Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus

No original material in this blog entry. Besides, I can't describe the meaning and magic of Christmas any better than this exchange between Virgnia O'Hanlon and The New York Sun, from 1897:

We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:

Dear Editor:
I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, "If you see it in The Sun, it's so." Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?
Virginia O'Hanlon

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! He lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Happy holidays to all.

Effective plan needed to pay for jail

When it comes to the Mississippi County Jail and the current controversy over municipal jail fees, there are a couple of things that seem certain.

One, the jail will be paid for. There's never been any question about that.

Two, it is taxpayers living within Mississippi County who will foot the bill. And that's the way it ought to be,

The only question — and the main issue that has sparked controversy over the past few years — is which taxpayers will pay which portion of the jail's expenses. And that's a question with no easy answer.

A big portion of the jail's expense is covered by a county-wide jail tax. That tax was sold to voters some years ago as a fee that would support the maintenance and operation of the county facility. But as time has gone by, the cost of running the jail — like everything else in life — has gone up. And though county sales tax revenues have been on the upswing, the jail tax has apparently not generated enough revenue to cover expenses.

So in recent years, the county has made up for the shortfall by charging municipalities who house misdemeanor prisoners at the county jail a daily fee, per prisoner. The county has also diverted money from the county's general fund to help pay for the jail.

There's nothing wrong with any of this. It's legal; it's more or less fair. It's what other counties and cities in Arkansas do.

But what has generated controversy in the past, and again the last couple of weeks, is the county's decision to hike the fees it is charging municipalities to a level that is creating a budget crunch for cities. Blytheville Mayor Barrett Harrison, for instance, has complained loudly about the jail fees, and the Blytheville City Council has already raised millage rates to pay the fees. Other communities are no doubt feeling the pinch as well.

It's worth pointing out here, that at present, the county has been able to pass a budget for 2009 that is balanced, and apparently was able to do so without any cuts in county services. The budget for the jail is in the black, and this was accomplished without factoring in the latest increase in jail fees. In other words, it looks like the county is covering growing jail expenses out of its general fund, but hopes in the future to have the growing expenses covered via municipal fees. At least that's what it looks like from this perspective.

But what I don't understand is why there's anything wrong with the county covering jail expenses out of the general fund. Why force the cities to shoulder such an increasing chunk of the burden? After all, when a bad guy is locked up in the county jail, it's not like the cities are the only ones who benefit. In today's world, criminals migrate from one area to another, and any one area's high crime rate is a problem for everybody.

The truth is, keeping criminals in jail is something that benefits each and every citizen of our county. It doesn't matter whether the crime occurred in Blytheville, or Osceola, or Luxora, or Manila. County residents have a mutual interest in seeing those guys behind bars.

It's also worth a look at the consequences of jacking up the fees charged to municipalities. In short, if a city has to spend $55 a day to house an inmate, that's $55 a day less to spend on any other public service or quality of life enhancement in the city. It's less money to spend on police officers' salaries; less money to spend on fire departments; less money to spend on roads; less money to spend on parks.

With cities facing the budget crunch, the two most likely consequences of higher jail fees are reduced public services or higher taxes. And in a time when cities and the county alike are constantly trying to recruit new industry and new residents, neither option is particularly attractive.

It seems as though the citizens of Mississippi County would be more well-served to pay for the increasing costs of the county jail through the county's general fund. At least based on the 2009 budget, the county looks like it is reasonably well-positioned to be able to do so. When you think about it, since a majority of the county's population resides in cities, the majority of the money being used to pay for the jail will be coming from the cities anyway.

The thing to remember is that we're all in this together. Mississippi County and the communities within it are not autonomous entities, that just happen to be geographical neighbors. The truth is, they are intrinsically connected and linked and intertwined. Residents of cities contribute the largest portion of the county's revenue; county residents rely on cities for shopping, recreation and other public services. The relationship is symbiotic.

So when it comes to paying for a jail, a solution is needed that looks out for the best interests all residents of Mississippi County. And speaking as a county resident who does not reside within any city, I'm not sure tapping into the strained budgets of municipalities is the way to do it.

Technology helps rebuild bonds with past

Up until nine months or so ago, I had more or less lost contact with everyone I went to high school with.

That's one of the casualties of moving two states away from your hometown. I grew up in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. And there just aren't a whole lot of common denominators between Cedar Rapids and Blytheville, Ark.

The sole exception was Scott Drzycimski, with whom I still exchanged a Christmas card once year. And to be honest, I'm not sure the cards have been flowing too freely the past few years.

It was never something I lamented. The truth is, I really wasn't that close to many of my high school classmates. Indeed, most of the people I would count as "old friends" were people I met in college or through other pursuits.

But sometime last spring, it all changed. That's when my sister invited me to join the online social networking site known as "Facebook." I mainly joined on a whim — mostly out of pure curiosity over what in the heck a "social networking site" was.

And now, months later, I find myself checking Facebook at least once a day, having forged connections with an ever-growing list of friends and relatives. There are old friends, and new friends … people from high school, college and old jobs. There are even a few folks from right here in Blytheville.

You might hear some people talk about Facebook as a great time-waster. There's some truth to that. With games ranging from "Scramble" to "Word Twist" to "YoVille" to "Mob Wars," there's plenty to do on Facebook if you've got some excess time on your hands.

But I've also learned that there really is something gratifying to this whole "social networking" concept. Facebook has allowed me to fuse together bonds that I had long thought were permanently broken. And though a Facebook connection isn't the same as a face-to-face meeting, it's still a human connection, with an assist from the technology of the computer age.

I've exchanged correspondence with my old friend Adrienne Hallett, who now works at the Capitol in Washington. Adrienne sent me a bumper sticker for a Senate candidate she worked for, who shares a name with my son.

I've had contact with Laurel Erbe Slater, who has my dream job — working as a cast member at Walt Disney World. She's gave me tips for our next vacation to central Florida — after we reminisced about our trip there years ago with our high school band.

I've had a cyber-snowball fight with Robert Armstrong, hearkening back to days of flinging the real things across the parking lot outside Godfather's Pizza.

I've even had a nice dialogue with Noelle Hawk Jaddaoui, who actually graduated a half-dozen years before I even began high school. Our connection is that she played volleyball for my dad, who was the high school volleyball coach for a time.

I've gotten to hear about career updates. I've witnessed political debates. I’ve seen images of adorable children. And I've laughed at embarrassing old photos.

Belittle it if you will, but none of this would have been possible without Facebook. In a world where people don't stay in one place anymore — where old friends end up scattered across the country — Facebook is something brings it all back together. It reminds us that we all have connections that will forever bind us to certain places and people. And though time and space may stretch and strain them, those bonds will always be there.

My high school graduating class has had several reunions through the years, but I've never gone. In fact, I've never even given serious thought to attending. The way I looked at it, that part of my life was over. I'd moved on.

But now, having reconnected with several of my classmates, I see more value in a reunion. Given the distance, there will always be logistical problems. But for the first time, a reunion is something has some appeal for me. Yes, that life is behind me. But I've learned — much to my surprise — that the bonds connecting me to my past haven’t been severed completely.