With seats opening up among several of the county's top elected positions, 2010 looks to be a watershed year when it comes to Mississippi County politics.
The open seats start at the top, with county judge. Longtime Judge Steve McGuire has announced his plans to retire, creating an open race.
And with the death of former Sheriff Leroy Meadows earlier this year, the sheriff's race is also wide open. James Sanders was appointed to fill the remainder of Meadows' term, but is forbidden by law from seeking election.
Other county posts also figure to feature open races for the first time in years in 2010.
It's a situation that makes the 2010 elections some of the most important in recent memory, as the direction our county takes in years to come will be determined.
For that matter, for all facets of local government, the next several elections could produce watershed years. Taking a look across the faces of those who hold elected offices — whether it be quorum courts, city councils or school boards — you see a lot of folks who are likely at the end of their years of public service.
In other words, the next decade will likely see major changes in the leadership of many of our communities. Some of it has already started.
What will be interesting is to see what kind of leaders this next generation will produce.
Will we get the next generation of "good ol' boys" — men and women content to do things the way they have always been done?
Will we get obstructionists — candidates whose chief purpose is to stand in the way of someone else's plans?
Will we get prima donnas — office-holders who are more enamored by the public spotlight, and are only blithely aware of their constituents and job responsibilities?
Will we get experienced leaders — people who will bring their genuine talents and skills to a new level of public service?
Will we get consensus builders — leaders who possess the people skills to forge compromises, and unite people?
Will we get visionaries — people who can see beyond the way things are, to the way things could be?
So far, at the county level, we've got four candidates for sheriff and two candidates for county judge. Running for sheriff are Tommy Bennett, Dale Cook, Ed Guthrie and Jackie Hill. Running for judge are Randy Carney and John Alan Nelson.
There may be more candidates out there, but the six mentioned above are those who have notified the local media of their intentions.
And that brings us to another point. When it comes to press coverage, the Courier News has agreed to publish an "announcement" story when a candidate announces his or her candidacy. Coverage of all other campaign events after that will be considered paid advertisements. The exception would be events or articles when all candidates are included.
So far, all of the candidates are Democrats, which is pretty common for Mississippi County. That means the election will likely be decided in the May 18 primary (and any subsequent runoffs), rather than the November general election.
It should to be a fun campaign to watch. That is, it ought to be. My hope is that the candidates running (and their backers) keep their heads about them. Political races are a competition, and in any competition, fans of one side or the other are prone to cases of tunnel-vision when it comes to their guy (or girl). And it's this kind of tunnel-vision and single-mindedness that leads to political nastiness, and it must be resisted.
We need to be able to have a civil debate in our communities. This is no more true than in the next eight months, with the future direction of our county on the line.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
It's time to throw your hat over the wall
It's about a month before it's time for the 5K run/walk being held in conjunction with this year's Greater Blytheville Chili Cook-off Oct. 17.
If you're one of those folks I've spoken to who have thought about joining in, but haven't signed up yet, or are hesitating for whatever reason, my advice is to throw your hat over the wall and do it.
"Throwing your hat over the wall" is a phrase used to convey a commitment do doing something. The idea is that once your hat is over the wall, you have no choice to to climb over and get it.
In regard to the 5K, throwing your hat over the wall means signing up. For anyone who wants to take part, but is dragging feet when it comes to commitment, signing up — as soon as possible — is the way to go. It's the best way to compel yourself to do something healthy for yourself.
This is what I had to do when I ran my first 5K last spring. I'd been running off and on for several months. I liked getting the exercise, but without a sense of accomplishment, it was hard for me to stick with it, consistently.
That's when I started playing around with the idea of running a 5K. I spent weeks perusing the Internet for potential runs, but for the longest time, I never signed up. I made excuses about my schedule, the location of the race or the number of participants. But in the end I was just nervous. Eventually, I decided it was time to get over it.
The race I settled on was down in Marion, an event sponsored by the chamber of commerce down there. It was billed as a "fun run." I threw my hat over the wall and signed up. I found satisfaction in knowing I had something to aim for, that there was no turning back.
The event featured just over a hundred runners in all ages, shapes and sizes. You could tell there were some "real" runners, as well as some just out for a long stroll. It was the right kind of race for me — challenging, but not overly competitive. I finished with a time of 29 minutes and 29 second — fairly slow by the standards of "real" runners. But I've learned to understand that the only standards that matter are my own.
So when I did my second 5K on Labor Day in downtown Memphis, my only goal was to beat my earlier time. This run/walk featured nearly 1,700 runners, so it was a different experience. Yet it was still very much the same — some participants were old, some were young; some were thin, some were round. There were some who ran fast, some who ran slow, some who walked, and some who did a little of everything. There was a great feeling of camaraderie, and a general sense that it wasn't about winning or setting records, but simply about getting out there and doing it — doing something healthy on a sunny autumn morning.
