It's About Tradition

On Saturday we went to Tontitown for the 111th Annual Grape Festival. Tontitown is a little community about 12 miles northwest of Fayetteville that was settled by Italian immigrants in the early 1900s. When I first moved to Fayetteville, everyone I met asked me if I was from Tontitown. I learned quickly that Italian last names are rare here, unless you’re a descendant of a Tontitown settler. Tontitown is very proud of its heritage and strives to keep its traditions alive, through annual events such as the fall Polenta Smear and the summer Grape Festival .

As with all local fairs, the Grape Festival features a midway of sketchy rides, a visual feast of mullets, a section of arts and crafts tents selling Confederate flag bikinis, and a string of overpriced junk food vendors. Paolo nearly broke my heart when he opted for a corn dog instead of the wildly popular spaghetti dinner, but that’s his father in him. Throughout his boyhood, Sam didn’t miss a Missouri state fair, and the smell of carnie sweat and corn dogs (to be eaten on the fourth day of the fair, never earlier, allowing the grease enough time to reach the right level of putrid) always puts a certain twinkle in his eye.

We ate over in the park so the boys could play on the multitude of playground equipment. There are half a dozen different play areas in the park, with lots of old-school gear not found in parks anymore. As we spun on the merry-go-round, I shared my story of how I got my worst scar from a merry-go-round on my elementary school playground. I was pushing it around and didn’t clear the edge when I jumped on, which left me with a two-inch long scar on my left shin. The next play area over, I described how I was nearly crippled as a child when a mean see-saw partner slid off the back of the seat, leaving me to plummet to the ground, crushing my feet under the seat. I can still feel the shock of that pain traveling like lightning from my ankles to my waist. It occurred to me there is a reason those particular playground artifacts are not in use anymore.

After last year’s Grape Festival, I decided to inquire about volunteering at the local museum because I admired the community and really missed having a museum, no matter how small, in my life. I now serve on the Board of Directors and have befriended all those wonderful people whose last names end in vowels. They believe I have a lot to offer their small museum, and I am hopeful that I can prove them right.

As we drove home, faces and fingers sticky with grape ice cream, I reflected upon past Grape Festivals we’ve attended, with Paolo growing from a toddler to a schoolboy, and Gianluca, first just a bump (of freakish proportions, due to arrive a week later), and now nearly ready for the rides. I pictured our family coming back to Tontitown year after year to enjoy their tradition, and to make it our own. I can honestly say that being a small part of this kind and welcoming Italian-American community makes it even easier to embrace a long, long stay in Northwest Arkansas.

Northwest Arkansas Crime Report, April 1, 2009

The newspaper website has done something screwy with my local Police Calls. I still haven’t figured out where they are now, but I found some real treasures in the Benton County Daily Record, which is the county north of mine. Read on and you’ll agree that these will do in a pinch.

Bella Vista incidents

· At 5:58 a.m. Friday, the Benton County Sheriff's Office requested help finding two donkeys just outside the city limits near the Boys and Girls Club on Arkansas Highway 279.

· At 8:24 p.m. Friday, a woman on Enfield Drive was reported missing, and her name was entered into the National Crime Information Center's missing-persons database. She was found a few hours later in Rogers.

· At 2:50 a.m. Saturday, a woman reported that her brother was causing problems. He had been drinking and smoking pot. He left before the police arrived.

· At 5:15 a.m. Saturday, a suspicious man wearing heavy clothing was reported going in and out of the restroom on Blowing Springs Road.

· At 11:51 a.m. Sunday, a caller on Kingsland and Lambeth Drive said it looked as though two men in a pickup truck were trying to steal a trailer carrying fiber-optic cable. Everything was OK; the men worked there.

· At 12:05 p.m. Sunday, a woman called to report that her sister wouldn't leave the house.

· At 12:34 p.m. Sunday, a woman reported that her husband was at her house and wouldn't leave.

· At 12:01 a.m. Monday, someone at Mercy Medical Center in Rogers called to report giving a patient morphine and telling him not to drive, but the patient left anyway and was heading north on U.S. Highway 71.

