How is it that a "major and small bowel" procedure at National Park Medical Center in Hot Springs is billed at an average $333,470, but only $19,740 at St. Bernards Medical Center in Jonesboro? Or that "infectious and parasitic diseases with OR procedures" are billed at $257,369 at National Park and $44,446 at St. Bernards?
Back during grad school, way down in Louisiana, The Observer met a man who — and we're a solid 85 percent sure on this one — was probably in the witness protection program. We can't remember his name anymore after all these years, but we do remember that it was a name as white as mayonnaise. John Something. Or maybe Jim Something. The last name wasn't anything as milquetoast as Smith or Jones, but we do remember that it was beige and forgettable, hence our forgetting, and hence the reason we suspect it may have been selected for him.
As a physician from a small community in South Louisiana, I believe that I can speak for my fellow citizens when I state that our most sincere sympathies go out to the residents of Mayflower with regard to their environmental plight.
Any public-university trustees considering merger of their tax-supported teaching hospital with a Catholic hospital should ponder these wise words from Americans United for Separation of Church and State.
If you are a beltway Republican, no antidote for the blues matches extended congressional hearings on a real or imagined national horror — that is, if it might heap dishonor on a Democratic administration. If Hillary Clinton will be the dishonoree, so much the better.
"What mighty contests," wrote 18th-century satirist Alexander Pope, "rise from trivial things." The poet had sex in mind, although something similar could be said about Americans and their pets. If you think people get worked up about politics, say something "controversial" about dogs or cats. Then prepare for action.
Also, 'J Dilla Change My Life' at The Joint, Nathaniel Rich at South on Main, Good Time Ramblers at Stickyz, 607 Presents: Block Monster Party at Revolution, Running of the Tubs in Hot Springs and 'Buzz-B-Q' at the North Little Rock RV Park.
Also, "Dardanelle Boys Often Come Home From Washington When They Need Residency to Run for Congress," rich guys don't understand the minimum wage, the prodigal gun and Tom Cotton and dirty telephone tricks.
The tween-pop Elvis is coming to Verizon for what is guaranteed to be the most frenzied concert Little Rock sees all year. Now, the Biebs has gotten more than his fair share of criticism since his astronomical ascent from YouTube scrubbery to international megafame, but we're not interested in calling out the omnipresent young pup for his fortunes, deserved or otherwise.
Hot Springs is the town where you gamble on the ponies, tread in the steps of gangsters taking the waters, and where a club on one of its most busy streets advertises "Strip Karaoke." But there's another spring bubbling up in the so-called Spa City, one that's bringing holy water to the surface.
Scott Ellington, the prosecuting attorney for Arkansas's Second Judicial District, said in a recent interview that, "There are no ongoing investigations by governmental investigative authorities" concerning the West Memphis Three case. Ellington may be the only person on the planet who believes there is "closure" in my case.