I expect the 5K to be held in Blytheville will be no different. In addition to a 5K run and a 5K walk, there is also a 2-mile "family fun run." The events begin at 8 in the morning, so there's still plenty of time to take part in whatever activities you have planned for the day, whether it's a soccer game, college football on the television, or the chili cook-off on Main Street. In other words, there's no good excuse not to do it.
Registration forms can be picked up from the United Way office on Park Street. You can also register online at www.racesonline.com. Registrations will also be taken the day of the race. Cost is $20, ($30 on race day) which includes a t-shirt. Proceeds benefit the United Way of Greater Blytheville.
If you want to do something healthy; if you want to enjoy a fabulous autumn morning; if you want to help out the United Way; if you want to do something that will make feel supremely good about yourself, I urge you join me by throwing your hat over the wall and taking part in this event. You won't be disappointed.
If you're one of those folks I've spoken to who have thought about joining in, but haven't signed up yet, or are hesitating for whatever reason, my advice is to throw your hat over the wall and do it.
"Throwing your hat over the wall" is a phrase used to convey a commitment do doing something. The idea is that once your hat is over the wall, you have no choice to to climb over and get it.
In regard to the 5K, throwing your hat over the wall means signing up. For anyone who wants to take part, but is dragging feet when it comes to commitment, signing up — as soon as possible — is the way to go. It's the best way to compel yourself to do something healthy for yourself.
This is what I had to do when I ran my first 5K last spring. I'd been running off and on for several months. I liked getting the exercise, but without a sense of accomplishment, it was hard for me to stick with it, consistently.
That's when I started playing around with the idea of running a 5K. I spent weeks perusing the Internet for potential runs, but for the longest time, I never signed up. I made excuses about my schedule, the location of the race or the number of participants. But in the end I was just nervous. Eventually, I decided it was time to get over it.
The race I settled on was down in Marion, an event sponsored by the chamber of commerce down there. It was billed as a "fun run." I threw my hat over the wall and signed up. I found satisfaction in knowing I had something to aim for, that there was no turning back.
The event featured just over a hundred runners in all ages, shapes and sizes. You could tell there were some "real" runners, as well as some just out for a long stroll. It was the right kind of race for me — challenging, but not overly competitive. I finished with a time of 29 minutes and 29 second — fairly slow by the standards of "real" runners. But I've learned to understand that the only standards that matter are my own.
So when I did my second 5K on Labor Day in downtown Memphis, my only goal was to beat my earlier time. This run/walk featured nearly 1,700 runners, so it was a different experience. Yet it was still very much the same — some participants were old, some were young; some were thin, some were round. There were some who ran fast, some who ran slow, some who walked, and some who did a little of everything. There was a great feeling of camaraderie, and a general sense that it wasn't about winning or setting records, but simply about getting out there and doing it — doing something healthy on a sunny autumn morning.
I expect the 5K to be held in Blytheville will be no different. In addition to a 5K run and a 5K walk, there is also a 2-mile "family fun run." The events begin at 8 in the morning, so there's still plenty of time to take part in whatever activities you have planned for the day, whether it's a soccer game, college football on the television, or the chili cook-off on Main Street. In other words, there's no good excuse not to do it.
Registration forms can be picked up from the United Way office on Park Street. You can also register online at www.racesonline.com. Registrations will also be taken the day of the race. Cost is $20, ($30 on race day) which includes a t-shirt. Proceeds benefit the United Way of Greater Blytheville.
If you want to do something healthy; if you want to enjoy a fabulous autumn morning; if you want to help out the United Way; if you want to do something that will make feel supremely good about yourself, I urge you join me by throwing your hat over the wall and taking part in this event. You won't be disappointed.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Skating party brings back fond memories
September is now upon us, and another school year is in full swing. And with that has come the inevitable return of birthday party season.
There aren't a whole lot of birthday parties over the summer. I guess it's too hard to adequately distribute invitations without the central distribution point that the elementary school classroom offers.
On Sunday, my 7-year-old son Drew was invited to Skateland for the birthday party of his buddy, Ethan. Ever the fan of the skating rink, my daughter Katie, 10, decided to come along as well. And so it was that I spent my Sunday afternoon at the skating rink. Though the crowd of second-graders on hand had to have been well above the legal limit, everyone seemed to have a good time.
My skating days are well behind me, so I was content to take on the role of spectator. And as I watched, I got to thinking about similar events from my own childhood.