· At 1:35 p.m. Monday, a caller reported receiving a note from a stranger who claimed the caller damaged a vehicle in a parking lot at 1801 Forest Hills Blvd.

· At 2:40 p.m. Monday, a caller on Littrell Drive reported finding a syringe and a substance in a used car he had just purchased.

· At 6:57 p.m. Monday, a verbal argument was reported between a man on Evesham Lane and his neighbor. The man said the neighbor's son pulled a BB gun and pointed it at him. An officer reported the son's weapon was a Nerf-type gun.

Ictalurus punctatus

Sam did the grocery shopping on Monday, and I asked him to pick up some pollock at the seafood market so I could make fish sticks for the boys. On the drive home he was suspiciously reticent about his purchase until he finally admitted the store had been out of pollock. "That's okay, so you got haddock?" "Mmm, no." "Cod then?" "Well, no." He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye like he fully expected what he revealed next to have me throwing my wedding ring at his head. "I got catfish." "You. Got. WHAT?" Sam went on to explain the unauthorized substitution, toggling between apologetic and defiant. He knows I won’t eat that nasty, bottom-feeding river dog. I grew up in South Florida, and people who live there DO NOT EAT CATFISH. It’s like offering Spam to Nebraskans. Yes, it’s a regional prejudice, but I have actually tasted catfish, and it tastes like dirt.

I have another reason not to like catfish. After the birth of our first son, with whom I labored eighteen hours, Sam went out to a fantastic Cajun restaurant for a celebratory dinner with his parents and my mother. Me, I was stuck in the hospital, with a tar-pooping newborn, eating cafeteria food. After their two-hour feast, Sam brought me a doggie bag from the restaurant, consisting of cold fries and chicken fingers. After downing a couple of bites of really strange-tasting chicken, Sam confessed it wasn’t chicken at all, it was CATFISH! HA-HA-HA! See how good it is? No, in fact, I did not. Some women get expensive jewelry after giving birth. I got leftover deep-fried catfish in a greasy bag.

And last night, thanks to my husband, I got to touch it and feed it to my children. I actually feel guilty that I fed that swimming sewage to my sons. Proving how much he takes after Sam, Gianluca inhaled his fish sticks without noticing a thing. Paolo, who takes after me, choked down two pieces and asked if he could be done with his fish sticks because, for some reason, they just weren’t very good tonight. My precious boy.

Eat me. Mmmm.

Northwest Arkansas Crime Report, February 2009

Feb 13, 5:33 p.m. A woman on West Dot Tipton Road reported her child's stepgrandmother screaming at her.
Oh yeah, well my ex-uncle’s second cousin says you started it.

Feb 11, 3:31 p.m. A man at 601 W. Easy St. reported evicted tenants took a wall, cabinets and a window, destroying the apartment.
I’ve heard of unscrewing all the lightbulbs, but the WALL? Won’t your next apartment already have one?

Feb 10, 10:54 a.m. A woman on West Bedford Loop reported finding a crack pipe in a couch and items missing after a friend of her mother's boyfriend stayed over.
You shouldn’t let your mom set you up.

You’re Calling From Where?

Feb 6 3:51 p.m. A caller at Newlywed Foods, 1111 Angel Drive, reported fraud.
Was it Renee Zellweger? Okay, that’s a dated joke. It’s been a slow month.

Feb 9 8:53 a.m. A caller with Hott Wheels Used Autos, 2294 W. Henri De Tonti Blvd., Springdale, reported a pickup stolen.
Now that truck is really hot. Har har har.

Feb. 11 5:13 a.m. A woman at Days Inn and Suites, 3408 Moberly Lane, reported an employee came into her room without permission.
Tomorrow, either hang the Do Not Disturb sign outside your door or learn to say “No gracias, ocupada, or no me gusta clean towels” or something.

12:10 p.m. A caller at Sleepy Hollow Store, 12761 S. Arkansas 59, reported a theft.
Come on, Headless Horseman, stop calling. We will let you know if we find your head.

