Sunday, May 19, 2013

My 05.22.2013 "All Over the Map" from Arkansas Weekly


Here be my “All Over the Map” from the 05.22.2013 issue of ArkansasWeekly:


Many people ask me, “Rob, what’s it like to resemble George Clooney?”

It’s a fair question, I suppose. Lots of folks might think that it’s a wonderful thing to look like a handsome and debonair movie star. Sure, I get double takes -- particularly from the ladies and effeminate men. I mean, I get it. People love eye candy like George and me. We’re treated differently.

But, being blessed with the extraordinary good looks of a popular celebrity does carry its burdens. For instance, I’m constantly interrupted at meals by strangers wanting an autograph or asking to have their picture taken with me. It’s extremely irritating, so I’ve started to do things a little different whenever I go out to eat. This past Thursday, I went to lunch with my son, and before the maĆ®tre d’ seated us, I announced to the entire restaurant that though I was a dead ringer for George Clooney, I was, in fact, not George Clooney. There was sort of a disappointed silence as my fellow diners then realized an international superstar was not in their midst, but no one bothered my son and me for our meal, and we were able to enjoy our Hooters burgers in peace.

I also get very uncomfortable by people staring at me all of the time. I can be at a stoplight next to another vehicle thinking about how good looking I am, and suddenly, I can feel the people in the other car looking at me. I want to turn to them and say, “I know you think I’m George Clooney, but really, I’m not George Clooney.” But then I don’t want to disappoint them, so I go ahead and let them gawk and let them think I really am George Clooney. Sometimes, I’ll turn and give ‘em a knowing wink, like, “Yep. It’s me – George Clooney, and you just caught me in a private moment at the traffic light.” Then, they can go and tell all of their friends and family they saw George Clooney reflecting on life while stopped at the traffic light today. What’s the harm, right? And if it gives these folks a good feeling on their insides, well then, I guess the only thing I can ask is that they pass it along and “pay it forward,” as they say, and spread some cheer to other strangers.

I have thought of using the fact that I look just like George Clooney for other positive purposes. I’m tinkering with the idea of approaching businesses and offering to be seen buying their products. This will cause people who see me to think George Clooney is actually using these items. A good example would be something like going to Kroger and purchasing a tube of Preparation H. Other customers would say, “Why -- there’s George Clooney! Oh, and look! He must prefer Preparation H over other hemorrhoid remedies!” I would then look to them, hold up the box, and with a grin and one arched eyebrow, say: “There’s nothing more soothing than Preparation H. Preparation H. Use as directed.” And suddenly, throughout social media, word would spread like blazing wildfire that George Clooney was seen purchasing Preparation H! Then, sales of the ointment would skyrocket, and Preparation H would reward me for my services with a $20 Golden Corral gift card!

And I don’t even suffer from hemorrhoids!

So, there is good and bad with looking exactly like George Clooney, but let’s not kid ourselves: the former definitely outweighs the latter. I enjoy the subtle perks of my uncanny resemblance to George Clooney, and I’m happy to shine some light into the eyes of really gullible people, even if it’s only for a few moments.

Oh, excuse me, someone is handing me a note. Let’s see what it says: “Dear Rob: You look nothing like George Clooney. However, if there is ever a market for Edgar Winter impersonators, then you be the man! Thank you and good day.”


(EDITOR’S NOTE: The legal department at Arkansas Weekly has informed us this disclaimer must be printed at the end of Rob’s column this week:  George Clooney does not endorse Preparation H, and as far as we know, does not suffer from the condition for which the ointment is intended.)


Thursday, May 09, 2013

My 05.15.2013 "All Over the Map" from Arkansas Weekly


Heres my “All Over the Map” from the 05.15.2013 Arkansas Weekly




North Little Rock was ground zero for fun when Fleetwood Mac rolled into town Friday, May 3. The Grammy award-winning group performed to a nearly sold out Verizon Arena, and judging from the reports of many attendees, the evening provided lots of memorable moments.

Before the concert, Cleavon and Debra Canker of Timbo, were giddy with excitement. This was their first concert since seeing Air Supply at a goat cheese convention in 2009 as well as their first trip to Little Rock since Debra had minor surgery for her corns in 2011. No doubt, they were ready to make an evening of it.

