Is annexation good for anyone?

As a resident of the Armorel area, I took particular interest when I heard of plans by the Blytheville City Council to study the possible annexations of several outlying neighborhoods.

The neighborhoods in question are Armorel Estates and Birchwood, both in the Armorel area, as well as Meadow Lawn, located north of Wal-Mart, and Ramblewood, located off of North Franklin.

For the record, I don't live in any of those neighborhoods. But as a resident of the greater Armorel area, it's still something that caught my attention, and perhaps I can offer some perspective on the matter.

My knee-jerk reaction is the same as many of my neighbors — that is, somewhat negative. It just seems somehow wrong — un-American even — to use legal force to bring a group of people into a municipality who already made a conscious decision not to live there. Though there could conceivably be an election on the matter, it will likely be the whims of Blytheville voters which will determine the outcome, as the voters in Armorel and the other neighborhoods would be a distinct minority.

Beyond that, there's been those who have implied that people living just outside the city limits are somehow "freeloaders" — taking advantage of what the city has to offer without actually living there. Quite the opposite is true, actually. Those living outside the city limits contribute just as much to the local economy as anyone else — without ever having a vote to cast on any matter of city governance.

I was also taken aback by comments from Municipal League consultant Jim von Tungeln, who advised council members against having a public hearing on the matter, for fear such an event would serve to mobilize opposition to the idea. God forbid the city be open, honest and straightforward with its plans. So much for promoting democracy and open government. (Kudos to Jim McClain for advocating a public forum.)

But after giving more thought to the matter, there are a number of potential advantages to annexation for residents of outlying neighborhoods. For one, police and fire protection could improve — which could result in lowered insurance rates. For another, I know I sometimes wish I had access to the city's code enforcement protection, which would come in handy in the event that a neighbor decides to turn his front lawn into a used car lot. And it would also be nice to have a vote the next time the City Council decides to push a sales tax hike.

Besides all that, adding a few thousand people to its population — besides increasing the city's take of state turnback funds — could boost the city's profile, statewide. And that's something that could benefit the entire area.

It's also worth noting that annexation would have no bearing on school district boundaries. Those living in the Armorel area for the school district would have no reason to fear switching schools. That myth can be laid aside.

That said, I remain skeptical of the wisdom of annexation. Mainly, I'm just not confident the city of Blytheville has the means to support any new neighborhoods. Annexing these areas would create a need for more police officers, more police cars, more firefighters and maybe even a new fire station. More man hours would be needed at city hall to manage the various needs and requests of thousands of new Blythevillians. Garbage trucks would have more miles to travel. And the city would quickly become responsible for a whole new slew of city roads, some of which are already in horrible condition (see Meadow Lawn.)

It's no secret that despite diligent and industrious efforts, the city of Blytheville, at present, struggles to provide services to its current set of city limits. It's been years since there's been any major street repairs. It took a tax referendum to provide adequate support to the city's police and fire departments. And there's been countless news articles in the past year detailing the city's budget cuts.

In other words, one must ask how a city struggling to manage its current population and land area could expect to effectively take in more land area?

At the end of the day, I think I stand with Councilman R.L. Jones, who has been alone on the Council in opposing spending $8,500 in taxpayers' money to study the possibility of annexation. It just doesn't seem prudent to blow that kind of cash on something that just doesn't seem like a very good idea. Especially when there are so many other better ways the city could put that kind of money to good use, whether it's fixing pot-holes, improving drainage or any other of a range of problems that any of us could name.

Perhaps a couple years down the road — after the city gains access to its streets fund, the parks and recreation fund develops, and the city gets a better grasp on its budget situation — expanding its boundaries and growing its population might be something worth pursuing.

But not now. Right now, the city of Blytheville has its hands full. It should leave the outlying neighborhoods alone.

The slow, hot march toward summer's end

And so, it begins.

Or rather, it ends. Or at least starts to.

I'm as big a fan of the Fourth of July as anyone. I love the fireworks, the family gatherings, the cookouts, the parades.

But the problem I have with the Fourth of July is that it marks a pivot point. Prior to the Fourth, the summer is in its infancy, with all the freedom and possibility you can imagine. But once the holiday passes, the slow march toward summer's inevitable end painfully comes into focus.

The Fourth of July is an explosion of summer grandeur. But then the rest of the summer so often fizzles away, a slow bake in the hot Delta sun. The season that was once a clean slate of endless summer opportunity, becomes no more than a driveway littered with the burned-out debris of bottle rockets and fading days of glory.