11:30 p.m. A woman with Everett Maxey Auto, 2517 S.E. Best Lane, reported a man hanging out looking at vehicles.
Darlin’ I know it’s your first day, but that there’s a potential customer.

Feb 13 7:46 p.m. A woman at Great Day Skate Place, 1615 Moberly Lane, reported a man and woman arguing.
Also known as Pretty Good Day Except for That Shouting Couple Skate Place.

Thursday OverThink #5, courtesy of KUAF 91.3 FM

**UPDATED**
Please read the comment left by KUAF news director explaining the station's absence due to power failure.

When the ice storm hit on January 27, Fayetteville was hungry for news. The local newspapers, the TV stations, the radio stations: all had lost power, like the rest of us. The only thing we knew for days was silence and cracking branches. Then, the whole town started coming back to life, including our news sources, with one notable exception.

KUAF 91.3 FM, our local National Public Radio affiliate, remained silent. KUAF is housed on the University of Arkansas campus, which never lost power. Did you catch that? The university campus is one of the precious few areas whose power lines are underground; hence, they never lost power. We could see the lights of campus, mocking us, every night from our cold, dark house. I fail to understand exactly what the hell KUAF was doing when its community needed it most.

KUAF finally came back on the air Monday, three days ago. The first thing I heard when I tuned is was a request for money. Really. Because we rely on them. Really?

I checked the website today for an explanation or an apology...or to learn that the station is back on the air, but running at reduced power.

KUAF, you might want to rethink your tagline: “KUAF is your indispensable connection to the world.”

While on the site, I also found a five-minute piece on Mount Sequoyah recorded the day after the ice storm.

The Winter Ice Storm of 2009
FAYETTEVILLE, AR(2009-01-31) The morning after one of the most devastating weather events in recent memory, we take a walk....
Visit this link for the full story:
http://publicbroadcasting.net/kuaf/news/content/1464162.html

The Thaw

Photo by Brooke McNeely,
Northwest Arkansas Times
Believe me, I know how fortunate we are. This is just a follow-up report for anyone who wonders "What do people do when the power goes out and it's so cold?" Last week's ice storm was a disaster in this part of the state, and clean-up will take months. There are people in Fayetteville (and half a million people in Kentucky) who are still without power. So, obviously, this is not some sort of suffering contest. It is simply my experience.

To recap, we lost power for good on Tuesday just before lunch. We stayed in the house for three nights despite below-freezing temperatures. The first night was an adventure, the second an ordeal, and the third night did me in. It wore me down spending all day thinking about how we would stay warm, how we would eat, how we would amuse the boys. I’d be up all night tucking little hands back under blankets, pulling hats down over ears, then get up in the morning to a freezing house for another day of the same struggle. We were among tens of thousands without power. The hotels were full; there was nowhere to go.

By mid-morning Thursday, my office was open. I looked and felt like a refugee. I was wearing so many layers of clothing I was stifling, but I kept them all on. I knew I only had so many hours before I’d be cold again. Sam and the boys spent most of the day driving around in search of fuel for the car and camp stove and someplace warm to pass the time. No mall, no Target, no Walmart, but thankfully, Chick-fil-A with an indoor playground.

Friday I worked until 1:00 and then shuttled the boys between the arts center and the library until going home to prep dinner before the sun set. As it got darker and colder, dread overwhelmed me. Just thinking about the night to come made me want to cry. I confessed to Sam that something very like hysteria was creeping up on me, and I was open to suggestions. He told me to start calling hotels again, and I found one nearby with a single room left. For the next two nights I found a hundred reasons to touch the boys just to feel their warm skin.

Thanks to the thousand-plus workers from as far away as Minnesota, and the electrician who drove to Oklahoma and back for a part to re-connect the power line to our building, we had power by Sunday morning. We spent all Sunday cleaning the house top to bottom, systematically and thoroughly, as if exorcising an evil spirit.

Eager to resume our normal routine, we ate dinner, had baths and got the boys to bed on time. I flicked off the light in Paolo’s room to read his bedtime books by flashlight, like we always do. Suddenly, in the dark room, lit only by the weak beam of a flashlight, I panicked. It felt like a flashback. Have I been in a war? I had to tell myself, several times over, that I wasn’t cold and I could turn on that light whenever I wanted to.