“Well, we were just so excited to get out of town,” said Cleavon. “We stopped by the Pier One and Deb here bought a lovely lamp there, and then we just finished at the Red Lobster. We love those cheese biscuits, don’t we Deb? And on the way over here, we had Fleetwood Mac blaring on the vans stereo. We were singing ‘…don’t stop thinkin’ about tomorrow’! Remember, Deb? Deb, remember?!?”

“Yes! Yes!” said Debra, clapping her hands in excitement. “And Fridays is usually our bridge group-slash-supper club night, so they were all over at Helen and Herb Huddlelittle’s tonight. And -- oh, Cleavon -- you tell the man!”

“Oh okay!” said Cleavon, clapping his hands in excitement. “So, we call the Huddlelittle’s house over our speakerphone in the van, and Herb answers, and Deb and I start singing ‘…don’t stop thinkin’ about tomorrow’! And they were…sojealous! Herb even said, ‘gosh darn it,’ or something!”

Cleavon and Debra most likely had a wonderful time as other attendees reported an evening of delightful music after the show had concluded.

“When our sister onstage started singing ‘Silver Springs,’ everyone in our group was simply in tears,” said Ethel Mank of Smackover. Mank chartered a limo from her community to the show with her fellow members of the Red Hat Ladies of Smackover. The ‘sister onstage’ referred to by Mank is Stevie Nicks from Fleetwood Mac, who is a member of the Red Hat Ladies of Malibu, California.

(Later, there was tension when Mank’s group traded looks and some words with the Red Hat Ladies of Thida, but Verizon Arena security quickly intervened and saved the evening from being marred by a vicious senior catfight. Chad Plinkton, head of security at the arena, gave this comment on the incident: “It’s unfortunate that these people have to bring their petty gang thug attitudes to a evening of wonderful entertainment.” Because of the event, Verizon has announced a ban of red hats of all types on women over the age of 50 for future concerts.)


Ethel Mank (right) of the Red Hat Ladies of Smackover speaks with fellow Red Hatter outside Fleetwood Mac's May 3 concert in North Little Rock.
But it wasn’t just Stevie Nicks that many people came to see.

“Oh my, that Lindsey Buckingham looked so delicious,” reported Mary Ann Finkweather. “He was a-struttin’ around that stage with his shirt open and that tan chest of his. Why, I could’ve slathered butter all over him and gobbled that boy up like a bowl of warm blackberry cobbler and vanilla ice cream!”

Finkweather made the trip with fellow residents from the Bubbles Choates Retirement Village which is located a few miles outside of Bald Knob. Marge and Jim Pusser, who share an apartment next to Finkweather, decided to hop on the bus at the last minute even though Jim was having issues with his new catheter.

“Well, you see, they have these new catheters that I saw advertised on the Sean Hannity program,” said Jim as he watched the village’s bus driver load Marge’s electric scooter on the bus after the show. “And, I said to Marge, ‘Why, Marge, would you look at that? Catheters you can take in your pocket!’ Why, I had never seen such a thing. And so I ordered ‘em on the intranet there, and overnight shipping was just $10, and so I said to Marge, ‘Why, Marge, overnight shipping is just $10!’ and so I -–”

“Honey, I think he only wants to hear about the concert,” said Marge as she gently tugged his sleeve.

Jim flashed a look to his wife and jerked his arm away.

“MARGE! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT INTERRUPTING ME IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE?!? I’M TELLING THE MAN ABOUT THE DAMN CATHETERS I ORDERED OFF THE SEAN HANNITY PROGRAM!!!”

Not everyone was in such a festive mood, however. Outside the concert, one lone protester stood across the street from the venue, holding a sign that said: “FLEETWOOD MACK IS FOR SINNERS AND OBANA LOVERS!” (Spelling is correct, by the way. – Ed.)

The owner of the sign, Vurl “Buddy” Reeves of Batesville, stood glumly with a scowl.

“Look at all these here hippies,” he said. “Son, the reason this country is goin’ to hell in a hambasket is because all of these here dope-smokin’, Obana-lovin’ hippy freaks! And who is this here Fleetwood Mac character, anyway? Please. Never heard of him. The greatest entertainer besides Elvis and Englebert Humperdickle was George Jones, and George Jones could kick this here Fleetwood Mac fella off the stage! And I tell ya one more damn thing: I betcha dollar and a Coke Cola that George Jones didn’t vote for no Obana either!”

