Loose Leaves, 1st run Sunday 21 May 2000 in The Morning News of Northwest Arkansas
Copyright 2000 Donrey Media Group
DATELINE MIRTHOLOGY — Jasper Jacks was surprised by the outcry over his Wise Acres shopping center. He could think of many reasons why residents protest, but they only had one.
Let’s see, he thought: College Avenue at Starburst Lane is the busiest intersection not just in Fayetteville but all of Northwest Arkansas. In fact, for blocks all around, there are dozens of stores.
“So you think, Jasper, that residents are worried about air pollution from cars and traffic congestion?” consultant Fenster Wiggle said. “Do you think they’re pro-business and worried how one more department store will profit when within blocks there’s Stage, TJ Maxx, Goody’s and Wal-Mart, not to mention the mall with Penney’s, Sears and Dillard’s?”
“Surely they’re not anti-growth,” Jacks said. “Nell Jung, that’s the lady in the tree, has a mobile phone, and her platform is built of cut timber.”
“Their cause is thoughtful growth. Thoughtful growth is not necessarily more expensive but is time-consuming. It takes time to figure out how to build well. Cleared land will be naked of nature for generations,” Wiggle said.
The two executives met at a picnic table in Gulley Park. Wiggle liked the lesson it eventually would teach Jacks. Gulley’s trees generally stand on its perimeter; most are young. It’s a huge, hot field, great for throwing flying discs but not for shady, lazy, all-afternoon picnics.
Wiggle pulled out his cell phone and called Longhand the poet.
Then Fenster stood and waved, for the black-hatted, blond-ponytailed versifier was swinging on a swingset 100 yards away. Longhand didn’t own a cell phone.
* * *
(We interrupt this satire to bring you a fable.)
Once upon a time there was a man who lived in a pretty old house in a pretty old neighborhood.
The azalea bush on the shady east side bloomed and flourished. The azalea bush on the sunny west side dropped more leaves with each passing season.
One morning the man went out with a shovel. He was going to dig up the sad azalea and replace it with a baby bush that would thrive on sun and heat.
From out of nowhere, Goldie the cat walked up.
“Meow. I like to nap beneath that azalea. It will be two years before the new bush is tall enough for me to hide under,” said Goldie.
“Cat, I own this house. I can do what I want,” said the man.
“Meow, then. I am going to sit on top of this azalea bush right here and yowl and embarrass you to the neighbors — until you go away,” said Goldie.”
Goldie jumped on the bush. The bush was spindly, and she broke all of its stems. It died.
MORAL: Knock, knock?
Azalea bracelets, pot roasts and clothes.
I’ll pay the rent and the light bill,
Then azalea some more of those.
(We now return you to our regularly scheduled satire.)
* * *
Fenster first recommended that the name of the anchor department store be changed.
“Dohl’s is too ethnic,” Wiggle said.
“No, our tenant is proud of the family name. It’s … it’s German, isn’t it?” said Jacks.
“Dole’s. It’s middle America,” Wiggle woozed. “D-o-l-e-s is as American as pineapples and bananas.”
Longhand recrossed his legs. He hated business meetings. He hated meetings. He hated business.
Prompted, Wiggle told Jacks he should do two things to cancel the negative publicity of tree-sitter Nell Jung.
The first task was to underwrite Jung’s Heart of Gold Consensus.
“They won’t take money from Dole’s or me,” Jacks said.
“Yes, it will. All these groups need funds. You are not to tie any obligations to it.”
“Whoa, really?” asked Jacks.
“Jasper, just give them a big check every quarter with absolutely no strings. Some of its membership spontaneously will be reluctant to cross you.”
“Whoa, really?” said Jacks.
Jacks wrote a check to the Heart of Gold gang. “What’s the second thing?”
“Dole’s has to have a theme song that appeals to the protesters. Shoe and computer company commercials use revolutionary rock songs. Longhand has parodied the one about the Kent State shootings. Also, this ditty will encourage customers to charge purchases.”
“I don’t do ditties. I don’t parody,” Longhand said. “I am a poet. This is an homage to a classic street anthem.”
Longhand strummed his ukulele and sang:
Tin Lizzies on Dickson Street,
We gotta move retail uptown.
La la, spring in the air,
La la, spring in the trees.
“Nell, how’s the view up there?”
“Great, Earth. Your day to seize.”
If we didn’t mine and harvest,
How could you and I drive to cafes?
Our plunder makes life full of zest;
The kids will fix this in future days.
For sale at Dole’s I owe.
For sale at Dole’s I owe.
Jasper Jacks smiled as he opened his checkbook again, humming the melody. It brought back memories.
“She’ll come down,” he thought.