The culture of Arkansas

Iinadvertently and fortuitously dialed state Rep. Andy Davis of Little Rock last week. He’s the one proposing that we re-designate in law all four stars on the state flag—not just the Confederacy-honoring one—to make them representative of Arkansas principles or themes rather than nations or rebellions that ruled or governed or besmirched us.

He texted to ask if I had intended to call him. I said no. He replied that, by the way, he was now thinking “culture” instead of “heritage.”

The creative process thus was afoot. Feel free to join in.

Our state flag belongs to all of us, or will as soon as we get the disgraced Confederacy and Jim Crow racism removed from homage upon it. We have until the next regular session in two years to brainstorm toward the four best new representations for those stars.

I don’t forgive Davis, by the way, for failing to vote in committee for the simple bill to remove the Confederacy commemoration of that one star.

He hasn’t sought forgiveness. I’m choosing to go forward. I’m trying to be

… you know … positive.

Davis told Talk Business on Sunday that changing the flag symbolism was a “Crock-Pot issue.” He meant slow-cooking. It seems to me rejecting slavery and rebellion ought to be a microwave issue. I mean zapped in seconds. But the proof will be in the stew.

Davis was essentially telling me that he was putting “heritage,” one of his four original nominations, on the chopping block. I have heard from left-leaning people—and it’s their state, too—that “heritage” is code for the state’s history of slavery and the Confederacy and Jim Crow.

I called “culture” an improvement, though left-leaners can always say— and they’d be right—that the state’s culture is and has been racist. Alas, culture is a kissing cousin of heritage.

But some left-leaners can be more righteous than is necessary. Again, for the umpteenth time, let’s not make the perfect the enemy of the good.

Saying we should not honor the culture of Arkansas because of the racism … that’s a broad brush when what we’re needing to paint is a highly detailed mural.

Arkansas culture can be a high school football game on Friday night, a honky-tonk on Saturday night and church services bright and early Sunday morning.

It’s an all-day singing and dinner on the ground after church, for the day of “decoration” at the cemetery next to the church house. There are three essential potluck offerings on such occasions—fried chicken, potato salad and banana pudding with vanilla wafers.

It’s running the baying hounds through the woods at night while lying on your back on the hood of your pickup gazing on the moon through the bottom of a whisky bottle. Or so I’m told.

It’s the two things a Texan once told me Arkansas was good for—waterskiing and, to clean it up, lovemaking.

It’s a federal courtroom in Little Rock. Legendary civil rights lawyer John Walker cross-examines legendary athletic director Frank Broyles, with Walker representing legendary basketball coach Nolan Richardson and Broyles represented by legendary Phil Kaplan. And all of that is happening before a federal judge called “Mule” because he owns a bunch of them … mules, I mean.

It’s mountain music and gospel and blues blended into what became rock ’n’ roll.

And it is hosing pollen off your front porch in late April to restore the original black beneath the seasonal yellow. It’s wielding a garden hose with one hand and pondering the state flag’s symbolism with a state legislator via texting with the other.

I’ve objected to Davis’ nomination of “innovation,” believing that to be marketing pablum rather than truly reflective of the state. Davis may or may not be giving up that one, but he suggested “service.”

Young men from Arkansas—and women more recently—have disproportionately borne the combat burden of this nation’s wars. That’s not a complaint. It’s a boast, actually, seeming flag-worthy.

Arkansas people serve in countless other ways. Go to a funeral at a rural Arkansas church and enjoy the service of women of the congregation who, mostly, provide the meal, which, as it happens, brings us back to fried chicken, potato salad and banana pudding with vanilla wafers.

Things begin to tie together when you get the mural right.

At the moment, then, and subject to collaborative genius that might emerge, Davis seems to be leaning to opportunity, nature, culture and service.

Opportunity is less in Arkansas than it ought to be. But it’s here. Consider Sam Walton and Witt Stephens.

But opportunity means more than billionaire-making. It can mean having a couple of teachers who recognize and nurture your one talent— or obsession—and a local Pulitzer Prize-winning newspaper that hires you.

Nature? For that, I need only to refer you to the naturalness that the smart-aleck Texan said Arkansas was good for.