All in all, though, the reports of frivolity and good times were many. The following day, the Little Rock chapter of the AARP reported a record number of sign ups at their booth outside Verizon, and Ernie Slims, spokesperson for Depends undergarments, reported a spike in purchases of their product at various stores around the Little Rock area before and after the concert.

“I tell ya, I haven’t seen anything like it since the George Strait concert three weeks ago,” said Slims.

This edition of “All Over the Map” has been brought to you by Geritol.

Geritol: We’re all getting old, and we’re all going to die. Geritol.

Thursday, May 02, 2013

My "All Over the Map" from the 05.01.2013 issue of Arkansas Weekly -- Plans for the Peabody Ducks:




My "All Over the Map" from the 05.01.2013 issue of Arkansas Weekly (with corrections*):

When the Peabody in Little Rock switches to the Marriott brand this week, the hotel’s signature ducks will waddle one final time through the lobby.  With the iconic birds leaving their longstanding home and theatrical tourist-pleasing days behind, many people are asking: Where will the little fellas go now?
I’m pleased to report that I have worked out an arrangement to purchase the ducks, and their legacy will live on for the name of charity.
Rob’s Charity Peabody Duck BBQ will be held Saturday, May 11, in the parking lot of W.R.D. Entertainment, the parent company of Arkansas Weekly, located at 920 Harrison Street in Batesville.
I mean, really, can you think of a better way for the Peabody ducks to go out? For years, they’ve basked in the limelight of being admired and cherished by thousands of tourists, and now, instead of living their remaining days on some dreary backwoods farm where a fox or coyote will likely rip them to shreds in a violent and painful death, the ducks will spend their last days comfortably relaxing in my enclosed garage at the house, complete with a kiddie pool and lots of duck food. And when they’re eventually prepared and grilled by an esteemed chef from Little Rock on May 11, their tasty remains will be auctioned off with proceeds going to the Rob Grace Charity Fund for Ladies Between the Ages of 21 and 46.
The fun will begin at 8 a.m. when I’ll present the ducks in one final red carpet waddle across the W.R.D. Entertainment parking lot toward the grill. Be sure to bring your camera because the ducks will be available for pictures with individuals for just a $5 donation to the Rob Grace Charity Fund for Tasty Imported Beer. So, don’t miss out on a chance of spending the final moments of these iconic ducks while they’re still alive.
For the kids (and kids at heart), bounce houses and face painting will be offered. And in case your children are sensitive, clowns will be available to perform while the ducks are being put down and cleaned. (There will be a $10 clown performance fee with proceeds going to the Rob Grace Charity Fund for Tunica Outreach.)
And speaking of putting down the quackers, I’ve enlisted the services of a local chiropractor who will quickly and humanely snap the ducks’ necks. The down collected from the ducks will be utilized for a jacket I’m having custom made to wear next winter, and an artist from Eureka Springs will be creating fashionable earrings from the ducks’ beaks that will further immortalize these adorable creatures.
Finally, our little friends will be prepared by Chef Ronny Crabstone, former lead chef at the Geyer Springs Waffle House in southwest Little Rock. Crabstone, whom I met early one morning after being viciously attacked by a pack of redneck women jealous of my boot scootin’ skills at the Electric Cowboy, has offered to donate his culinary talents in exchange for a carton of Marlboro Reds and a baggie of meth.
Each duck will then be auctioned off to those with appetites for a taste of Little Rock hotel history. Auctioning will start at $25 per duck. A limited number of Peabody duck wings will also be available for $3 a wing with proceeds going to the Rob Grace Charity Fund for Tanning and Eyebrow Threading.
Don’t forget. It’s Saturday, May 11, so circle the date on your calendar, and bring the entire family to Rob’s Charity Duck BBQ at W.R.D. Entertainment.
Let’s send the Peabody ducks out in style – and in barbecue sauce! 


*Our proof writer was asleep last week and missed my mistakes and typos, so naturally, I blame her. 
In fact, you might even come across others she missed. You never know… 
I keed. 
I keed.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

My 04.24.2013 "All Over the Map" from Arkansas Weekly -- Apologies


Here’s my “All Over the Map” from April 24, 2013 issue of Arkansas Weekly:

   

This might surprise you but, in many, many ways, I am clearly nuts.
   
