Don’t be too quick to judge
“Judge not, that ye be not judged” should sound familiar to all Christians. This biblical verse in the Bible hits home when you read of Dewey Greear in The Independent or hear the TV or radio news. Neither tells the entire story. Therefore, readers or listeners should not form an opinion of the persons involved based on them.
I know Dewey Greear. He’s not the violent and evil person. I’ve been his friend since 1965 and no one is more caring or loyal to his friends and family than Dewey. First and foremost, he is a heart transplant recipient, since 2008, and a walking miracle. He has three successful children who have college degrees and good jobs, because Dewey and his wife sacrificed everything for them.
Was there road rage or fun play involved? Only two people know the answer to that question. But why would an individual follow Dewey to his home to confront him, no matter what happened? What was he thinking?
We all need to count our blessings that no one was killed and both men are with us today. I believe anyone would protect themselves, if someone encroached on their property. I just thank God for pulling both men through this ordeal and allowing me to let everyone know who Dewey Greear really is! Dewey has mountains of friends and family, who love him and will support him.
Eleanor “E.J.” Black, Ashland
F-bombs are too common in films
In the last two weeks, I’ve seen three movies: “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel,” delightful; “The Master,” very raw (called an “art” movie so beware); and “Arbitrage,” disappointing.
Are screenwriters paid by the word? I can think of no other reason my pet peeve — the F-bomb — would be in every other sentence at least once if not more.
It was nowhere to be found in “Marigold Hotel.” Ah, those British know how to deliver a line. As for “The Master,” now in my sixth decade, I grew up in the 1950s and I don’t recall hearing that word bandied about as it was in this movie. For “Arbitrage,” I can’t for the life of me see how it enhanced the movie’s plot or acting and somehow seemed out of place coming from Richard Gere.
I’m no prude. I’ve lived these six decades and my life hasn’t been sheltered. Obviously, I’m missing something. I’m particularly upset hearing it fly out of the mouths of those in their teens, 20s, 30s and 40s — and posted on Facebook.
I always excelled at grammar. I could diagram a sentence better than anyone, conjugate verbs, never dangled a participle (that’s akin to a hanging chad), and would never use a preposition to end a sentence (with). But it seems the F-bomb is a monosyllabic multitasker requiring no brains to fire at will. It’s a verb, adverb, adjective, noun — and sometimes, I simply am at a loss to place it in an adequate category.
Oops, I guess I’ve composed one of my infamous lettersr! There’s that age thing again. How do I start a blog? I’ll leap into the 21st century — someone has to pick up the slack for the loss of Andy Rooney. I think I will make a great curmudgeon.
Carolyn Payne. Ashland native, Lexington
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