Thursday OverThink #2, courtesy of The City of Fayetteville

Each year about this time, Fayetteville's downtown square is festooned with lights: white lights, colored lights, winding up tree trunks, blanketing bushes, blinking, glowing, pretty, pretty lights. The energy-wasting display is completely over the top, and every year the City Council threatens to discontinue the popular Lights of the Ozarks. And every year, Fayetteville citizens scream, "Oh no you don't!"

How else would we know that Christmas is coming if we didn't attend the parade with our children and sigh in awe when the switch is flipped and all 450,000 lights turn on? What would replace the smells of hot cocoa, kettle corn and cotton candy that fortunately mask the smells of the pony and camel rides? Despite frigid temperatures, almost every night there are bands and choirs providing live holiday music. There is a dedicated lane for horse-drawn carriages, and I've heard that this year there will be reindeer. I totally just got goosebumps.

City workers spent over 2,000 hours stringing up the lights that will be lit every night through December 31. The theme of this year’s parade is “Rocking in a Green Wonderland.” Ah, the irony. City of Fayetteville, you have overthought municipal holiday decor. And I love you for it.

Rejoicing from a Red State

Sometimes I forget that I live in Arkansas, but election years always remind me. I wish I could say, like the proud voters in Florida and Ohio, that my state flipped for Obama, that my red state turned blue. It's especially hard on me having moved here from California, where I could always count on my neighbors to do the right thing (well, almost always).

The voters of the state of Arkansas overwhelmingly voted McCain. They also voted to ban unmarried couples from being foster or adoptive parents, a thinly veiled assault on gay couples that ultimately hurts only children in need. Nice one, Arkansas.

I am elated at the election of Barack Obama for so many reasons, a big one being that we all wondered if our country was still, let's face it, too racist to elect a black president. I believe that people who voted for Obama did so because of what was inside the man, not the color of the skin that encased it. I also believe there were people who voted against Obama solely for the reverse, but finally and definitively, those people were drowned out by the wave of goodwill and hope inspired by our president-elect.

I was deeply moved by the emotion of The View's Sherri Shepherd as she related telling her son that he now had "no limitations" on what he could do or who he could become. All my life I have argued, out of hope rather than certitude, that racism in America was shrinking steadily, and that soon it would be powerless to squash the dreams or halt the achievements of great Americans of every color. Seeing the proof of it standing at the podium in Grant Park on Tuesday night was soul-satisfying.

It has been a very long time since I have felt proud of this country, but that changed Tuesday night when we as a nation told our African-American children to dream as big as they want. But, please, let us remember that the fight for equality is not over, not until we can give that happy pronouncement to our daughters.

Northwest Arkansas Crime Report, October 30 - November 2, 2008

Nov. 1, 7:57 a.m. A woman on West Van Gogh Place reported a fight.
It’s all fun and games until someone loses an ear.

Nov. 2, 12:11 a.m. A man on White Street, West Fork, reported his ex-wife broke into his home and tried to beat up his mother.
The divorce is becoming acrimonious when your spouse hates you so much she attacks the person responsible for giving you life.

Shocking Examples of Pumpkin Crime

Oct. 31, 6:36 a.m. A woman at 1306 Rebecca Lane reported someone threw a pumpkin through the back windshield of a car.
Nov. 1, 7:44 a.m. A man at 1736 W. Osage Bend reported someone knocked over his mailbox with a pumpkin.
Nov. 1, 7:56 a.m. A man at 60 S. 20th St. reported someone “molested his mailbox with a pumpkin.”

Refusing All Personal Responsibility

Oct. 30, 6:34 a.m. A woman at 3103 Levi Lane reported someone broke into her residence and ate candy while she was sleeping.
She might want to reconsider the prescription sleeping pills and whiskey chaser.

Oct. 31, 8: 39 a.m. A caller on South Razorback Road reported a car damaged a tree.
I bet if I asked the driver, he would say it was the other way around.

