OPINION | MIKE MASTERSON: Not smiling now

I hope the world-famous Gravette-area resident who forced his way into the Capitol alongside a couple of hundred others on Jan. 6 feels his moment of fame was worth the enjoyment he's about to face in a courtroom and beyond.

Now come the consequences to his behavior; ah, those dratted, inevitable consequences always lurking just ahead of poor choices.

Richard M. "Bigo" Barnett, 60, made his way into the Speaker of the House's office and headlines as a friend photographed him plopped down, smiling, with both feet propped firmly upon a desk.

That bone-headed move must have seemed like grand fun indeed for several minutes. But now, I doubt he's still reveling, or smiling even faintly, to learn he faces up to 10 years behind bars and more than $350,000 in fines if convicted of three charges filed against him in federal court.

It would have been bad enough for Barnett, who initially faced a potential one-year-sentence until Capitol police learned he'd been armed with a collapsible 950,000-volt stun gun.

The inexcusable rioting inside our Capitol made dubious history while achieving absolutely zilch in the long run, except to generate scores of criminal charges and incarcerate those who chose to become violent. The melee struck me as a planned assault by a specific segment of maybe a couple hundred people of the thousands who showed up to protest certification of the nation's congressional electors.

While I'm condemning Barnett's actions and those who joined that assault, I'm also appalled and disturbed by the looting, arson, beatings, killings, destruction of public property and anarchy inflicted on innocent business owners, police officers and citizens during rioting throughout our major cities last summer.

Those violent behaviors weren't constitutionally protected "protests" if you also believe in the rule of law as opposed to the appeasement of political favoritism. Criminal behavior is exactly that in our democratic republic of laws and must consistently be dealt equally and fairly, regardless of political ideology.

Joy-boy Benji

Time again to update the status on the life and times of our now 9-pound pound pooch, Benji. The little golden boy with a white fly-away pompadour continues to keep us smiling and belly laughing with his behavior.

We've learned after 10 months to read his mind through his curly tail that waves like a tell-tale flag.

For instance, I can tell if he likes something a little from two or three twitches. As his level of happiness and pleasure increases, that almost bushy tail begins to flip back and forth repeatedly along with swirling in little circles.

As the months have ticked away, he's become fully comfortable with Jeanetta and I. It's comical to see him look over at her when he's sitting with me and feel it's time to offer his comfort to her. So he leaps down and heads to her recliner for an hour or so, then back to me after staring in my direction.

Seems joy-boy Benji is an equal-opportunity dispenser of affection and company.

Lately, Jeanetta's become concerned he may not be eating the way she believes he should. I may bear some responsibility for that, considering it's not unusual to occasionally slip him one of those tasty Pup-Peroni snacks. Well, that's not quite true since my secretive snacks may arrive more than occasionally.

I read once that the only thing dogs enjoy more than people is the company of other dogs. Truer words were never offered when it comes to this pooch. He's never happier than when friends or relatives drop by with their dogs in tow. Benji immediately heads for the backyard to sprint in circles in a plea to be chased.

Playing with his species makes him smile. He could romp for hours nonstop and usually winds up exhausting his furry visitors. His preferred style of play is to twist, leap, crawl, sprint, roll over several times and flop his rear end around as a blocking tactic. Wears me out just admiring his energy.

Never mean-spirited, ol' Benji (aka Benji boo) just wants to have fun.

When Jeanetta's daughter Kenda visits with her three dogs, Benji immediately becomes what we call "The Sheriff," as evidenced by his black pull-on sweater with that designation. With the backyard fenced, all it takes for him to lead his posse in barking, howling and whining is to hear the distant wailing of neighborhood dogs. One distant howl means he and the posse are bow-wow bent on enforcing mindless overreaction.

He's lately started showering both of us with loving kisses. I interpret that as a sign of just how grateful he's come to realize where he was 10 months ago when compared with today.

Over months of covid seclusion together, this once flea-ridden, frightened little fella with two-inch nails we adopted from the Boone County Humane Society last February has been the savior for our sanity and facilitator of belly laughs. Looks like thus far the feeling is mutual.

Now go out into the world and treat everyone you meet exactly how you'd like them to treat you.

--–––––v–––––--

Mike Masterson is a longtime Arkansas journalist, was editor of three Arkansas dailies and headed the master's journalism program at Ohio State University. Email him at mmasterson@arkansasonline.com.

Upcoming Events