So, the mayor has a dream of bringing baseball to San Jose. It will be interesting to see how he plans to pay for his dream.

I also have a dream. Lower taxes, a quality of life in Willow Glen without airplane noise, no potholes in our streets, and no huge monster homes built on beautiful large lots. Most of us don't always get our dreams.

J. Bernal

Willow Glen

There are no other
countries to move to

This letter is in response to that poor lady who was unable to answer her children's query about that poor Willow Glen man who felt compelled to fly his flag upside-down in protest of poor George Bush's strange foreign adventure against all those poor Iraqis who are busy killing our poor soldiers in a very poor war against terror (Opinion, Feb. 2). The upshot seems to be that as an unpatriotic American, we need to leave the country forthwith and find a place where our peculiar brand of liberality is acceptable.

There is a problem, and I checked. Nobody wants us, not [even] Belgium, where I was brought up--something about the United States acting very much like their last invader in 1939. In France, where I have friends and business associates, people seem to think that freedom fries have tainted the waters. The Germans still don't like to be called names by ignorant defense secretaries and would pass on accepting Americans. Canada has a proud tradition of accepting political refugees from the land of the free and the home of the brave, but it is still reeling from all the unpardoned draft dodgers.

The Middle East for some reason has a surfeit of temporary U.S. residents and would prefer to have us go home, not prepare to invade another one of their sovereign nations, even if they are pursuing a peaceful nuclear program. I must add that an Iranian friend did point out that, thanks to Bush's foreign policy, a large number of their own bombers are currently employed, running for office or shooting our soldiers in Iraq. Imagine that: we have outsourced Iranian terrorists!

So you see, Bush did not do the "love it or leave it" crew a lot of favors--au contraire, as they say in Quebec, Madagascar, France, Haiti and several other places: He has dampened our traditional refugee areas considerably. There is always Cuba, and is it not ironic that our enemy combatants, in order to gain freedom, may well have to escape to Cuba? I ask you, Ms. Jones, where is a liberal to go unless he stays at home? What is a liberal to do unless he points out that his freedoms are sacred within our borders (unless you are a Muslim), and that the option to invade areas where we disagree with local policies does not stretch to Coe Avenue in peaceful Willow Glen?

Tell you what, I would be glad to love it or leave it, as long as Ms. Jones and her ilk will pay the freight. Unfortunately, the only people who are getting cheap transportation are our soldiers dying by the thousands and the bodies coming home.

Think about it before you condemn those who might not agree; your children could face a draft one day, and you will be as grateful for today's protesters as my children are for our efforts against Vietnam. An upside-down flag looks benign on a house compared to draping somebody's coffin. It is a truly small gesture against the monstrous tyranny of an administration gone amuck.

Peter Brown

Willow Glen

The governor needs to
leave Prop. 98 alone

Dialing Sacramento on Feb. 17 for PTA Action Day was like dialing in for a debate. The staffers who answered the phones were prepared with scripts to battle every point you may try to make, yet they missed the whole point.

The calls from concerned taxpayers, parents, educators, were very clear: Stop suspending Proposition 98. Secure public education by securing funding.

I am told the governor supports education and is allocating 7 percent of the state's budget as though this is more than enough and I should dole out high praise.

Hear that, schools: Our days of closure, loss of programs and staff are over. The governor gave 7 percent. Now our troubles are ended.

Please! Obviously there is no mention of the new responsibilities that must be paid at the local level due to his cuts, which lower that 7 percent figure significantly.

I am told that the governor is my elected official and that he has every right to make tough decisions to meet the deficit crisis, like suspending Prop. 98. So now the governor is almighty and omnipotent. He doesn't need to speak to taxpayers and ask anyone's permission to use taxpayer money for other than its intended purpose. He is the "Governator", and after all, he is supported by his coalition of educators. But who exactly are his supporters and are they from public education in California?

I am told that I need to understand how balancing a budget works, that I need to know the facts. I say what the governor's office needs to know is why I am calling. I know the facts and I know how balancing budgets can be done. I took the time out to call and I paid for the call. I had a right to have someone in Sacramento listen to what I had to say regarding this issue--we need to fund our priorities first and those must be with our children's education. Obviously that is what the taxpayers voted in 1988, when Prop. 98 was approved.

Dialing in to express your viewpoint should not be an invitation for debate. I don't need the governor's party line shoved down my throat when I exercise my right as taxpayer to question issues of public importance. What does this approach at welcoming phone calls so graciously spell out for the future of public education in California?

Amy Huddlestun

Willow Glen

Another encounter
with 'The Enforcer'

I have to say I laughed out loud and felt relieved when I read Michael Borbely's Opinion piece on the Garden Theatre "Enforcer" in the Feb. 16 issue of the Willow Glen Resident.

Last week, on a very rainy Tuesday, I decided to venture into the Garden Theatre parking lot to pick up lunch at Aqui, return videos to Blockbuster, buy coffee at Peet's, and perhaps stop at Footwear, Etc. in the Garden Theatre to shop for some comfortable shoes, if I had time.

As I pulled into the lot via the alley between the Garden Theatre and Blockbuster, I saw a man standing in the rain waving madly at passersby with one hand and for some reason, holding Blockbuster videos in the other. I thought this was a bit odd, but I decided he must have been waving at his own family or friends.

I passed by and circled the parking lot about five times before settling in the back part of the Garden Theatre parking lot, well aware of the plethora of "You Can't Park Here" signs, but figured the Garden Theatre was one of my destinations (maybe). As I opened my car door and stepped into the pouring rain, I was harshly greeted with someone barking from behind my back, "Where are you going this afternoon?! What are your intentions?!"

I turned around to see the strange man from the parking lot entrance. I was really confused at this point and also feeling a little bit attacked.

"I hope you aren't planning on going to Blockbuster," he barked, pointing at the videos still sitting on my front seat.

I stuttered, "Uh, uh, uh ... no, no, I was just going to the shoe store place in here ...", pointing at the Garden Theatre (remembering that I may have parked somewhere I shouldn't have and wondering if this guy was really some kind of undercover parking cop).

He looked at me accusingly, and at this point, there was no way I was going to grab those videos off of my front seat and let this crazy man believe I would dare step inside Blockbuster from this parking lot. I started my walk toward the Garden Theatre, looking back at "The Enforcer" as he watched me every step of the way. Once inside, I made my way to Footwear Etc., but I was so flustered and shaken up that all I could do was stand there and think, "I got away from that guy. I hope he saw me come in here."

Eventually I was brave enough to make my way toward the doors to peek outside to see if he was still there. (I was so distracted that the idea of shoe shopping had completely left my itinerary by now.) I didn't see The Enforcer anywhere, so I darted back to my car, hoping he wasn't lurking nearby counting how many minutes I was inside the Garden Theatre, deciding that it hadn't been long enough to qualify as a real visit to the Garden Theatre.

Once in my car, I quickly departed the parking lot, staring at the unreturned videos and watching as my lunch at Aqui faded in the rearview mirror. Fortunately for me, there happened to be a rare spot on Lincoln right in front of Aqui, where I parked, ran my errands, but skipped the scary Garden Theatre that time around.

Next time around, I can honestly say that I will not be shopping or eating at the establishments inside the Garden Theatre if I have to be stalked, quizzed and watched by The Enforcer when I park my car in its parking lot.

When I saw Michael Borbely's column in last week's Resident, I was relieved to find out that I was not the only victim of this maniacal parking lot warden.

A. Lynden

Willow Glen