Voices from the mailbag

Steve Barnes

Cabot, Sheridan and Marianna have something in common. Each has at least one reader who thinks, as one of them (J.L. of Grant County) puts it, that yours truly truly missed the boat, or missed the mark, when he suggested a comparison between a certain former president of the U.S. and the semi-literate cornpone demagogue played by Andy Griffith in “A Face in the Crowd.” The movie premiered almost 60 years ago, some of its scenes filmed in Arkansas.

The former American president in mention “did not, could not, rise to the level of Lonesome Rhodes,” J.L. insisted, referring to Griffith’s character, because Rhodes “had some understanding of government and politics, of issues.” Such grasp of the essentials wasn’t apparent in the movie, a point not lost on “C.L.” of Cabot, who considered the comparison to be not a column but a calumny. “It’s not enough that people like you stole the election,” she asserted. “You have to keep on smearing him. Shame!”

Kind of in between was Mary of Marianna, who twice voted for the former president but was not likely to do so again, if only because his treatment of women reminded her Rhodes. “I can still watch Andy as the sheriff of Mayberry, but I’m afraid (the former president) doesn’t have another act.”

And with that, our quarterly accounting of reader mail begins. Arriving either in envelopes or, increasingly, via the internet, comparatively little feedback involved state government: Gov. SaRAH Huckabee Sanders, her administration still taking shape, or the General Assembly, which approved essentially every item on her agenda. Does that suggest approval, generally? Or despair?

Or, perhaps, indifference? Not likely, judging from the reaction to a column of a few days ago, one based on the findings of a national poll that reported anything but political indifference. The research found self-identified Democrats and Republicans increasingly inclined to regard members of the opposition party as intent on destroying the nation. Richard of Fort Smith fit the pattern, or one side of it, “without apology. (Republicans) have proved they want nothing more than tax cuts and Christian nationalism,” he declared, writing from an Arkansas GOP stronghold. From the opposite pole, Dianne of (it appears) blue Pulaski County was “absolutely” convinced that “that feeble-minded Biden and the rest of them” would surrender the U.S. to China in the flash of an eye were it not for Republican control of the House of Representatives. Richard wanted the previous president jailed, while Dianne wanted identical treatment of the previous Speaker. I was tempted to provide each of them the email address of the other, but was fearful of being charged as an accessory.

Some thoughts on the congressional career of the late Rep. Marion Berry brought this response from Phillips County: “He stayed close to ‘us,’ as ‘Washington politicians’ are supposed to do,” wrote Bob of Helena, “and he brought home his share of the bacon. But a portion of the national debt has Marion’s name on it.” Mark of West Memphis wasn’t sure Berry could survive the political climate of the Delta today: “Why would folks around here go for a Blue Dog Democrat when they can have their choice of Blood Red Republicans?”

The column that brought the most feedback, by far, dealt with the dilemma of parents deciding when (there would seem to be very little room for “if”) their offspring will get a cellular device, either a simple cell phone or, as most kids would prefer (demand?), a smartphone. Tech researchers now say more than half of the country’s 11-year-olds are smartphone- equipped, with the percentage of ownership (or, possession) soaring to almost 95 percent of those in their mid-teens.

“I’ve told (name withheld) we will start her on a cell when she’s 12, and we’ll see how that goes,” said C.B. of Fayetteville. In time, she continued, her daughter “might move up” to a smartphone. Her concern, she says, is “the filth” that she says pervades the internet, against which supposedly foolproof blocking applications are inadequate.

C.B. had plenty of company in the anxiety department. Some parents, such as Pine Bluff’s “Zeke” were fearful of the distraction cell or smartphones could become at school. Baxter County’s E.F. had a different fear: Should the horror that has visited too many American schools come to pass in Arkansas again (“I remember Jonesboro,” E.F. said, referring to the 1998 murders of a teacher and four students at Westside Middle School) she wanted her daughter to be able to communicate the danger. Other parents were fearful of cyber-bullying, “sexting” and invitations to substance abuse. Valid concerns, all.

It’s a pleasure to hear from readers, whether they regard the author as a genius or, as likely, a jerk. So, thanks, and keep reading!