Longtime readers of this column might have noticed the progression over the past few years. I once thought of myself as a snobby writer – ponderously riffing on books, films, music, current events, and politics. That’s why I called this column “All Over the Map,” because I imagined I would hold forth on a wide variety of subjects with a light, but sometimes serious touch.
   
Yet, as I noted, I’m nuts. And by “nuts,” I mean I’m extremely prone to goofiness and stupid humor. I love to laugh. Laughter and comedy, particularly in these rocky times, can be a healthy and welcome remedy to the darkness of the world. And, for me, the dumber the humor, the better.

To satisfy that side of my personality, I would write with the help of my good and trusted best friend, T. Blanston, Jr., under the column banner of “One Headlight.” But as the years went by, and – ironically -- as I matured, I realized the “serious” side of my writing was becoming snobbish and ponderous. I was beginning to sound like someone I would want to punch for being so self-absorbed.

So about five to six years ago, I decided to drop the pretensions of being a “cultured writer” – whatever that is – and devote this little space to the joy of things I find funny. But let’s be clear: a lot of you don’t share my sense of humor. And that’s fine.

Take “Jane,” for instance. Jane recently dropped the following note in the mail to me.

                            Batesville, AR
                            Wed. Morning
                            4-10-13

Dear Rob,
    Frankly I can understand why your family won’t talk to you. There may be several more after this week.
    I had just ate breakfast and put the dishes away when I picked up
Arkansas Weekly. Sad to say after reading your article, I lost all my breakfast.
    I have read a lot of your crazy stuff but this takes the cake.
    Get a life Rob.
                                That’s me
                                Jane


The column to which Jane refers was originally from the June 23, 2010 issue of Arkansas Weekly. (Click here to read.) As most of you know, I’ve been on a little break, so, luckily for Jane, this particular column concerning my collection of severed heads was selected to be reprinted in the April 10, 2013 issue.

Jane, I’d like to apologize to you for making you lose your breakfast on the morning of April 10. One day, I’d love to give you a tour of my collection, and perhaps you’d understand and appreciate my hobby. But until then, I certainly hope that you will continue to read “All Over the Map” despite the fact it apparently made you regurgitate. (By the way, we’re going to start marketing Arkansas Weekly with this tag line:  Arkansas Weekly, the home of “All Over the Map” – a column so amazing it has made people vomit.)

In another unrelated case, I’d like to apologize to those readers who, unlike Jane, don’t realize that my sense of humor can sometimes sneak into these pages in other ways.

For instance, despite the fact it was our first issue for April, despite the fact it was two days after April Fool’s Day, despite the fact this paper has published April Fool’s articles in the past (anybody remember the Corn Dog Museum?), and despite the fact that we published a noticeable warning label on the front page that said the issue might have April Fool’s content, many readers took the four April Fool’s “articles” published in the April 3, 2013 issue as fact. (Click here to read articles.)

That said, I’d also like to apologize to those folks who called Arkansas Weekly April Fool’s week to either, a) complain about the guy from Newport who wants to ban hunting and start teaching the Koran in area public schools, b) ask for more information on the Mountain Oyster Fry, c) obtain the phone number for the man selling 50 lb. bags of rotten catfish, or d) ask for directions to the Junior Samples State Park in Oil Trough, the location for the annual Oil Trough Panda Hunt.

Of course, those four articles sprang from my obviously unbalanced noggin, and I tried to present them as so outrageous and ridiculous, no one could take all of that stuff seriously.

Alas, I was mistaken.

My apologies again to those folks, and apologies to Leslie, our receptionist here at W.R.D. Entertainment. Apparently, she had to endure more than a few phone calls from readers who were fooled.

Be on notice that next year’s April Fool’s edition of Arkansas Weekly will be just as mischievous.




 

My 04.17.2013 "All Over the Map" from Arkansas Weekly -- Dog is Back!


Back from an extended break, here’s my “All Over the Map” from the April 17, 2013 issue of Arkansas Weekly:

Revolutionpix/WENN.com


He is back.

He’s been down. Some folks thought he was out. But, no, there’s no doubt about it: He is back.

Who is this man who has been far from our hearts for too long?

