There have been winners and losers as the shuffle for the alcohol dollar has unfolded in the region.
The landscape has transformed dramatically in a handful of years, with more changes on the way. Some predicted grave consequences when beer, wine and even hard alcohol outlets began popping up-with voter approval-in places that were perennially considered dry. But, as with many things, after the new wears off, people get acclimated to the idea, and it all blends into the community wallpaper.
In many ways, it doesn't seem as much a transformation as a reconciliation. In the course of a few years, we threw off the veil, changed our wardrobe and acknowledged we were pretty much like any other town along America's highways.
It was a long time coming, and not without challenges and confrontations.
If you missed it, Karl Richter's special report "Shifting Spirits" in the Friday and Saturday editions is worth a read. It delineates many of the changes we have seen within the region as a result of alcohol expansion. Some have been subtle, some not so much, and a few rather unexpected.
Once, Texarkana, Ark., had almost all these eggs in its basket. Now, there are eggs everywhere.
Obvious winners: Cities that added this revenue stream, convenience, equalization of alcohol spending and fairer distribution of the proceeds, related city improvements, jobs, those who intend to take this expansion a step further.
Obvious losers: Texarkana, Ark., which lost its monopoly; eye fatigue from the abundance of signs, slogans and displays tied into this commercialism; a sense, though debatable, that Texarkana is no longer as safe; cities that got a bigger piece of the pie through this expansion, only to find nearby towns exercising the same option and taking big bites out of the original portion; those who understand that a series of small steps eventually lead to a new vista, uninspiring and unwanted as it may be.
Some would define winners and losers differently. Dry, of course, is a relative concept. Many a draft is drawn in restaurants, bars and homes in jurisdictions that have restrictions against picking up a six-pack or bottle of wine and carting it home. Millions of dollars were spent this way long before the so-called alcohol expansion.
It's all relative in a relatively reliable way, and all subject to change, including new incursions.
Last week, for example, we learned how the regional landscape might be changing again, thanks to the medical marijuana trade, which Arkansans voted in last election. The Arkansas-side Board of Directors got its first public overview of how these businesses would be regulated in the city. It's coming, and quickly. Big decisions ahead.
Just a few years ago, we were beating each other up about beer, in convenience stores, on our street corners. Shortly, we will almost assuredly have several medical pot dispensaries in town. The important distinction, of course, is "medical." But a lot of people won't see it that way.
Some suggest Texarkana, Ark., is a prime location because of nearby markets that are currently closed, specifically Louisiana, Texas and Oklahoma. Investors are apparently looking beyond our borders, beyond the immediate.
Based on the number of calls to City Hall by potential investors seeking information about applications, there seems to be an undeniable readiness to bankroll these startup endeavors, and even to be first in line.
Even The Cannabist, a website about the pot culture, had a headline advising "The country's next medical marijuana hotbed could be Texarkana?" Several national news outlets found this development interesting enough to pass on.
"When one door closes, another opens," inventor Alexander Graham Bell said long ago.
Maybe he was onto something.
It's funny how this new opportunity is now emerging on the backside of the regional redistribution of alcohol dollars that hurt Texarkana, Ark. Not quite the same, true; not in direct competition, likewise true; but not altogether different, either.
Another type of player will soon burst onto the scene-medically speaking, of course-and will own a ready-made monopoly.
Which leads to the question: The devil you know? The devil you don't?