Margaret’s father, who proceeded to blister Hume and all music critics who dared say such nasty things about his daughter. It was a typical tirade by Harry Truman, who never hesitated to say exactly what was on his mind. Most of all, he felt he had to go to the defense of his beloved daughter.

Later, as Margaret continued her concert tour, Harry and Bess Truman noted that their daughter was well received by audiences, despite the continuing severe critiques of newspaper critics. At the time, I was one of those critics and I was aware of the national fuss Margaret had created in the press.

Margaret arrived in Seattle a day before her scheduled concert, and I was invited to interview her. I quickly accepted. The interview went smoothly. I found her to be absolutely charming, quick to answer questions, and extremely pleasant. I said so in the interview published the following day.

The concert, however, was a disappointment, to say the least. I found that Hume had been right in his criticism of the soprano. Her singing throughout was uninspired and, as Hume had said, she was flat most of the time.

As a responsible music critic, I had to tell the truth about what I heard, and I did so in the next day’s newspaper. As expected, Truman aficionados called or wrote to the newspaper expressing their antagonism to the Times’ music critic, who had dared criticize the daughter of the American President.

It was a discomforting experience. One day I found Margaret to be a tremendous personality — and the next I had to criticize her performance harshly. Fortunately, she went on to other careers, distinguishing herself as an author of best-sellers. I was happy for her and relieved that she had given up her concert career.

I hope you won’t mind if I brag a little. One of the first-place television-commentary awards I am proudest of is one I received in Washington State TV competition a couple decades ago. If you don’t mind, I am going to repeat the commentary I made back then which brought the award; to wit:

“There must be room for compassion in the regulation-filled bureaucracy. The case of Agnes and Frank Robinson is a case in point. I’ve talked to a number of persons in high places in federal, regional, and state health positions. And on the telephone and in person they sound sincere and sympathetic to the needs of people like the Robinsons.

“But they seem to be inhibited so much by regulatory red tape that no one in authority will risk making a decision from the heart. The Robinsons have been at the same rest home. He is 82 and she is 81. Mrs. Robinson is very seriously ill and needs constant care.

“Mr. Robinson is slightly better off, but not much. Medicaid regulators say he’s well enough to move out, but his doctor insists he must have the regular care he can get in a rest home.

“Following regulations to a “T,” Medicaid officials say they’ll cut off his aid funds if he doesn’t move out of the rest home as soon as possible. The move would save the state a few hundred dollars a month, but Mr. Robinson would have to leave his wife and the home under Medicaid orders.

“I think the state has underestimated Mr. Robinson’s condition to suit its bureaucratic principles. But at this stage, that’s almost beside the point. This media observer believes there are emotional, human factors the regulators should consider in this case.

“Federal authorities in Washington, D.C., told me that such policy with regard to the infirm and the elderly is up to each state to formulate and follow as it deems necessary. In that light, I suggest the local Medicaid officials make a judgment from the heart and let Agnes and Frank Robinson live out their lives together in the same rest home.”

That’s how I ended the commentary. Then, with the permission of station management at Seattle’s KIRO-TV and Radio, I repeated the commentary at least three or four times in two days. I didn’t expect what happened. The station received several hundred phone calls from viewers and listeners saying they had seen and heard the commentary and that something should be done to help the Robinsons in their predicament. At the same time, the state’s Medicaid office was bombarded by irate citizens demanding that the Robinsons be permitted to live out their lives at the rest home.

In short order, the Washington State director of the Medicaid program altered the agency’s rules and decided that from that time on, elderly couples would be permitted to live together in state rest homes when one of them was seriously ill. That is the present rule in the state, and it has now become permanent.

Now you know why I cherish the urgent commentary I delivered in the compelling case of Agnes and Frank Robinson. And the award that grew out of it is one that I cherish above all others on my fireplace mantle.

Let’s see now. America’s principal, overriding problem is the international war on terror and its manifestation in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. At home, one of the major problems, as I see it, is Big Government and the continuing slide toward Socialism. The economy is good, but the stock market keeps fluctuating.