Well, it’s Dog the Bounty Hunter, of course.

I mean, “Der.” Who else would I be writing about?

The last time our peroxide-mulleted avenger of justice and slayer of any type of fashion sensibility left us, his hit reality show was kaput, his family was in shambles, and his beautiful wife, Beth, was in danger of snapping her spine because of the sheer girth of her gigantic bosoms.
           
But CMT has come to the rescue, and this month, the cable channel is premiering Dog and Beth: On the Hunt. The industry trade magazine, The Hollywood Reporter, describes the new reality show as following “…the struggles of a team attempting to move on without crucial team members, a father and a son both battling their own pride and the Chapman’s unwavering belief in second chance.”
           
Blah, blah, blah. All I want to see is Dog and Beth, a) bickering back and forth as they try to track down criminals with the team’s super state of the art set-up of walkie-talkies, Oakley sunglasses and paintball guns, and b) dealing with the constant threat of Beth’s bra finally snapping loose one day and possibly killing or seriously injuring anyone who might be standing at least five feet in front of her.
           
Yes, I’ve sorely missed the presence of these two American heroes on our media landscape and their exciting adventures in ensuring the streets of America are free from criminal vermin. When A & E cancelled the original Dog the Bounty Hunter series, I immediately plunged into a state of deep depression. For eight seasons, I intensely followed Dog and his crew of law avengers as they stalked the streets of Honolulu looking for those foolish enough to draw the Dog’s scent by evading the authorities. Eight seasons is a long time for someone to be drawn to and enveloped by the involving, suspenseful, and lest we forget, very real world thrills that Dog allowed to share with us.
           
During their absence, my depression became so intense that some of my friends intervened one afternoon at my house. They found me passed out, fully clothed, in my bathtub with empty forty ounce bottles of Colt 45 piled all the way up to my chest. I had been there for at least six days.
           
“You think Dog the Bounty Hunter would be crying and moping over a television show going off the air?!?” one of them asked me. “Hell, no! If being all sad and depressed was an actual walking, talking and physical being, he’d take that being to the back alley, clutch his neck, and strangle him until his eyes popped out of the sockets and they’re just hanging down by his cheeks with all those ligaments and nerves connecting ‘em! That’s how tough Dog is, brother! So, you need to man up, and make Dog proud!”
           
The “tough love” worked. A few days later, after I had sobered up and received a liver transplant, I began to develop a personal renewal plan that would make Dog proud. I would begin working out, studying law enforcement basics by watching old episodes of Dog’s show as well as Starsky and Hutch reruns, and receiving a sort of dark butterscotch spray tan to mimic the smoker’s complexion of my hero.
           
I began testing some of my newfound tactical skills by taking down the shady characters around this area. My first collar was a kid who thought he could get away with ripping off a longtime area business. I found out this punk was stashing his goods at his mother’s house, so I staked out the place and made my move.
           
Around 6 a.m., I rang the front door bell. I held my weapon, barrel down, ready to strike. After a few minutes, I saw a thin figure through the frosted glass, walking to the door. I could tell the figure was a young man, and that young man – the only teenage male at the residence – fit the build of the culprit.
           
The door clicked and slowly opened.

This was what it all came down to.

In a rush of pure adrenaline, I busted through and caught the perp off guard. I managed to shove him down to the ground and I stuck my weapon in his face.

“Don’t move!” I screamed. “Rob Grace! Bounty hunter! We know you have the goods, so keep it cool, and this’ll all go down easy-peasy!”
           
Then, in a move I didn’t expect, the kid grabbed my weapon and managed to tear it free from my grasp. Suddenly, this new career path of mine wasn’t going so well.

What would Dog do?, I thought.

“Dad! What the heck are you doing?!?” the punk screamed. “And why are you sticking my Nerf gun in my face?!?”

In a snap of reflexive defense, I managed to cover my face with my arms. “Don’t shoot! It could put my eye out!” I said. “Just hand over the goods, son!”

“What ‘goods’”?!?

“Hang on!” I said. “You promise not to shoot?”

“Yes,” he said.
           
I tentatively put one of my hands into my pocket. “Remember, don’t shoot. I’m just reaching for a piece of paper.” I carefully pulled out a crumpled note, put on my glasses, and read: “Zero Dark Thirty. The Watch. And, let’s see, The Hangover Part II. These all should’ve been returned to the video store a week ago.”

