Hamilton Herald Masthead

Editorial


Front Page - Friday, July 31, 2009

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It may not be anyone’s business, but there is a government form for it



It may not be anyone’s business, but there is a government form for it
It sure is amazing the number of forms you have to sign these days if you are going to do any type of construction. There are forms for letting your neighbor know you are going to build something all the way to a form to let the government know you may upset the waters of the United States of America. And I’m not just talking about building a house.
For several years I have been needing a shed to put my tractor in and finally got up enough nerve recently to build one. Not anything fancy, but well constructed and large enough to put some equipment in the dry along with my old tractor. I’m trying to make it nice enough that the neighbors won’t complain about its looks, and it will be functional for years to come.
It use to be you just started building, but not any more, if you know what’s good for you. There are a lot of folks around who keep up with other people’s business better than their own and they make it their responsibility to keep you right with the law when it comes to the environment or anything else that seems to interest them. Of course, state law says that buildings used for agricultural purposes don’t require permits; but to be on the safe side, I checked at the courthouse just to be sure. Sure enough, I didn’t need a permit, but I did need a certificate of zoning compliance to make it all legal.
After filling out the forms and getting everything filed with the county, hopefully I am ready to begin construction.
My daddy was one who didn’t take kindly to other folks checking on his business, and today’s permits are something he would not have appreciated.
He didn’t even get too involved in government farm programs because he felt the forms asked too many questions. If you ever wanted to feel like a June bug at a duck circus, you should have tried to pin him down on filling out government forms. He felt what was his was his and it should not concern anyone else as long as he wasn’t stealing or hurting anyone.
Times sure have changed, and I’m sure my father would not have enjoyed today’s
bureaucracy.
Several years ago, I was given a story about a bachelor farmer with somewhat of the same feelings as my daddy about government forms. I don’t remember who gave me the story and neither do I have the name of the author, but it sort of describes many of the farm people I grew up with.
It seems there was a farmer who had a reputation for being real tight with his money. Some called him conservative, but others just called him stingy. In fact, he was so tight that he caused the government to send down an investigator to see if he was paying his farm employees fairly.
The investigator told the farmer he was checking him out to see if he was violating the law by paying his hired help below the minimum wage. He asked the old farmer to explain how he paid his workers and the old man explained his actions this way
“I pay Richard $80 a week to milk the cows, as well as listen to his iPod for the better part of the day. Then there is Gertrude,

who is supposed to clean my house and cook the meals, but she spends most of her time on her cell phone texting. I pay her $100 a week. Then there’s the neighbor boy who is supposed to keep the grass cut, but he spends his time sitting in his car listening to rap songs. He gets $55.”
After hearing what the old man said, the government man scratched his head and said, “I don’t see too much wrong with those figures. Is there anybody else you have not told me about?”
“Well, there’s this fellow who is not too smart. He works from before sun up to after sun down seven days a week and gets about $20 a week,” the old man said, looking sort of guilty.
The government man’s eyes jumped up and down. He broke the lead out of his pencil writing the information down on his forms. “Let me meet this man. He’s the one I have to talk to,” the investigator said.With a grin on his face, the old farmer leaned back in his straight back chair, stretched out his arms over his head and said, “You’re talking to him.”