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The Paragould Daily Press: Is Paid Content the Beginning of the End?

Every few days I read the Paragould Daily Press , my hometown newspaper—a newspaper I worked at as a sports writer for four years—online. I’m never looking for anything in particular. It’s just part of my routine: every morning I skim national, state, and local news for a few minutes. However, when I visited the PDP today, a few things were different. First, the website had been redesigned (and not in a good way—it takes talent to clutter what little content the PDP creates). More importantly, you now have to buy a subscription to read the paper online. This isn’t about having to pay for content (I’m sure the PDP has heard plenty of negative feedback from its online readers already); I understand what the PDP is attempting to accomplish with this move. The move to paid content was inevitable (I remember sitting in a staff meeting and discussing this very matter over five years ago when I was writing for the newspaper), as it will be and has been for much larger publications. Ne
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A Progress Report for January

Sometimes I sit around writing my own obituary in my head. It’s not that I plan on dying, or that I’m that old, but I just wonder what my legacy would be. If my family had to sum up my life to this point, I’m afraid there wouldn’t be a lot to say. Let’s highlight my first twenty-six years. I hit a game-winning shot against Nettleton—truly the type of shot you dream about as a kid shooting hoops in the driveway—to help Paragould High School make it to the state tournament in 2004 (this is the highlight of my short and mostly uneventful athletic career); I won the Citizenship Award my senior year, which my mother says is way more important than any academic or athletic award; I wrote for the Paragould Daily Press for four years, and I still have people say they miss my column (but you guys can quit lying to me already); I married a girl who is way more intelligent and athletic than I ever dreamed of being; I graduated from college, twice; and I have an adorable puppy that takes up all

It's Just a Little Puppy

There are a lot of things I said I  wouldn't  do in my life that  I've  done. I said that I  wouldn't  quit exercising regularly after I stopped playing sports, that I  wouldn't  be a hack writer all of my life, and that I  wouldn't  be working a part-time job at 27 with two useless college degrees. Luckily these are things I can still change. This weekend I will do something that I can’t undo. When my wife and I go home for Christmas, we will choose one of these four puppies: Having a dog  isn't  that big of a deal. Having a dog live IN my house is a big deal for me. You see, I like a neat and clean house. Being married and cleaning up after two people has required enough adjusting. A puppy living inside will challenge the very core of inner neat freak. I’m also allergic to a plethora of things. Dogs? I have no idea—I will find out shortly. With that in mind, here’s a list of things concerning my dog that I will NOT DO: 1. Let it live i

Three 90s TV Shows (and One Show Enters the Defining Debate)

I’ve long debated with myself whether  Saved by the Bell  or  Boy Meets World  is the defining show of my adolescent. This is an important question, one I will address in writing someday. However, while talking with a few friends last night, a forgotten show from my childhood entered the debate: Clarissa Explains It All. A quick synopsis of how our conversation made it to Melissa Joan Hart (xoxo). If I remember correctly, someone said, “Get it right.” For whatever reason that sparked my memory and I asked anyone if they knew where this line was from: “Now get it right or pay the price.” There was a brief pause, but it didn’t take long. (Sorry to rat you out, guys) Someone started singing from the beginning, “Camp Anawanna, we hold you in hearts…” Soon enough we were all singing along. In case you don’t have any idea what I’m talking about (and although I couldn’t blame you, I would pity your childhood), the aforementioned line is from the Nickelodeon show  Salute Your Shorts .

A Quarter-Life Crisis

I’m having a quarter-life crisis. It’s a real thing ( I think), and it’s becoming increasingly more relevant in our society as the stages of development continue to evolve—the stage of life between 18 and 25ish is now being called “arrested adulthood” or “emerging adulthood,” just to name a couple of theories. Children no longer leave home at 18 to find a job and start a family. Instead, after graduating high school, “pre-adults” (which is a stage that actually lasts longer, until 30 or so, according Kay Hymowitx) struggle with extended periods of schooling, relationships that have become convoluted because of technology, and an economy that makes it difficult to get started and find a path out of debt. Now we start our adult lives in our mid-to-late twenties, already cynical and disillusioned with the process. By the time we find a partner and a job, we immediately begin questioning if we’ve made the right choices. We ask ourselves if we wasted the last four (or seven or more) year

The Wrath of BP (and Attributing Information on Facebook)

Photo by Clinton Lewis, WKU photographer Kentucky, Tennessee, and Arkansas State have something in common: all three failed to hire Bobby Petrino as their next head football coach. By the way, UK, UT, and ASU might want to glance at their football schedules for next year. Guess who shows up on all three schedules? Bobby Petrino and his Western Kentucky Hilltoppers. I have a feeling that BP will have something specially prepared for each university that spurned him. Beware of September 7, 2013, Butch Jones. WKU makes a lot of sense for BP. He spent four years coaching in Kentucky at the University of Louisville—it was where he landed his first head coaching job and where he made a name for himself nationally. BP said in the press conference that he and his wife “consider this coming home,” but we know he’s full of it and will leave WKU as soon as he can (just ask ASU fans about coming home). My guess is that BP couldn’t turn down three chances at revenge (probably more li

Value Place: An Extended Stay Horror Story

(This is a story I should have shared long before now. Make sure you have some time to spare—this one is lengthy.) Two years ago my wife was accepted into a summer internship program at Arkansas Children’s Hospital. We were still living in Arkadelphia at the time, but my wife didn't want to spend the summer making the hour drive, fighting traffic to and from Little Rock. So we decided to live in Little Rock for the summer. However, in case you don’t know, it’s difficult finding a place to live for two months. Most rentals don’t have two-month leases. If they do, the price is either ridiculous or it’s a place you do not want to live. After looking for a couple of weeks, my wife found an extended stay hotel—Value Place—advertising for like $500 a month on Craigslist. A number of things. I didn't know anything about extended stay hotels—oh how I want to be naive about extended stays again, but more on this topic shortly. All I knew was that a flat rate of $500 a