The Ming Report by Keith Hays

June, 2007

June 27, 2007 - Foreigners are taking American’s jobs. No, the foreigners are not from Mexico or Nicaragua or Guatemala and they aren’t taking American’s jobs in Dallas or Des Moines or Charleston or Chicago. Spanish speaking immigrants, legal or illegal, aren’t “taking American jobs” as the populist poseurs would have you believe. Their impact on the American employment economy is negligible. They and the political opportunists that have latched onto the immigration issue have hidden the real issue behind a smokescreen behind which the real dislocation of American workers is taking place.

The real threat to the future of the American worker won’t be ameliorated by building an impregnable wall along our southern border. We need a wall alright, but it isn’t a wall to keep workers out. We need a wall to keep jobs in. We need a wall alright, but it isn’t built of steel and stone. We need a wall of policies designed to discourage outsourcing of jobs abroad and encourage repatriation of those jobs already gone. The economic enemy is not hordes of Latinos lined up to migrate to improve their economic lot by working. The economic enemy is a handful of overpaid executives sitting in boardrooms seeking to improve their bonuses by exploiting economic hardship overseas. Before the politicians discovered “illegal immigrants” we recognized that the real threat was the export of jobs we called “outsourcing”.......click here for entire article

A DAUGHTER AND HER DADS

The flowers once gay have wilted and died,
Green sod turned yellowed and browned,
The echoes of volleys have faded away,
On the air with Taps mournful sound.

His mother wants to think he died a hero,
His father wants to think he stood to fight,
Like John Wayne in the Sands of Iwo Jima,
Not sitting in a bar one Saigon night.

He never saw his daughter born that Tuesday,
He never saw her laughing on his knee,
He never saw her try to catch a baseball,
He never heard her bubbling with glee.

Another man would scoop her up and hold her,
And kiss away her tears and skinned up knee,
Another man would push her to the heavens,
Her ship a board with ropes hung from a tree.

She and her dad would go to see her father,
Each May they’d take the flowers to his stone,
She’d stand there with her dad and with her mother,
All four together, and each one alone.

Her Dad would see her going off to college,
To learn to fly she took ROTC,
He’d posed with her the bars pinned to her collar,
Proud and scared as when she climbed that tree.

They laid her in the meadow next her father,
His stone has grayed, hers a new and shining white,
Her ship went down, her mission unaccomplished,
The flames lit up a dreary Baghdad night.

Keith Hays, June 25, 2007
© Copyright Keith Hays
All Rights Reserved

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© Copyright Keith Hays
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