By JOEL PHELPS | arkadelphian.com
Has Clark County carved its niche in Arkansas as the prime location for food manufacturers? It might be wishful thinking at this point, but since Hostess Brands landed at our doorstep, we know that at least one other food industry has been sent in our direction thanks to the Arkansas Economic Development Commission. The Arkadelphia Regional Economic Development Alliance has submitted marketing materials at the request of one unnamed food manufacturing company. The details are so hush-hush right now that even the Alliance reportedly doesn’t know the name of the company — or what food said company makes — that has shown interest in opening up shop in The Natural State. Local public officials have said that a big-wig Hostess plant manager, who’s worked at numerous locations across the U.S., has doted heavily on the local workforce, saying we’re the best he’s seen yet. If we’re comparing apples to apples — or perhaps Donettes to Donettes — then Hostess’s swift decision to start doing business in Clark County could be an indicator that we’ll know more about this interested prospect sooner than later.
The Barkadelphia Dog Park certainly appears to be open.
Since last we wrote our soon-to-be-famous Bits & Pieces column, we have been compiling a list of items and assets that, some to our dismay and others to our disappointment, have broken beyond repair at our household. They include: a Prius, a brake caliper for another vehicle, a pellet smoker/grill, two flatscreen televisions, a surround sound system, an expensive hunting apparatus that aids in the viewing of wild hogs at night, and a shower valve. All of these items, you see, were purchased before inflation, when funds flowed regularly and our budget allowed for extra spending. Long gone are those days, it seems, and whether we’ll ever find ourselves again conquering our hobbies is yet unknown. First-world problems!
Here’s a sad fact for our loyal readers who understand our endeavor to inform the public: Residents have more interest in where that darn rock goes than they do about the campaign to extend a city sales tax to 10 years. We know this because we have access to the statistics that show how many views each article gets. Our latest article on where the rock will land received 2.4 times more views than a pair of articles regarding the city board’s decision to extend a 1-cent sales tax to 10 years. Regardless of which side of the fence one is on about the tax issue, it’s an issue that affects the community for better or worse. If our coverage continues to fall on deaf ears, we don’t want to hear any complaints later on; we told ya so.
“They call this war a cloud over the land, but they made the weather and then they stand in the rain and say, ‘Shit, it’s raining!’” — Ruby Thewes, Cold Mountain
We were saddened to learn that Sam May passed away on Tuesday at the age of 65. In our formative and more impish years we once found ourselves one day after school, roaming the streets of Sparkman with friends and, nothing better to do, commenced to violently rocking a street sign post back and forth, endeavoring feverishly to remove the sign from its location. As the post loosened and we teenagers were certain it was about to give way to our yanking, a police officer and a deputy drove up to inquire of our intentions. Thumbs resting where the suspenders of his overalls met the bib, Deputy Sam May towered over us as it was explained that our misdeed was illegal, an act of vandalism, then sent us along cowering to our next adventure. It would be nearly a half-decade later that Deputy May towered over Yours Truly, this time in response to a rollover accident we’d miraculously accomplished to survive on Highway 8 near Dalark. Laid across the pavement with a femur snapped in two, Deputy May, having approached from above our peripheral, appeared to us upside-down as he asked questions while paramedics cut away at our breeches and lifted us onto a gurney. We were on our way to Arkadelphia to help classmates — some of them fellow comrades at the vandalism scene — in preparation of our junior prom. It would be another 20 years, in 2023, before our path again crossed Deputy May’s — this time, oddly enough, on the day our daughter was to attend her own junior prom. He didn’t recognize us now: bearded, grown and browsing the aisles of a hardware store — to purchase a T-post puller, of all things.
Joel Phelps is publisher and editor of arkadelphian.com. Opinions expressed in Bits & Pieces are his own. Email him at editor@arkadelphian.com.