Nov. 1, 12: 45 p.m. A man at 1306 S.E. C St. reported money in an online gaming account stolen.
Just say no to online poker.

This is how we impress clients in the South.

An executive at my office urgently rushed over to his secretary's desk and told her to purchase two Arkansas Razorback hog heads by tomorrow.

In case you are ignorant of this appalling redneck headgear, behold:
The exec stormed back to his office, instructing over his shoulder, "Charge it to client development." I suppose this isn't any worse than the bright orange hunting vests and mesh-back ballcaps (with our coporate logo) and boxes of ammunition (sadly, without logo) that are distributed at the annual "client development" hunt.

Still, it is moments like these that make me want to leave the state of Arkansas and never look back.

An Amendment Concerning Voting

On November 4, in addition to casting inexplicable ballots for McCain, qualified residents in the great state of Arkansas will vote on the following consitutional amendment:

PROPOSED CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT NO. 1
(REFERRED TO THE PEOPLE BY THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY)
(Popular Name)
AN AMENDMENT CONCERNING VOTING, QUALIFICATIONS OF VOTERS AND ELECTION OFFICERS, AND THE TIME OF HOLDING GENERAL ELECTIONS
(Ballot Title)

AMENDING VARIOUS PROVISIONS OF THE ARKANSAS CONSTITUTION CONCERNING VOTING AND ELECTIONS; PROVIDING THAT ALL PERSONS MAY VOTE WHO ARE CITIZENS OF THE UNITED STATES, RESIDENTS OF THE STATE OF ARKANSAS, AT LEAST EIGHTEEN (18) YEARS OF AGE, AND LAWFULLY REGISTERED TO VOTE; TO REPEAL THE REQUIREMENT THAT THE RIGHT TO VOTE SHALL NOT BE MADE TO DEPEND ON ANY PREVIOUS REGISTRATION OF AN ELECTOR'S NAME; REPEALING ARTICLE 3, SECTION 5 OF THE ARKANSAS CONSTITUTION PROVIDING THAT NO IDIOT OR INSANE PERSON SHALL BE ENTITLED TO THE PRIVILEGES OF AN ELECTOR; AND PERMITTING THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY TO ESTABLISH THE DATE AND TIME OF ELECTIONS AND THE QUALIFICATIONS OF ELECTION OFFICERS.

Am I reading this correctly, Arkansas General Assembly? You want to ALLOW idiots and insane people to be able to vote? I don’t know if you’ve noticed who is in the White House, but it appears to me they already can.

Northwest Arkansas Crime Report, September 2008

Sept. 14, 1:32 p.m. A man at 13501 Arrow Lane, Garfield, reported his grandchildren stole his vehicle.

Can you blame them? Wheeeeee!

Sept. 10, 8:28 a.m. A woman on Southwest Calm Ridge Road reported her husband trying to force her into a vehicle and take her to Tulsa and he wouldn’t say why.

Maybe he’s taking you to see the Center of the Universe or the Golden Driller. Get in the car!

8:10 p.m. A man on Kings Drive, Bethel Heights, reported his ex-wife called and told him to call the police because she was fighting with her boyfriend.

This is exactly why they got divorced. She can’t do anything her damn self.

Sept. 9, 10:11 a.m. A woman at Gotcha Repossessions, 1401 Ingram St., reported items stolen from the lot.

Gotcha back.

12:15 p.m. A woman on South Willow Avenue reported her ex-boyfriend pushed her out of a vehicle, pulling her fingernail off, and put her 2-year-old son down in the middle of the street.

Yeah, yeah, he planted a toddler in the road, but let’s focus on what’s important here. Lee Press-On nails don’t just grow on trees.

For more Southern hijinks, check out Melissa's crime reports here and here.

Northwest Arkansas Crime Report, July 22-24, 2008

July 22, 9:12 a.m. A woman at 10910 S.E. Campbell Road, Fayetteville, reported a male acquaintance keeps calling, telling her how high he is and that he won’t give her father’s chain saw back.
Could this be why?:

7: 31 p.m. A woman at Ultimate Tan, 1810 W. Sunset Ave., reported a man exposed himself to her.

