By LEE SCOTT
This is a phrase I hear in my head all the time. “Oh no, it’s Mrs. Scott again.”
This would be from local, state, and federal politicians. They say this when they get another one of my e-mails.
I am one of those people who writes to my elected officials. When something comes up that I find of particular interest, I want to provide my input.
They know it is me because when you send them an e-mail, you must register first. They have my name, address, phone number, and my e-mail address.
I envision my e-mails, along with the emails of my other concerned citizens, falling into a designated file. It either reads “concerned citizens” or “they’re back again.”
A few months back my husband heard me in my office. “You are typing hard and fast. Who are you writing to now?”
“Everyone I can think of to write.”
It had to do with closing the boat ramps. “What are you thinking?”
I explained my concern because I live in an area where people rely on putting their boats in the water and feeding their families. I wrote to everyone: Shannon, York, Billy, Tim, Jim, Henry, and Lindsey. I feel like I know them.
Two weeks later, Henry reopened the boat ramps. I think other people wrote too.
One of the recent issues is requiring Convenience Center stickers for county residents. Many communities around the country have this program and it helps lessen the burden on our landfills because then the out of state visitors are not filling up our bins with their trash.
I understand the concept of using the stickers, but there is another side to it. I have lived in a county up north where we had our own stickers, and there were back roads lined with old refrigerators, mattresses, and other items.
If someone did not have a sticker, they would just drive somewhere and dump it. Every few months, the county trucks would have to drive around and pick up the trash. What difference then did the stickers make? The junk was still going into the same landfill.
With so many renters coming to our area with out of state license plates, and no stickers, I worry that they will find back roads to dump their trash. With our rivers, creeks, and tides, I worry about that trash making it to the water. You guessed it, I started to write.
But then there are times when I say thank you. Thank you for doing your job. Thank you for making tough decisions.
It is times like that when I do not get the usual “I’m so glad to serve you” auto-response. Instead it says, “Thank you, Mrs. Scott.”
Evidently, they do read my e-mails.
Lee Scott, award winning humor writer takes her “Walter Mitty” like persona and spins tales around everyday life. She enjoys boating, reading, and meeting people. Scott lives in Beaufort with her husband, JD, along with their dog Brandy. You can reach her at Lasshood@aol.com.