Anything else? Of course, there are other problems here and there. But one that is alarming and growing is a problem seldom referred to and for which no solutions seem to be forthcoming. That problem may turn out to be the most serious of all, because it involves what is sometimes referred to as “the American dream.”

The problem? Americans are growing soft and spoiled because they are “over-entertained,” as I see it. Historians have told us time and again that prospering nations, from the old Roman and Greek Empires to those of recent times, begin fading away when their populations become too comfortable, too well fed, and “over-entertained.” That’s my description, not that of the historians, but it suits the situation extremely well.

Our adults and our children have become accustomed to the “easy life” and daily doses of entertainment. We crave entertainment — sports of all kinds, an unending supply of movies, parties (not the political kind), night life, and, now, the worst of them all because it affects adults and children alike, TV watching.

It may be that the last one, hour upon hour of being mesmerized by the electronic tube, symbolizes our greatest challenge because it is so convenient and so persistent. Children, especially, are its greatest victims, because they are “trapped by the tube,” as it were, instead of reading or doing their homework.

It’s little wonder that America has fallen so far behind most other developed nations in education. Some say the reason for that is our failure to provide the funding our schools need to produce better-educated youngsters. I don’t buy that. I think the main reason is that our children waste too much time being entertained and not enough time with their books, their homework, and their learning.

And the downward trend is growing worse by the year. Is there anything we can do about it? In commentaries in recent years, I have offered one practical solution: End the homework schools dish out to the kids, homework they don’t do anyway or don’t do well. Add an hour to the school day, during which the students can do the “homework.”

Of course, there are other ways we can help reverse the downward trend — like increasing discipline in all the schools, requiring parents or other relatives to become interested in the child’s school work, offering some incentives to children to encourage them to read more and study more, and raising the standards of scholarship in all schools, from grade school through the colleges.

We should heed the warning of the historians, who have indicated that the American Empire could emulate the demise of the Greek, Roman, and other empires because their people became “over-entertained.”

On this day each year, I like to turn to all the members of my family, including the great-grandchildren, all my friends, and all the persons with whom I have business associations, and wish them not only a terrific year but also a happy, pleasant, and successful one.

However, as is my custom, I also would like to wish a super year to some very special people who are always on my mind, even though I have never met most of them and don’t know their names. They are not the celebrities of this world — the TV, radio, and movie stars nor the men and women who run government, industry, and agriculture.

No, they are the millions of unsung, hard-working, loving, and caring people who go about their daily lives of service to others without riches and without any form of recognition — but with the greatest love for their families, their friends, the disabled, the poor, and the unfortunates of many kinds.

Among these unsung heroes who will be found in large numbers across the world in every nation are the parents who sacrifice themselves daily to provide a better life for their children, their relatives, and even their friends. They include the Samaritans who thrive on helping others without waiting around for a reward or a thank-you.

I also think of those noble souls who risk their lives for others constantly — the cop on the beat or in the first-aid car, the firefighter who never asks why when rushing into a fire to save another human, the doctor and nurse serving in the emergency room, the kindly nursing-home attendant — and any other Joe or Mary who immediately offers a helping hand, not because it was requested but because it was simply the humane thing to do.

Someone once said that the true heroes of this world never tell their own story, and I sincerely believe that. Some also say that the true heroes of this world will have to wait until they get to heaven for their rightful reward, but I certainly don’t believe that to be the case.

I think the world’s true heroes, the persons to whom I am addressing this note of thanks, actually do receive their rewards each day of their lives from the serene internal happiness their own kindness returns to them. This kind of daily heroism needs no headlines, no acclamation, no financial or other reward.

In effect, these unsung heroes are able to bring peace and comfort to others because peace and comfort dwell constantly within them. That’s why I wish them the happiest and most satisfying year in 2008, as well as for every year thereafter. And I add a heartfelt “Thank You” and “God bless you,” as well.

Several years ago, research scientists discovered what they said was a promising new treatment for rheumatoid arthritis — a concoction made from chicken bones, no less! Will wonders never cease?