A recent trip to the Wal-Mart Supercenter didn't do much to change the mood. By Sunday afternoon, aisles that once housed an infinite selection of summer cookout and beach gear were being cleared out to make way for the dreaded back-to-school aisle. Signs the once championed the "American Summer" were coming down, replaced by signs urging customers to "Do the Math" for back-to-school savings.

And a familiar tale has appeared in the "daily almanac" sections posted in this newspaper and many others: The days are getting shorter. At a slow-but-steady rate of a minute or so every couple of days, the sunrises are getting later, and the sunsets are getting earlier. It's but another reminder of the slow retreat of summer days.

Post-July 4 to late August is the dead zone. This is the time of year when life slows down around here. The excitement of the new summer has worn off, replaced by the hot, heavy afternoons that define mid-to-late summer in the Delta. Many vacations are already over. Baseball season is finished for everyone but the diehards. And many folks simply retreat into the sanctuary of their air-conditioned homes and offices.

A look at the calendar of events in the newspaper tells the same story. Gone are the Saturday's packed with community events. Most all that remains is the steady drone of civic club gatherings and city committee meetings. Only an occasional baseball tournament breaks the monotony.

It shouldn't be this way. Summer is too glorious of a time to simply hibernate away the last six weeks. There's still time for camping trips. There's still time for backyard campfires. There's still time for nights at the ballpark.

Sure, it may be hot. But I ask you this: Would you rather put up with a little hot sun and humidity, or spend a few days back in the darkened tundra that followed last January's ice storm? I, for one, will take the heat any day.

So fading as it may be, I intend to cherish every last moment of this summer. Because as inevitably as Wal-Mart will change is displays a month in advance of the next seasonal milestone, summer will indeed end. The leaves will change; the temperatures will cool. And before we know it, we'll all be longing for summer to arrive again.

That's why we need to cherish the one we've got. There's still time.

The things you learn while on vacation

In many ways, a vacation is an educational experience.

Sure, vacations are more often billed as chances to relax or have fun. And they often are. But my experience has always been that you can also learn a whole lot when you venture away from home.

My family and I returned Sunday from a vacation that took us from the Ouachitas of southwest Arkansas, across the Ozarks of Missouri, to the rolling plains of eastern Iowa. It was one-part family getaway, one-part visit to family, hence the jaunt across the Midwest.

But along the way, we had our share of adventures. We rode roller coasters and water slides in Hot Springs. We dug for diamonds outside Murfreesboro. We skipped rocks at the headwaters of the Spring River near the Arkansas-Missouri border. We visited old haunts in central Missouri. We played a pickup game of baseball on the Field of Dreams. We watched a barge move through a lock-and-dam from atop a bluff in Dubuque.

We logged quite a few miles on our Camry, and hopefully made a few memories along the way. But I can say I also returned home a little bit wiser.

For instance, I now know I am no fan of "car" vacations — nomadic trips where you're constantly on the move and living out of a suitcase. For my next vacation, I want to go somewhere and stay there. I've unpacked and repacked the car more than enough times over the past week.

I've learned that traveling wreaks havoc on my digestive system. My body just can't handle changing diets and hours of sitting like it used to. Honestly, I haven't felt "right" in days.

I've learned that I can't go on vacation without frequenting Wal-Marts. I'm not sure a day went by on our trip in which I didn't set foot inside a Wal-Mart. Even after we pledged not to do so, we'd find ourselves in need of band-aids, or sunscreen, or bottled water, or something else, a day later. All the more reason to avoid nomadic vacations.

I've learned that my kids don't need thrill rides to have a good time. When quizzing Katie, 9, and Drew, 7, about their favorite parts of their vacation, neither immediately mentioned our trip to Magic Springs. Instead, they mentioned things like our visit to the National Mississippi River Museum in Dubuque, swimming in the various hotel pools, and playing the Wii with their cousins. It's something to remember when it comes to future vacation planning.

I've learned that when it comes to theme parks, there may be better options than Magic Springs, anyway. With more than a third of its rides closed, and some questionable customer service (not to mention a general lack of air conditioned spaces), Magic Springs was a bit of a disappointment. Next time we're looking for an amusement park within driving distance, we'll likely look to Missouri or Tennessee.

I've learned that Arkansas has some incredibly hot summers. Though from what I've heard, I didn't need to leave home to learn that one.

But most of all, I've learned that I like my home. I've known it all along, of course, but there's something about seeing your house — and your yard, and your bed, and your neighborhood, and your community — for the first time in more than a week that makes you appreciate what you've got.

It's good to be home.