Jack Pearadin and Doug Nelsen found a 1.73-carat diamond after nearly a year of searching the park's field.
Better enjoy them now because these rascals won't be around long (the ones that haven't disappeared already).
Phonographs with turntables.
Vintage Ms. Pac-man video games.
Sane talk radio.
Free web content.
Having a few cold ones on your own porch with the guys, not being loud and obnoxious about it, either.
Public phones that work.
Neighborly gestures, such as stranded-motorist assistance.
Post-snakehead native fishes.
Bluebirds, if you have cats.
Home-phone confidence that the vice president isn't eavesdropping.
Public officials double-dipping.
Blessed assurance that you won't be shot in church.
Baseball players with unshriveled nads.
Trying to steal electricity with jumper cables.
Competent book editors.
Competent tech support.
Unredacted government documents.
Abortion providers willing to put up with all the stress and hassle.
A human being on the other end of the line.
Places to have your shoes resoled. (Or resold, if you're tired of them. Or resouled, if they've sinned.)
Golf announcers who don't kiss the ground the Tiger walks on.
Televangelical get-well prayer requests that came in without a donation.
Co-pays that are less than your house payment or car payment.
Good teeth, if you do meth.
The turtle hull.
Your Miranda rights.
Getting away somewhere you can't be reached.
The security of knowing that you have a full-size spare tire and a strong jack.
Chili with at least an inch of grease floating on top.
Your Minnie Pearl hat with the price-tag.
The cattle prod you use on people holding up the cafeteria serving line.
The Best of Amos and Andy on TV.
The village locofoco.
Green Party candidates, i.e. actually interested in issues.
Antibiotics that work.
Or some of those extra-strength placebos.
Hospitals where you aren't more likely to die from an infection you got there than from whatever caused you to seek treatment there in the first place.
Your tanning bed.
Vittles cooked in lard. That is, tasty vittles.
Butane tanks in the yard.
Underwear that stays out of sight.
Cash on the barrelhead.
Knife-flipping games with an infant nearby.
Seining bar pits for fish bait.
Tasty tomato varieties of Century 21.
Gasoline under $3.
Sightseeing opportunities in Pine Bluff.
Drinkable restaurant tea.
Plausible excuses for continuing to live in Cabot.
Bob Lancaster, one of the Arkansas Times longest and most valued contributors, retired from writing his column last week. We’ll miss his his contributions mightily. Look out, in the weeks to come, for a look back at some of his greatest hits. In the meantime, here's a good place to start.