That was a misunderstanding. He just really, really hates tan lines.

July 23, 7:26 a.m. A woman at 16185 Osborn Road, Winslow, reported a man took a bus from her mother’s yard that was full of her mother’s belongings and it’s sitting in front of the TNT Diner.
5: 23 p.m. A caller at 11122 Cannon Road, Lincoln, reported parts stolen off of several vehicles parked on their property.

You think the people whose houses resemble ships floating on a sea of crap don’t know what’s in their yards and might even be pleased if some of it should disappear. You are incorrect. Also, TNT Diner is the best greasy spoon name ever, edging out Terry’s House of Heartburn. It’s always nice when a dining establishment lets you know what will happen to your insides should you eat there.

July 24, 9:11 p.m. A woman on Southeast A Street reported her ex-boyfriend broke into her residence, ate her food and had been in her bed.
10:01 p.m. A man at 2552 E. Neely Road reported he left his door unlocked and someone trashed the residence and ate his food.

Their porridge was juuuuust right.

"When you make it to Google Earth, you've arrived."

I added the pictures, but the story is pure, unadulterated Arkansas.

SPRINGDALE : Rooftop plane makes last flight off McDonald’s
BY ROBERT J. SMITH
Posted on Friday, May 30, 2008

SPRINGDALE — An engineless airplane on the roof of a Mc-Donald’s propelled its last customers through the restaurant’s front door on Thursday.

Owners Bill Mathews and Walter Mathews are removing the Piper Seneca that’s rested on metal posts above the roof since the store opened in 1994.

Two factors led to the decision: The fast-food chain encouraged the brothers to remodel their local restaurants, and liability became a concern after a rudder snapped off in high wind three months ago.

“The restaurant is going to be a ‘Forever Young’ design,” said Bill Mathews, referring to the chain’s current branding campaign. “That plane was showing its wear.”

Customers and store employees were disappointed to see the plane with Ronald Mc-Donald riding proudly on the fuselage lifted by a crane and put down on the parking lot. The restaurant was closed temporarily while the crane moved the plane.

“When they do something like this, people ought to have a right to vote on it,” said Audrey Harris, a Springdale resident who eats breakfast at the McDonald’s every Thursday. “That’s how we tell people where to turn to get to our house. It’s a landmark. Now, what am I supposed to do?”

Indeed, the restaurant most commonly referred to as the “airplane McDonald’s” just down the road from the Springdale Municipal Airport has served as a regional compass for years, guiding people to the used car lots, pizza restaurants and other businesses on Robinson Avenue east of Arkansas 265.

The brothers knew their store, with its unique decoration, had become a landmark for locals and businesses.

“It’s served its purpose,” Walter Mathews said. “It’s like one of your kids growing up and going off to college.”

Still, Bertha Murillo fretted about getting customers to her job at a neighboring used car lot.

“We’re going to have a harder time giving directions to people who call,” said Murillo, who works at the Pine Meadow Auto Plex. “We don’t even have to say we’re on East Robinson Avenue because everyone knows where that McDonald’s is.”

A giant chicken and turkey just up the street in front of Four State Poultry Supply Inc. might be just the ticket for those seeking a different compass. Each standing 14 feet tall, the fiberglass birds are nearly a mile west of the airplane McDonald’s and have been in place for 30 years.

“If you go to Google Earth on the Internet, it’s a big chicken and big turkey that’s on there in Springdale,” said Ron Day, one of the supply company’s owners. “It doesn’t say ‘airplane.’ When you make it to Google Earth, you’ve arrived.”

Popeye, a statue near the Allen Canning Co. plant on Thompson Avenue, declined comment.

The McDonald’s corporate honchos knew of the rooftop airplane. A vice president from Dallas often commented about it, telling Bill Mathews “you Mathews boys are nuts” when the topic came up.

Walter Mathews, a former aircraft mechanic, pieced the halfton plane together from parts found at a salvage yard near Kansas City, Mo., with the propellers purchased in Clinton.

Copyright © 2001-2008 Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, Inc. All rights reserved.

