I am confused. For the past year, the people of Searcy have been told that the proposed Advertising and Promotions tax was designed to improve our parks system. I personally thought this was a bit silly, considering our parks are wonderful and have been for several years.  I spent my youth on those fields and spent several years working out there as an umpire. We have hosted many competitive tournaments and been praised by visitors for the quality of our facilities.  What needs do the parks have that are so dire that we must raise taxes?  I would like to hear some from the proponents of the tax. Don’t they know that we built the new soccer fields, expanded the baseball facility and remodeled Spring Park without raising taxes? 

I have to confess that two weeks ago, I didn’t know much about “The Hunger Games,” the latest young-adult-lit sensation. Before reading the book and going to see the film last weekend, all I had heard was that the story was about a bunch of young adults in a grueling competition that leaves them hungry, sleep-deprived and even hallucinating, all for the amusement of a live audience. So naturally I thought it was about Spring Sing.

Before I go stepping on toes, let me explain myself.  Now, there are many reasons why people go to college, and I am not immune to a very popular sentiment that a large population of college students share. I am at college because, when it came time for me to make the decision, I believed that it was just what people did after high school; a way to push off the real world for another four years.  But this article is simply an appeal to a romantic notion of what should be at the heart of a true “liberal arts” education, which has been lost, as well as the tremendous opportunity college presents in general, which is often squandered. 

I haven’t conducted any surveys, but I’ve heard a fair share of opinions and theories about Allen Hall in my years at Harding. Most who live in Allen proudly claim it as their home, and many of its house-dwelling former residents get misty-eyed at its mere mention. To them, it’s far more than their residence hall: It’s their Grand Hall, the place where some of their fondest Harding memories occurred. To others, Allen is simply a boisterous and smelly dorm where guys go to lose their GPAs and their collective dignity in exchange for a few embarrassing stories.

One of my first introductions to the world of art was watching “The Joy of Painting” with Bob Ross on PBS. Some of you may remember the mellow man with the afro who painted “happy trees,” always going from blank canvas to cheery landscape in 30 minutes. With his soft voice and light touch, he made art look easy. A sort of Monet-meets-Mister-Rogers-meets-Mister-Kotter, Bob Ross soothed a generation of viewers into thinking they, too, could paint.