Shucks! Where have those scientists been all these years? When I was a small boy — and that was a long time ago — the accepted home remedy for virtually all ailments was a steaming bowl of chicken soup, mainly because it tasted a whole lot better than all that brown and green goop doctors used to prescribe.

Way back then, it didn’t matter whether a friend — or even little Luigi (that was me) — had a bad cold, a hacking cough, the measles, chicken pox, or even a broken toe; the instant remedy was a bowl of chicken soup that was so hot you had to wait a half hour before you could take the first spoonful.

Just let it be known in those days that little Luigi had a fever, and within five minutes, Mrs. Paciagallupo or even Mrs. Nussbaum was there ringing the doorbell with one hand and holding a steaming bowl of chicken soup with the other in a magnificent balancing act.

In all those years, Dr. Whosit or Dr. Whatchamacallum would nod wisely when called in and say something like, “It won’t do any good, but, oh, well, it wouldn’t hurt.”

Now, after all these years, by gum, Drs. Whosit and Whatchamacallum have to admit they were all wrong. The modern researchers, who hail from Boston, have proved that chicken soup is a bonafide cure for arthritis and maybe a lot of other ailments, too.

It’s too bad my Dear Old Mom isn’t around any more so I could apologize to her for all the nasty things I said about Mrs. Paciagallupo’s hot soup!

Harrumph! Doctors…! Whattathey know?

Look at the millions and trillions of dollars in profits the Campbell Soup people have made with their chicken soup over the years. Did they get their recipe for their chicken soup from Drs. Whosit and Whatchamacallum? Heck, no! I’ll bet that somewhere on their cooking staff were the likes of cooks like Mrs. Nussbaum and Mrs. Paciagallupo!

I’m sure you’ve heard it said or written that one of the major curses of democracy is that lawmakers keep piling on more and more unnecessary laws and regulations each year — mainly because they don’t know how to stop or, worse, that they refuse to stop because all those laws support their political power.

It’s the “bet you can’t eat just one” principle made famous by Madison Avenue in its volley of newspaper, magazine, and TV/radio ads. The penchant for adding law after law in federal, state, and local governments could be ascribed to greed, incompetence, or just plain stupidity and disregard for the real needs of citizens.

Whatever the reason, I don’t believe anyone — except politicians, that is — will dispute the fact that we have far too many laws and don’t know how to junk them. Well, I think have the answer, at last — if only the nation’s voters would be willing to consider it and act upon it.

Mark this: If the American people are in earnest about putting an end to the glut of laws and regulations that have marked the creation of monstrously BIG government, all they have to do is take action necessary to write and pass just one more! That’s right, just one more!

The “one more” could be in the form of an amendment to the United States Constitution and to the constitutions of all 50 states — as well as the charters of every city and county in America. Tall order, you say? Not really. It could be one law or amendment that would be written in the same way for all governments, from the federal down to the smallest municipal government.

And that amendment would read something like this: “Any public official proposing a new law would also be required to select another existing law, already on the books, that would automatically be repealed on the same date the new amendment is adopted.” Is that clear enough? I think it is eminently clear.

It’s a relatively simple concept. To pass one law, lawmakers would be duty-bound to kill another one that has been on the books — sometimes for a century or more. It’s a sort of political eye-for-an-eye technique that would not only stem the flood of new and unnecessary legislation, but also get rid of a lot of old, outmoded, and useless laws.

I first introduced the idea many years ago in newspaper columns and have repeated it in editorials, TV and radio commentaries, and speeches I have delivered while on the national lecture circuit. Reaction to it has been mixed, but most of it has leaned toward the notion that “it’s a great idea but impossible to get passed.”

I’m not so sure that it’s an impossible law. Frankly, if the idea is properly presented to public assemblies, to readers of newspapers and magazines, and to radio listeners and television viewers, I believe it would soon catch on and be accepted and favored by more than 90 percent of the people.

Would important, necessary laws be endangered? Hardly. Each new law would have to target the law to be repealed; as a result, the legislative body considering any new law would have to consider the impact of the elimination of the old law that would be repealed. Simple, isn’t it?