Northwest Arkansas Crime Report April 24-26, 2008

April 24 6:08 p.m. A caller at Cracker Barrel, 1022 S. 48th St., reported a couple being intimate in a vehicle behind the business.
Who knew country-fried steak and meatloaf were aphrodisiacs? They got a double helping of love gravy.

April 25 9:44 a.m. A caller at Applebee’s Neighborhood Grill, 528 N. 47th St., reported identity theft.
Impersonation of local eatery wherein cooks prepare freshly purchased food items on a stove.

2:25 p.m. A man on Southwest A Street reported a woman causing a scene.
Heaven help us, baby’s got her blue jeans on.

3:57 p.m. A woman at Bible Believers Book Store, 130 Spring St., reported a theft.
Too easy.

April 26 6:40 p.m. A woman at 1801 Anthony Drive reported someone draining Freon from her air-conditioning system.
She went on to report her suspicion of someone stealing gas out of her car. Every time she gets in her car, the fuel gauge is a little lower than before. And also, a person in a safari hat driving a small white truck keeps opening her mailbox.

Northwest Arkansas Crime Report Feb-Mar 2008

Feb 26 - 8:35 a.m. A man at Helping Hands, 320 Airport Road, reported they denied a man help on Monday, and he kicked the building, denting it.
Helping Hands is pretty selective for having an office in an aluminum lean-to.

3:22 p.m. A woman at 1877 Wheatland Ave. reported her husband’s 84-year-old mother trying to fight with them.
Never too old to BRING IT.

Feb 27 - 1: 06 p.m. A woman at 15789 Cow Face Road, Lowell, reported a front door left unlocked and an all-terrain vehicle, 18-foot trailer, computer, TV, and 10 bottles of perfume stolen.
Feb 28 - 7: 55 p.m. A man at 545 E. Whitefish Bay Place reported a burglary and 14 rolls of toilet paper and collector videotapes stolen.
These inventories are awesome in their total randomness. When did Girls Gone Wild become a collectors’ item?

8: 39 p.m. A manager at Burger King, 5660 W. Sunset Ave., reported receiving death threats via text message from a former employee.
UR DEAD. LOL. CUL8R.

March 4 - 3:10 p.m. A woman at 5409 Yellow Brick Road, Fayetteville, reported several youths with guns.
They represent the Lollipop Guild these days. They rule the streets in Munchkin Land.

What the fil-A?

It was really cold last weekend, so we decided to go to a new Chick-fil-A for lunch so Paolo could wear himself out on the indoor playground. We went right in the middle of the lunch rush, and the grand-opening fever was in full effect. However, since Chick-fil-A staffs their restaurants adequately, there is never a wait: one of the many reasons we eat there despite our aversion to fast food.

Speaking of staff, there were two employees working the dining room, and they were deadly serious about ensuring customer satisfaction. They weren't just table-wiping, napkin-restocking monkeys waiting to be needed. They were more like personal butler monkeys, doing their best to ingratiate themselves with the customers in order to anticipate our desires. "Do you like ketchup on your fries? Well, let me get you some!"

Looking around, I noticed that all the patrons appeared confused by the dining-room monkeys, bordering on weirded out. The male monkey, who looked thirteen, stopped at every table to inquire politely, "May I refresh your beverage?" Seriously. Without fail, every table paused to translate that phrase mentally into what we are used to hearing in an Arkansas fast-food establisment -"Kin ah gitcha another coke?" or "Ya'unt more ta drank?"- before being able to respond.

The female dining-room monkey kept chiding people about standing up. She sent me to my table right after I paid and explained that I was not to get up to fetch anything. Each time she performed some menial task and I thanked her, she looked deeply into my eyes and said, "It is my pleasure to serve you." How freaking strange is that?

I was so rattled by that experience, I left my purse hanging on the back of my chair. Oh, yes I did. And I didn't notice it was gone until Sunday, the only day Chick-fil-A is closed. Not to worry, one of the monkeys recovered it, and a manager happily handed it over to me when I showed up Monday morning. Looking back, I'm surprised I made it to the parking lot without a monkey chasing me down to return it, after slipping a few dollars into my wallet and twisting the Chapstick up a notch for easier application. Actually, I'm surprised someone didn't drive it out to my house, because that's the kind of love Chick-fil-A has for its diners. You and I know that if I had left it behind at any other fast-food restaurant, it would have been McHistory.