In the early 1980s, the annual family skate night was arguably the pinnacle of the social calendar for the students of Cleveland Elementary School. The skating rink would be packed for the night. There would be a long line to get in, a long line to get skates, and the rink was always crawling with skaters. We used to have to fight to find a place to store our street shoes, and inevitably, there would be a large crowd gathered at the concession stand, where kids would stand in their skates as they waited for corn dogs and jumbo pretzels.
The local rink featured a hopping video arcade. I'll always remember the year they got a new "Star Wars" game. I waited all night for my chance to play, and I darn near blew up the Death Star on my first try.
We had great fun with the typical skating rink games, like the "four corners" dice game, the "Hokey-Pokey," and the "Limbo" (all of which were enjoyed last Sunday as well). We'd skate to the "YMCA," and grow dizzy watching the specks of light cast by the disco ball sweep across the floor.
I was never a great skater. The annual skate night was usually my one-and-only visit to the rink each year, and I was always pretty much a wall-hugger. Sometimes, by the end of the evening, I'd venture 3, maybe 4 feet away from the sanctuary of the wall, but it was always with great trepidation.
But the high-point of any skate night was the "couples" skate, in which boys and girls would partner up for a few laps around the rink while the latest ballad of the day played on the sound system. The younger kids would be hand and hand, while the older kids would dare to skate facing each other, with one skater (almost always the girl) facing backward. For the elementary school sect, there was no greater consummation of a "relationship" than a couples skate. A couples skate with a pretty girl would be something you'd brag about for the next six months.
The night would end, and we'd change back into our street shoes, always remarking on how weird it felt to be back in shoes that didn't roll. We'd nurse our blisters for days afterward, but always keep the good memories.
When I think back to my elementary school days, the nights of the annual skating parties are among the highlights. So I'm glad to see that my kids are being able to build some of the same kind of memories. It's something worth remembering, when I'm sitting at the rink, stuck in spectator mode. I'm glad Blytheville has a skating rink, and I know Katie and Drew are looking forward to their next skating party.
But now that I'm in father-mode, I must say that if they start doing boy-girl couples skates, we might have to re-think the whole thing.
There aren't a whole lot of birthday parties over the summer. I guess it's too hard to adequately distribute invitations without the central distribution point that the elementary school classroom offers.
On Sunday, my 7-year-old son Drew was invited to Skateland for the birthday party of his buddy, Ethan. Ever the fan of the skating rink, my daughter Katie, 10, decided to come along as well. And so it was that I spent my Sunday afternoon at the skating rink. Though the crowd of second-graders on hand had to have been well above the legal limit, everyone seemed to have a good time.
My skating days are well behind me, so I was content to take on the role of spectator. And as I watched, I got to thinking about similar events from my own childhood.
In the early 1980s, the annual family skate night was arguably the pinnacle of the social calendar for the students of Cleveland Elementary School. The skating rink would be packed for the night. There would be a long line to get in, a long line to get skates, and the rink was always crawling with skaters. We used to have to fight to find a place to store our street shoes, and inevitably, there would be a large crowd gathered at the concession stand, where kids would stand in their skates as they waited for corn dogs and jumbo pretzels.
The local rink featured a hopping video arcade. I'll always remember the year they got a new "Star Wars" game. I waited all night for my chance to play, and I darn near blew up the Death Star on my first try.
We had great fun with the typical skating rink games, like the "four corners" dice game, the "Hokey-Pokey," and the "Limbo" (all of which were enjoyed last Sunday as well). We'd skate to the "YMCA," and grow dizzy watching the specks of light cast by the disco ball sweep across the floor.
I was never a great skater. The annual skate night was usually my one-and-only visit to the rink each year, and I was always pretty much a wall-hugger. Sometimes, by the end of the evening, I'd venture 3, maybe 4 feet away from the sanctuary of the wall, but it was always with great trepidation.
But the high-point of any skate night was the "couples" skate, in which boys and girls would partner up for a few laps around the rink while the latest ballad of the day played on the sound system. The younger kids would be hand and hand, while the older kids would dare to skate facing each other, with one skater (almost always the girl) facing backward. For the elementary school sect, there was no greater consummation of a "relationship" than a couples skate. A couples skate with a pretty girl would be something you'd brag about for the next six months.
The night would end, and we'd change back into our street shoes, always remarking on how weird it felt to be back in shoes that didn't roll. We'd nurse our blisters for days afterward, but always keep the good memories.
When I think back to my elementary school days, the nights of the annual skating parties are among the highlights. So I'm glad to see that my kids are being able to build some of the same kind of memories. It's something worth remembering, when I'm sitting at the rink, stuck in spectator mode. I'm glad Blytheville has a skating rink, and I know Katie and Drew are looking forward to their next skating party.
But now that I'm in father-mode, I must say that if they start doing boy-girl couples skates, we might have to re-think the whole thing.
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