One of the major nuisances faced daily by sports stars, movie and TV/Radio personalities, political figures, and all others in the limelight is the ever-present autograph hound, who thrusts a piece of paper or an article of apparel in the face of the cornered celebrity, demanding an autograph.

With rare exceptions, the celebrities feel they must provide an autograph or face the wrath of the “public.” In fact, most of these autograph hounds measure the popularity of their idols by their willingness to sign autographs. Having interviewed so many celebrities in my news-media experience, I know that virtually all of them detest autograph seekers, but they don’t dare say so out loud.

Is there a way out for the celebrities — a way to cut down on these hordes of pen-in-hand autograph wackos? I think there is a great way out of the dilemma; I proposed it several years ago in TV and radio commentaries and in speeches on several occasions. Unfortunately, the celebrities haven’t adopted the idea, even though it would work to their advantage in several ways.

I proposed that these stars of cinema, stage, sports, TV, radio, and public office have business cards printed with their names and a place for their signature on one side and a message somewhat like this on the reverse side:

“I am pleased to offer you this autographed card with the hope that you will honor me with a donation of any size to my favorite charity….(the name and address of the charity).”

That’s the general idea of the message. Of course, the celebrity could phrase it in any way he or she pleased. Also, the celebrity could sign the cards in advance and simply hand them out to the autograph seekers or, if he or she wished, sign them as the cards were handed out. Advance signing would be far more convenient and would eliminate those long, crowded sessions the celebrities must endure before and after performances, games, or whatever.

And suppose the pestiferous autograph hound refused to be satisfied with an autographed card. Tough. The celebrity has done his or her duty, and the fan can lump it. How could the signature seeker complain — and to whom?

I’ll wager that if celebrities adopted this idea, they would find that the long lines of autograph seekers would soon diminish, and, just maybe, their charities would receive some unexpected donations. Presto! Two good results simultaneously!

I hope you don’t mind this very personal and deeply felt note of thanks on this important date that is uniquely American, Thanksgiving Day. First, I give thanks to all those great and not-so-great citizens of the past who created and expanded the American Dream as it became the planet’s most remarkable cradle of freedom and liberty.

I thank my wonderful father and mother, both of whom had the willingness and foresight to leave Italy and play a role in the American Dream. The greatest gift they could have given me and my brother and sister was the privilege of being born in and enjoying the freedoms provided by this great nation.

I give thanks, too, for all those teachers and friends who played a role in my education and training — especially George H. Taylor, the high-school English teacher, a true martinet, who pounded all the best basics of writing into my young brain and made my career as a writer, journalist, and communicator a possibility.

I thank all those marvelous souls along the way who guided my interests in music, playing the violin and piano, absorbing all aspects of the visual and performing arts, and learning the rudiments and the profundities of running a large daily newspaper, as well as the fundamentals of television and radio broadcasts.

But, most of all, I thank the Lord for giving me the greatest gifts of them all — a beautiful, deeply loving and caring wife, Madeleine, and four of the finest children in the world — Judy, Richard, and the twins, Lynne and Diane — as well as a bevy of the most adorable grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

I have been lucky enough to attract so many super friends that I cannot list them all. But they know who they are. And I rely on them for an almost daily supplement of kind words, good ideas, and even a deserved scold when I have stepped out of line or said an unkind word.

How lucky can a man be in this day and age of worldwide terrorism and conflict, poverty-stricken nations, and terrible disease? The answer is a man can be as lucky as I have been. Yes, I have had to hurdle or circumvent a variety of problems, setbacks, and ailments.

But I insist that I am the luckiest man alive for all the reasons I have put forward in this commentary and for many more I can’t detail at this moment. All of it points to one more major point in my adventurous life: I owe it all, really, to my faith, my strong, never bending belief in God.

It was a faith instilled in me by my saintly Mom and Dad. For instance, I remember vividly the time I was stricken with a very serious ailment when I was about 7 years old. My Mom picked up a crucifix, held it over me, and prayed to St. Joseph, the patron saint of the Catholic Church. I won’t call it a miracle, but my 104-degree fever dropped to normal that night, and my recovery began the next morning. Did St. Joe do it, as my mother stated?