It's kind of like Yahtzee, but the dice aren't white.

Once again at the firm's holiday party this year, we were encouraged to select festive "Christmas names" for the silent auction. I didn't participate, as usual, but I was all about stirring up some trouble because I'm pretty sure not everyone celebrates Christmas. It's not merely politically correct to use the term holiday rather than Christmas; it's accurate. I helped one co-worker brainstorm her submission--Dreidel--and I suggested Kwanzaa to another co-worker. She smiled, put pen to paper and asked me how to spell it.
"K..W..A... Wait a minute, you do know what Kwanzaa is, don't you?"
"Yeah. Is it a game?"

Northwest Arkansas Crime Report 11/07

Nov. 22 - 11:34 a.m. A man at 12230 Rose Cemetery Road, Prairie Grove, reported exhaust fans to a chicken house turned off and about 1,500 chickens died.
Is it too late to add chicken to the Thanksgiving dinner menu? Waste not, want not.

Nov. 24 - 12:29 p.m. A man on South 19th Street reported his brother-in-law standing outside with a club saying “blood will be shed.”
If my husband stepped out of line, I wish my brother would come get all Braveheart on our front lawn, but he probably never gets that drunk.

2:57 p.m. A woman at 706 Dewoody Drive reported a turkey fryer stolen from the back of her pickup.
You know, you can get one at Wal-Mart that isn’t already coated with used grease and turkey fat for, like, fifty bucks. Seriously.

10:53 p.m. A man at Buffalo Wild Wings, 2707 Moberly Lane, reported an intoxicated man punching vehicles and the mailbox and refusing to leave.
Oh, he’ll leave all right, once the buzz wears off and he notices his hands are hamburger.

Nov 26 - 5:49 p.m. A woman at 16801 U.S. 71 in Winslow reported her neighbor shot her dog again.
It’s the “again” that kills me.

7:05 p.m. A caller at George’s Hatchery, 402 W. Robinson Ave., reported a car stolen.
Go, baby chickens, go!

Fright Night

My family deserved a quality Halloween experience. All previous Halloweens have gone poorly, and by "poorly" I mean they made us wish we had never had a child. For Paolo's first Halloween, we took baby Wizard to my boss's Halloween party, where Sam spilled a beer all over her granite countertop, making a huge mess for her Honduran maid to clean up. Halloween II entailed carrying little Frog Prince around crowded, miserable Malloween to procure smashed Tootsie Rolls and luggage coupons. Halloween III was epically terrible. Paolo's gorgeous dragon costume had puffy feet that rested on top of his actual feet. Paolo could not be persuaded that his actual feet still existed because, looking down, he could not see them. Screams of MY FEEEET echo to this day in the dark recesses of my memory. We had to carry Paolo around this Halloween, too. He refused to walk because he had no feet. And also, he threw up the teeny bites of candy I allowed him. Last year Paolo invented the character of Super Tiger Boy. You can read about that debacle here.

Which brings us to Halloween V. Sam and I went trick-or-treating with mini-Superman, and my mom stayed home with the pea pod. The experience couldn't have been more perfect, strolling through a historic neighborhood of big Victorian houses, teeming with giggling, costumed kids racing from door to door. I was thoroughly enjoying this idyllic slice of small-town America until we spotted two tween-age girls dressed up as Mammies. That's right: faces painted brown, slave clothes padded to form giant bosoms and bottoms, kerchiefs knotted around their heads a la Aunt Jemima. Holy lynch mob, Batman, I'd almost forgotten I live in the South. How, HOW did they think that was a good idea? Where were their parents? Probably out burning crosses. Sam tried to help me stop hyperventilating by assuring me that, at some point during the night, those idiot girls would run across a black family, preferably some hard-luck New Orleans transplants, and get their heads kicked in. That Sam, he always knows the right thing to say.