In summation of the year of our Lord 2010: There were many tragedies–economic, moral, political and other ornery and unanticipated events, custom-designed to undermine society as it exists today.

Well, by Panola and the ‘Optimist Society,’ Mosquitoville and Moccasin Bend and county lines and points in between, the best laid plans of rats and politicians (mice and men?) must be analyzed or ignored for the betterment of society.

Truthfully this might benefit some historian or other digger of antiquities someday, but all we can do now is roll with the flow.

I suffered the loss of my Arkansas snake wrangler “Jeff” who raised hell, hawgs and children.

On the upside, the Tigers are number one in the nation, Mrs. Sherry Hopkins and her beloved Don continue to entertain all and sundry, and Taylor Ivy has kept me grinning with her act of juggling a column and an education. (Hopkins and Ivy also write columns for The Panolian.)

And speaking of juggling, the two football games I watched on New Year’s Day, Mississippi State versus Michigan and Alabama versus Michigan State, resulted in Mississippi State winning, 52-14 and Alabama winning, 49-7. That indicates that the South has risen again.

Since January 1 is my birthday, I want to say I couldn’t have had a better birthday present, as Ms. Rita would say (and did) “Damn Yankees, serves ‘em right, Richard.”

My album, “Mississippi Redneck,” is scheduled for release sometime in February and we plan to celebrate suitably under adult supervision at a location to be announced. And the general public is invited to the carnage.

This is a mixed blessing because if it turns a profit I will have to pay taxes, but if it flops I will at least be able to suffer along with the second hangover of the year.

January 14 will mark the anniversary of this narrative of life in Mississippi. It couldn’t have made it this far without the support of the readers of The Panolian and the staff of this publication, not to mention the overtime put in by Ms. Rita Brooks, Rita Howell and Rupert and John, who have managed to decipher my chicken scratches and make them actually resemble what I meant to say in the first place.

They built the pencil backwards for my style of writing and spelling. It should have been one inch of pencil for every 10 inches of eraser.

You can ask Ricky Swindle at Batesville Tire and Muffler and he will verify that I have dumped enough recycling pencil rubber on him to re-shoe a small truck over the past year and that was just what was left over after my carpet-creeping granddaughter Lexi got penned up.

It looks like she will probably never learn to walk. Bless her, she could crawl and then she could run and now she can dance but she has yet to take a walking step that anyone has noticed.

I got to see The Panolian’s press in action a week or two ago and it is awesome. It reminded me of a cross between a machine gun and a cotton gin.

That the pressmen still have a few toes and fingers left is a wonder.

Happy 2011, y’all.

Ricky Harpole