Of course he did! I told you I was the luckiest man alive, didn’t I? Happy Thanksgiving!

I have a gigantic pet peeve, and I’ll bet that everyone reading this shares it with me, perhaps even without realizing it. It’s this: Cities and towns across the nation have let their road signs go to hell, and most of them aren’t doing a thing about it — and probably don’t intend to, pleading that they can’t afford to do anything about it.

Street signs in every city I’ve been in during the past 30 years or so — and that’s a lot of cities — are in such a state of disrepair for the most part that they are useless for the driver or even the stroller. In addition, too many signs are obliterated by branches of trees that have been permitted to grow beyond reason, as well as beyond tree-trimming crews.

Even in many cases in which street signs are visible to a motorist, they are frequently painted in white on green. Why green? White letters or numbers on green are among the most difficult to read from a distance. In some cities, street signs are white on black, as they should be, but, unfortunately, the street signs are so small they can’t be read from a distance, or they are so dirty they can’t be read.

If you’re like me, you frequently have had to read road signs from your car in order to find a home or a building that is not easy to spot. And if you’re like me, you frequently have been lost because you missed a street or a turn because you couldn’t make out one or more signs along the way.

Don’t ask professional truck drivers who deliver the mail or department-store packages if they have any trouble finding addresses. They have been at it for so long that they already know every twist and turn and every hidden street without having to read road signs. They’re no help.

I think there should be a national campaign to improve street signs, because I am convinced there are many others like me who have lost their way on many occasions, thanks to illegible or tree-hidden street signs.

Most street signs are too small to be easily visible from the road. They should be much larger. Also, all signs should be white on black. And, finally, because road signs collect dirt daily, city road crews should wash them from time to time.

Oh, yes, one more thing: All of us beleaguered motorists could use a small traveler’s dictionary that would explain how a boulevard differs from an ordinary road, why an avenue is an avenue and not a street, what the definition of a court, a place, or a street is — as well as any of the other names given to a stretch of concrete or asphalt automobiles are supposed to use.

By the way, who is the demonic genius who thought up this morbid street sign seen all too often: Dead End!

Others can observe the Monday date for Columbus Day — a day to provide the “three-day-holiday” clan an excuse to extend its time-off mania — but today, October 12, is the historic and correct day to honor the courageous Italian mariner, Christopher Columbus, who landed his fleet in the New World late in the 15^th Century.

How well I remember the October 12^th festivities in Cleveland’s Little Italy, where I grew up. The Italian community went all out with a spectacular parade, entertainment, and all-day feasting. Of course, we had to put up with the politicians and other self-appointed leaders, who insisted on making speeches in the neighborhood.

But it was “Our Day,” as the Italian-Americans, most of them new immigrants or the sons and daughters of the new immigrants, loved to refer to October 12. The public school in the heart of the district always closed its doors on Our Day; it didn’t dare require the kids to attend classes on the special day.

Also, no one dared make reference to the Scandinavians’ oft-repeated declaration that it was really Leif Eriksen who discovered America, not Columbus. Insofar as I can remember, no Swede or Norwegian dared set foot inside Little Italy on October 12 to pooh-pooh the Columbus claim.

To this day, I haven’t changed my mind about Columbus’ extraordinary feat. It was he who opened the way and discarded the myths about the New World. Yes, he was looking for a new route to the Far East, but he found something that was to prove to be the greatest nation the world has ever known.

The Indian tribes of America have a much greater claim to the title of discoverer and founder of the Western Hemisphere. They were here in large numbers long before the three ships in the Columbus expedition arrived on our shores. But it was Columbus who opened the way to the west and who encouraged others to follow.

It’s hard to believe that many Old World adherents seriously believed that mariners daring to sail due west into the unknown would disappear and fall off the earth into calamitous waterfalls. Other myths discouraged travel westward. It was Columbus who dispelled such myths and opened the way to the New World.

God bless America — and Columbus!

The lowly penny isn’t worth much any more in any store, bank, or wherever these days. But should we pay attention to those “penny-pinchers” (pun intended) who are demanding that we get rid of the copper coin because it is, they say, worthless and just a hindrance in our daily shopping and stuff?