“You mean you scared me half to death because I haven’t returned those DVDs to the store?!?”

“You’re not going to become part of the Batesville criminal underworld!” I yelled before calming down just a tad. “Plus, they’ve already called twice, and it’s on my credit card. So, if you don’t mind, I really need you to take those back. Or I can do it now, if you want? Whatever you want, bud. Do you have them handy?”

Needless to say, the kid’s mother filed another new restraining order against me later that day. But, at least Dog is coming back to television. Now, I can vicariously live out my bounty hunter dreams by watching a real master tame the wild streets of America and give justice a fighting chance!


Arkansas Weekly's April Fools Articles -- 2013

Each of the articles below were published in the April 3, 2013 issue of Arkansas Weekly:


Mountain Oyster Fry to be Held Friday

The Independence County Bovine Association Leaders Ltd. at Southside (ICBALLS) will be holding its third annual Mountain Oyster Fry and Toss, Friday, April 5, at the W.R.D. Entertainment parking lot, 920 Harrison St. in Batesville.

Charlton Rake, president of the ICBALLS chapter, told Arkansas Weekly that this year’s fry and toss will feature some of the largest mountain oysters available.

“We’re really excited about the size of the oysters this year,” said Rake. “They’re huge and a little hard to handle when wet, so that will definitely make the toss much more exciting than in past years. And of course, everybody loves the taste of some delicious, big mountain oysters. I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to batter ‘em up, toss ‘em in the fryer, and chow down on some of the best mountain oysters in the county!”

The toss is always a thrilling event, drawing hundreds of eager contestants to the area, battling it out to see who can throw a raw mountain oyster the farthest. Vurl “Buddy” Reeves, 84, of Batesville is the current ICBALLS champion, and he told Arkansas Weekly, he has no plans to give up his title.

“I plan on winnin’,” said Reeves. “See, I have perfected a technique of cupping the oysters just right before I throw them. That makes a good long arch if they’re tossed just right. Plus, you gotta treat these things as if they was your own, you savvy?”

The oysters will be served at 11 a.m. with the toss beginning at 3 p.m. Admission is $5 for adults, $4 kids, and kids 12 and under are free. Counseling will be available for first-time attendees and children. Spectators of the toss are advised to wear helmets and safety goggles after 2011’s tragedy where four kids were injured after being hit with errant oysters from that year’s ICBALLS Visually Imparied Team.

For more information, go to ICBALLS on Facebook.

***
 Area Man Selling Big Catch!

Clem Jennings, 44, is the first to tell you he’s no relation to Waylon Jennings, the famous country singer and songwriter.

“But, just like Waylon,” says Clem, “I’ve always been crazy.”

Clem, an area podiatrist’s assistant, is also a part time fisherman looking for a change.

“Every morning, I go catfishin’,” says Clem, “and I’ve eaten a ton of catfish. But catfish gets a little old after a while, so I started puttin’ all the catfish I done caught in some fifty pound bags I get from the textile store. So, over the past three months, I done put all them catfish in these here bags, and they done been piled up in my garage.”

Besides losing the taste for catfish, Clem had also grown bored.

“Ever since I lost my dear wife, Francine, in a tragic gun cleaning incident that was ultimately judged to be an accident by authorities -- thank goodness,” says Clem with a relieved chuckle, “I decided to start looking for another long term relationship. So, I got on the intranets, and my new bride, Katrynia, should be UPS-ed here from eastern Russia by next Tuesday. I done got to get my garage cleaned up, so I’m selling these bags of catfish for $50 a piece -- first come, first serve.”

Though some might be concerned that leftover bags of rotting catfish could be a health issue, Clem says that judging by the smell, the recent cold weather has kept the fish fairly preserved.

“Just put lots of Tabasco on ‘em after you fry’ em, and they’ll taste like they just came from the quik mart,” says Clem.

Clem says he’ll be taking orders until Sunday, and after that, he’s decided to donate the remaining fish to local rest homes.

“So, call (870) 793-4196, ext. 35, and place your order,” says Clem. “And they gonna need to hurry pickin’ up their bags because I gotta sign for Katrynia when she done gets here. I don’t know how many holes they put in her box, and she’s probably gonna be ready for her new cot out in the garage!”

