Funt column: I’m seeking plenty of sanctuary
I wrote a column recently about lawmakers in East Tennessee voting to make Blount County a “Second Amendment Sanctuary.” They established a haven for gun owners seeking asylum from bothersome restrictions on firearms.
These folks are on to something. Why limit sanctuary status to undocumented immigrants when there are so many more important things to worry about? After all, we have plenty of wildlife sanctuaries, like the Ironwood Pig Sanctuary in Marana, Arizona, and the Happy Hen Sanctuary in San Luis Obispo, California.
I’d like my town to take immediate action to become a Phone Sanctuary, free from robocallers intoning, “This is an important announcement about your credit card payments,” and invariably ringing while you’re in the bathroom.
I wish my neighbors would vote to make our block a No-Blow Sanctuary. Folks on the east side of our street spend an inordinate amount of time leaf-blowing their debris over to the west side, only to have it blown back at them a short time later. The lone benefit to all this noise is that you occasionally miss a robocall.
I’d love to get my news from a channel that is a Pundit-Free Sanctuary. It could thrive on the dial right next to a Poll-Free Sanctuary, where the chance of hearing about the latest presidential poll is 0 percent.
Highways need Sanctuary Lanes. Motorists wishing to drive there would have to stop texting, refrain from using the rearview mirror for applying makeup, ditch the takeout order from Burger King, and never drive more than 15 mph above — or below — the posted limit.
At games I’d prefer to sit in the Sports Sanctuary. No cellphones, no vaping, no two-foot high hats, no kids too young to realize they’re at a sporting event, no standing when the ball is in play, no passing change to people more than 20 seats away, and no more than six beers per person.
I’d support any candidate offering Political Sanctuary. No multi-point plans, no anecdotes about good old days, no random waving at nonexistent acquaintances in crowds, no more than five yard signs per block, no more than 10 fundraising emails per week, and no more than a dozen clever tweets per day.
What a relief it would be to eat in a Sanctuary Restaurant. No artificial ingredients, no dishes with more than 3,000 calories or 1,500 mg of sodium, no single glass of wine priced above $15, no strangers seated within 18 inches of your chin, and no gratuities automatically added to the bill.
While compiling this list I learned — this is true — that 11 states have passed laws banning sanctuary cities, thus becoming sanctuaries from sanctuaries. It reminds us that America will never provide refuge from bad ideas.
Peter Funt is a writer and speaker. His book, “Cautiously Optimistic,” is available at Amazon.com and CandidCamera.com. © 2019 Peter Funt. Columns distributed exclusively by Cagle Cartoons, Inc., newspaper syndicate.
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This will be my 500th column — my final column in the Glenwood Springs Post Independent.