Instead of giving them the time of day, whatever that’s worth, I have to agree with the large majority of penny backers who said in a Gallup Poll some time back that the penny is too valuable in our culture to be dis-penced with (please pardon the pun again, but isn’t this fun?).

Hey! While I’m at it, ditto for the $1 bill, which the same crowd wants to retire, for goodness’ sake! I’m positive, and so are millions of others, that something very important would go out of the American way of life if we banned all $1 bills, as well as the pennies you and I have been saving.

What would happen to the 79-cent sale or the dollar ninety-nine bargain at the places you shopped so often in keen anticipation of finding a bargain? Well, maybe the stuff isn’t in the “bargain” category, but at least it’s the stuff that keeps our morale up — as well as the fairy-tale notion that maybe you can still buy something for that little money.

So, go ahead and take away the penny, if you dare, and round every thing out to the nearest nickel — and guess who in our midst would really take it on the chin? Why, those unfortunate human beings who can least afford the increase, that’s who, or is it whom?

Before you say “Yes” to the next poll on the subject, just think about what elimination of the penny would do to our colorful language and tradition.

For ages upon ages, the poor people of our nation are “penniless” — not “dimeless” or “quarterless.” They couldn’t even be called “nickelless” — unless their names were Jack and they played superb golf (who has more than Jack Nicklaus’ share of nickels?).

Now, then, if you have been meditating heavily and looking as if you may have just found a gold mine in your backyard, I must shake you awake and tell you I’d gladly give you a penny for your thoughts, provided, of course, that you haven’t voted for a ban on the lowly one-cent coin.

As for getting rid of the dollar bill, some clown has suggested that we should get rid of it and replace it with a one-buck coin, because the bill is unsanitary and collects all sorts of germs as it travels through the populace. Now, I submit that that idea is patently ridiculous — even without a patent!

If I’m not mistaken, the dollar-coin idea has already been floated — if you can get a coin that big to float, of course — and it hasn’t been very popular. Regarding the clown who said the dollar is unsanitary, if he had thought seriously about it, he would have realized that the value of a dollar has depreciated so much in these inflated days that not even a self-respecting germ could live on it!

And, please pardon the expression, if we got rid of the dollar bill, how in the world would we ever be able to pass the buck?

“Thank you.” “Please…” “I’m sorry.” “Please forgive me.” “After you, please.” “Is this seat taken?” “May I open the door for you, Madame?”

These and many, many other remarks of courtesy and good manners are frowned upon by certain members of society as the language of the upper crust or “sissies.” They avoid such niceties, lest they be typed as “the elite” — or, to put it bluntly, the pantywaists among us.

For as long as I can remember, courtesy and good manners have struck the rednecks and other clods in society as marks of weakness or, in the case of males, effeminate behavior. Even today, that notion persists.

Perhaps it persists because those who write about or preach courtesy and good manners continue to misrepresent the deep importance of those two attributes. Blame it on the Emily Posts and others like her who have written books and columns about such things.

I firmly believe that courtesy and good manners are every bit as important and vital as all the other virtues we prize in modern-day society.

Try this one for starters. An invited guest arrives at the home of a friend and, immediately upon entering the home or apartment, doffs his cap or her hat. Simple action? Yes, but it’s a lot more. It’s an immediate sign of respect for the host or hostess, just as keeping the cap or hat on is an immediate sign of disrespect.

How many persons do you know who forget or refuse to say “Thank you” for a favor granted or “Please” when asking for an item or a service?

If you are a male, do you always open a door and let a woman in first, or do you rush in and let the woman fend for herself?

Small thing, you say? Once again, opening a door for a woman, whether friend or stranger, is a mark of respect, not simply something ordained by Emily Post or some other authority on “manners.”

What I am trying to say is that a society that stresses and practices courtesy toward others and good manners is a society that is caring and loving in all matters and has set the stage for generations of decent human beings to come. Politeness and good manners rate equally with honesty, courage, kindness, and caring in my book — and they should with every person who seeks respect from others and is eager to extend it, as well.