***
Panda Hunt Scheduled for Saturday
           
Kids of all ages are invited to this year’s Oil Trough Panda Hunt, Saturday, April 6, at the Junior Samples State Park, just off Turnip Breath Road. Grandma Burt’s Famous Panda Pies will be available for hunters and their families as well as panda face painting for the kids and kids at heart.
           
Ernie Glubstone with the Arkansas State Game and Fish Commission says this year’s panda release will feature at least four pandas captured from the Qinling Mountains in southern Shaanxi Province, China.
           
“These are really gonna be prime cuts of panda,” said Glubstone. “Lean, but tasty. Excellent in fajitas and chili. And the fur will make for a great stuffed toy panda for your kids, or you can sell it on the black market and take care of your kids’ college funds.”
           
All pandas that will be released into the park at 6 a.m. on Saturday have been fed a diet exclusively of organically grown bamboo and spring water. A shotgun start at 7:30 will let loose hundreds of hunters from all over Jackson and Independence counties as they spread throughout the park with their intricately threaded homemade nets and ornate, custom-made clubs.
           
Billy Peckinpah, 9, of Batesville, says he’s excited for his first panda hunt.
           
“I’m really stoked,” said Billy. “My big brother got his first panda two years ago, and I’ve watched the video of it over and over. That thing looked so cute when he realized my brother and his buddies had surrounded him. The end looks cool in slow motion, too.”
           
Some nearby residents, however, aren’t too happy with the longtime hunt.
           
“It just causes a mess of problems,” said Imelda Weinstein of Oil Trough. “I mean, first, all these people clog up the roads with their trucks and four wheelers with pandas strapped across the fronts. Then, the noise! Oy! Have you ever heard a panda scream? It’s a lot worse than a panther.”
           
However, there are others who say this article that you are currently reading crossed the line of good taste about eleven words in and never looked back.
           
“What kind of sick and twisted mind actually thinks the idea of a panda hunt, where participants are encouraged to go and club a panda to death, is funny?” asked Geraldine Smucker of New York City. Smucker, an esteemed jellyologist and blogger specializing in tasteless humor and its subsequent effect on societal norms and certain tennis elbow, interrupted the writing of this article about three minutes ago. “Hello! I’m talking to you. This is a sick and twisted concept for an article, and I really think you should be ashamed of yourself. You’re probably the wacko who wrote about the mountain oyster fry, that guy selling bags of rotting catfish and the freak who wants to ban deer hunting! What kind of childhood did you have to endure in order to come up with such deranged concepts with absolutely zero regard for good taste or humor?”
           
For the record, this reporter had a perfectly normal childhood: good education, nice family, and except for when they brought out the snakes, a regular Sunday school and church life.
           
For more information on the upcoming panda hunt, call (870) 793-4196, ext. 35.

***

California Transplant Looks to Promote New Way of Life to Arkansans
Says Ban of Deer and Duck Hunting Essential to Mother Earth’s Future

Wilkins Benneford looks just like any other 30-year-old male in these parts of Arkansas. He’s tall, a little on the thin side, but carries his self with an athletic stride and grace. Like many of his contemporaries, he’s also growing a long, thick beard in the style of the characters from the popular “reality” television program, Duck Dynasty.

But, whatever you do, don’t bring up the comparison in conversation with Benneford.

“I loathe everything those backwoods buffoons represent,” he told a reporter visiting his renovated loft in downtown Newport. “The Duck Dynasty characters are a blight on so-called ‘Southern Culture.’ They’re almost like a cancer on what the New South should represent. I had thought progressive Americans were trying to rescue the South -- or whatever you want to call it -- out of the Stone Age, and here come these hillbilly stereotypes with their mindless slaughter of some of Mother Earth’s most gracious birds of flight and their worship and their promotion of the evil American symbol, the gun. These people are nothing more than savages.”

Benneford, raised in California from a wealthy family line of landowners, moved to Arkansas after working as a volunteer for the Obama 2012 campaign. So, his sense of ‘Southern Culture’ might seem invalid to many area residents.

But Benneford said he was attracted to the area after he came across the 1995 Arkansas-set film, Sling Blade, on cable. And after seeing that Billy Bob Thornton-directed and scripted movie, the longtime Palm Springs resident decided to use his time to, as he puts it, “…bring Arkansas into, at least, the 20th Century.”

