Not the end of the line
After reading recent reports from the Ol' Editor on this page, some folks came to a quick conclusion that it's the end of the line for Malarkey. Some responded saying they will miss it while others openly rejoiced.
Well, gentle reader, it's not quite as conclusive as all that. Though this is not the end of the line, you can see it from here.
We remember the birthday 55 years ago when a young reporter came to town driving a 1938 Ford convertible club coupe. It was solid black with white canvas top and wide whitewalls, two chrome plated spot lights, leather upholstery, a Columbia rear end, V-8 power plant, and would be worth a small fortune today. It was paid for, too. But a later model Plymouth coupe soon changed that. Why would anybody trade a paid-for classic for such a modest set of mortgaged wheels? (That was the first but not the last mistake the OE made in Marion.)
It was the young reporter's birthday, as is today, and he was ready to set his mark in the world. He had no intention of staying in Marion. His desire was to go to bigger and better things.
After 55 years your more mature OE realizes there were bigger but probably not better things.
One wonders what would have happened had he not stayed in Marion. There were opportunities, some were in the field of public relations, others in social welfare work, and a few offers came from other newspapers.
The Malarkey column has been a personal effort over the years, leaving opinion and serious stuff to signed editorials. This week is an exception to that rule.
— BILL MEYER
