There are clearly a number of people that have decided they don’t like Gary Singh or Jacob Naven for that matter.

It’s likely a safe bet that those that harbor intense dislike for either man personally have never met either one.

Rest assured, they have different personalities. Gary and Jacob are both businessmen. They are family men. They are men of faith. And both love Manteca

And it’s no hidden secret given the dust is still settling, they both want to serve as Manteca’s mayor for the next four years.

It will likely be days before the final result is known. That’s because of the Herculean task the Registrar of Voters office has to verify the signatures of 90 percent of the ballots that were cast given they weren’t done in person where a poll worker could check the names and signature against the voter rolls.

As such, we all have a few days to reflect on why you, and I, and everyone else lives in Manteca.

It might encourage those who do the flame thrower act in playing scorched earth politics, to dial it down and perhaps even abandon the practice.

Why should they?

It’s the same reason why they wouldn’t pour gasoline and toss a match on a field of dried weeds four feet high choking an entire empty lot next door when their house is downwind from such property.

Scorched earth politics are just like a wildfire on a red flag day. The fallout can destroy a lot of homes and create scars that will mar a community for decades.

The bottom line is enraged political speech burns holes in the social fabric that is required to create and strength a community.

And when one is gleefully telling themselves “burn, baby burn”, they don’t see they are hurting their community and by extension themselves.

Not that there is any excuse ever to riot, to do so by burning down and pillaging your own community protesting an outside injustice is basically burning down your own house,

Gary came from India as a young child and is a naturalized citizen. Get over it.

Jacob’s mother came from Mexico. If that bothers you, the same advice applies. Get over it.

Actually, get over yourself.

Everyone in Manteca — unless they have Yokuts blood in their ancestorial line — came from somewhere else and either they or their forefathers immigrated from another land.

Cut the go home where you came from crap, even if it is aimed at those who have moved here recently from the Bay Area.

That advice is something those who themselves moved to Manteca in the 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, 2000s, and 2010s from the Bay Area should take to heart.

The bottom line is we either moved here or opted to stay in Manteca as a second, third, fourth, etc., generational resident for a reason.

People from the beginning of Manteca when Joshua Cowell put down roots in 1863 have been moving here for the opportunity to work toward building a better life and, in most cases, raise a family as well.

And clearly they have stayed as Manteca — while not perfect — checks all or most of the right boxes.

None of this means we shouldn’t disagree.

Differing views in how to accomplish something more often than not leads to outcomes that work.

It may not be 100 percent what you want or I want, but its almost always something you can live and work with unless you whole-heartedly embrace the philosophy “it’s my way or the highway.”

If you really believe that and don’t want to ever work with others in Manteca to build a better community, then take your own advice.

There are a lot of real estate agents willing to help you and plenty of people who have no issues with moving to Manteca. Plus, U-Hauls are plentiful in Manteca.

And if you can’t get things your way without resorting to racism, innuendos, twisting the truth, and outright hatred, there are plenty of highways to hit — Highway 99, East Highway 120, and Interstate 5.

Jacob’s last stop before moving to Manteca in 2007 was Rocklin, which happens to be a neighboring city to Lincoln where I moved from in 1991.

Jacob’s father was a farmer in Iowa. Gary’s father was a farmer in India and then a farm worker when he immigrated to California.

My grandmother was a rancher whose grandparents came to California in 1847 from New England.

You will notice Gary, Jacon nor am I a fifth, sixth or seventh generation Manteca resident.

There are few, if any, that can make that claim.

We either came here — or our forefathers did — from somewhere else,

And they likely share a common bind of being a generation, two or three, removed from farming/ranching.

It should go without saying that there is more that ties us together than separates us whether it is today or in our past.

We belong to the same community.

It doesn’t mean we can’t disagree, even stridently.

But it does mean we should stop acting like the Hatfields and McCoys and not letting go of past slights, perceived or otherwise, burn down something that we all say we treasure — Manteca.