“You watch that movie, and you think, ‘My Mother Earth, people actually live in those squalid, detestable conditions,’” said Benneford over tofu salad and beet juice at his kitchen table. “You’d think you were watching some documentary from a third world country. It’s like a progression of scenes set in ugly dilapidated houses with filthy couches occupied by fat, flabby out of shape miscreants whose likely idea of a nutritious vegetable dish is cole slaw.

“Then you had Thornton, playing some inbred village idiot to this assortment of folks who look like they just stumbled out of the Hick Mobile. It’s a wonder they didn’t use subtitles with their country speak. It was all too much. And, I remember thinking, ‘You know I’m an agnostic, but if there is a God, I think She would be calling me to move to Arkansas, and be kind of a present day Paul and lead these people to some sense of modern civility.’”

Benneford said he was once sampling mushrooms backstage at a Rage Against the Machine concert when he threw a dart on a map of Arkansas to decide where to locate what he likes to call his “mission.”

“I first hit Camden, but when I drove into that town, it was as if I had entered a war zone,” he said. “I mean, there wasn’t a decent sushi place within 75 miles, so I threw the dart again, and came to Newport.”

With his girlfriend, Flower, and his “other life partner” Darryl, Benneford oversaw a renovation of the loft, including the painting of a large mural that takes up the main wall.

“The mural is sort of our mission statement, you know?” said Flower. “Arkansas is thirsting for knowledge and culture that transcends their current state – which is full of all types of backward attitudes and feelings not in sync with Mother Earth and her sacred aura. So, the mural consists of Buddha, the Dali Llama, and Malcolm X pleading with the stubborn mule – which of course represents Arkansas – to cross the line into the present day. And then, in a spirit of acceptance and forgiveness, we have Jerry Sandusky standing behind the three spiritual leaders, his arms open, as if to say, ‘Come to all of us, including those of us who might be misunderstood. We still welcome a gracious and willing crossover of Arkansas into normalcy.’”

Benneford and his group plan to begin developing a process that would dismantle many longstanding traditions in the state -- traditions, they feel, are antiquated and “unnecessarily rural.” One such action is to ban all types of recreational hunting, including duck and deer hunting in Arkansas.

“We’re really excited about this,” said Benneford. “There is already a team of lawyers from the American Civil Liberties Union, sacrificing their precious time to craft a legal action that will effectively outlaw the depraved acts of ‘hunting’ innocent creatures of Mother Earth. We also have ties to Rachel Maddow and her team at MSNBC, so the propaganda delivered will likely shame into the shadows those who want to try to continue to practice such hunts. And of course, through my connections, we have many contacts in the Obama administration who have pledged their full support of any kind of hunting ban.”

Benneford and his team have developed a learning program aimed at area schools where members of his team will speak to students to ensure the Arkansas youth will be “educated with their message of tolerance and modern times.”

“With the new laws our comrades at the ACLU have pioneered, we’re going to be able to hold these special programs at schools statewide and speak freely to the kids of Arkansas. We will make them sign pledges not to hunt as well as to turn in any friends or family who might try to evade the ban.”

These school events will also allow Benneford and his “Mother Earth Warriors” to further expose the young minds to other points of their view, ensuring the students are not “brainwashed” into the same kind of mindset held by their parents and grandparents.

“We’ll be pushing important things to help these culturally malnourished kids see the importance of living a lifestyle that is the exact opposite to the way many of their parents have been raised. We’ll make sure certain teachings of Abbie Hoffman, Gloria Steinem, and the Koran will be studied beginning at kindergarten age to properly mold the children’s thoughts.”

Benneford said he doesn’t expect much flack from locals because, as he puts it, “the majority of locals can’t read, so they’re not going to complain about anything, and if they do, they’ll have to answer to me or Darryl, and we both practice Tai Chi in the morning. I mean, they’ll take one look at us and walk away if they know what’s good for them.”

At press time, the first “Ban the Hunter” rally was scheduled to be held at an area elementary school this past Monday, April 1, at 10:30 a.m.

We’ll keep you up to date on the progress of the Mother Earth Warriors at the following website: lightenupfolksthisisalateaprilfoolsjoke.com.