The Observer

When savored in isolation, my favorite condiment had an awful, mouth-twisting aftertaste like rubbing alcohol. I sampled it over and over again, expecting the intruder to go away, but it didn’t. What was up?

A collection of New Year's resolutions from deputy Observers.

On The Observer’s second day of work at the Arkansas Times, while still clueless about such necessities as the location of the office bathroom, I was tasked with covering something called Young Storytellers, which sounded innocuous enough. However, what was quickly revealed by The Observer’s boss, through a grin so tiny it almost didn’t register as mischievous, was that this would be an immersive — nay, participatory — opportunity.

There’s something about a first job that makes an imprint on the memory. Some go the traditional route of babysitting, or wash dishes at a local restaurant. But The Observer thinks back on fond days of brisk autumnal nights at a Southwest Missouri corn maze.

Observer and I hit the road recently for a late summer vacation that we could have used about two months earlier. Trips for June and July were unexpectedly canceled and we were left wiling away most of the summer in scorching hot Arkansas waiting for our time to get away. 

Mr. Meowington rules the roost.

A quiet cooling on the airwaves

If your internet goes out, as The Observer’s did recently, it’s likely the cyberattack comes not from the Russians, but from forces much closer to home. That was the case in the Kingwood neighborhood in early June, when a cluster of five houses suffered the extremely First World problem of a temporary lack of access to Netflix. 

Doing Mirena math.

At the intersection, but not intersectional.

The hole gang bailed, but The Observer persisted to provide you with this review.

Winter-pale and world-weary from clawing our way through a Greek alphabet of virus variants, The Observer has learned a thing or two about thriving online during The End Times, and we’re happy to share the wealth. 

What is the opposite of nostalgia? Camper, we found it.

For our November magazine cover story, we asked various experts to gaze into the crystal ball and predict what life in the Little Rock metro area will look like in 2050. Stay tuned for that. In the meantime, here's something to play with.

A rooftop birthday in the spa city.

In a normal year, The Observer turns things down a notch in the summer, moving a little slower and not getting up too much during the heat of the day. Summer in Arkansas sure ain’t no time to be working for a living. We do as little as possible of that while the heat is on. We still, however, crave entertainment in the Dog Days. Given that, we thought we’d share a few suggestions.

The Observer has been a little concerned about all the construction going on in our fair city and beyond of late. Well, “concerned” is a bit much, we guess. How about “miffed”?

Whether because of where The Observatory is located — though we haven’t noticed any new canneries or fish markets springing up along Maple Street — or because some felines live to make a nuisance of themselves, The Observatory has been besieged by alleycats of late.

At 9:21 a.m. on a Tuesday in the middle of February — Fat Tuesday, actually — The Observer took the trash out.

The Observer has long been an America junkie. We don’t buy dumb T-shirts or American Flag swim trunks or bumper stickers that say “Love It or Leave It,” but we swear to you that we would, this moment, give our life for this country if our democracy was threatened, because that is what it takes sometimes.