About 10 years ago, I was working at a newspaper in a northeast Arkansas town. Given the nature of what I’m about to describe, I’ll refrain from identifying the place other than to say Joe Max Higgins knows exactly where it is.

One day, and this is a true story, a young bull escaped its farm and ran several miles into the busiest part of town, despite failed efforts by local police to capture it/turn it around. The bull then crossed two highways, evading more half-cocked attempts by law enforcement and a few drafted civilian volunteers to capture it. The bull eventually made its way into the Walgreens parking lot and backed up against a high concrete retaining wall. There, a police officer fatally shot the bull, and one of the civilian volunteers asked if he could have the carcass.

A nearby business owner filmed most of the action on his cell phone, including when the man who requested the carcass tied the felled bull to the trailer hitch of his pickup and dragged it away in that manner down a U.S. highway.

One could call this ordeal many things. In the most diplomatic terms, you might call it a “one-of-a-kind streetscape experience.”

When a Kimley Horn architect described Starkville’s plans to redesign Main Street, he used those same terms — vague enough to sound progressive, even edgy, while also covering all sins.

The working plan, as I understand it, includes such ideas as removing turning lanes and eliminating some parking spaces from the busiest sections of Main Street and providing a more pedestrian-friendly environment. There’s also some talk of a “one-way road plan.”

All of these things are meant to draw more people for events, shopping, etc., all of which are fine goals. It’s also meant to highlight Starkville as being a college town, therefore meeting the expectations of providing a certain vibe. Again, that’s cool.

Yet this plan seems to neglect a fact that should be apparent to all: Main Street, and stay with me here, is a street. It’s not a park or a plaza. It’s not a scooter track or the walking path around Chadwick Lake. One might argue that for it to be a successful street, cars have to be able to drive on it, and if said drivers want to shop at one of the stores there, they need to be able to park.

There’s nothing wrong with balancing pedestrian and bike/scooter access with a roadway in a safe manner that reasonably accommodates all of those modes. It’s another thing entirely when you clog an area so thoroughly with ancillary functionality that its original function is lost.

It would be a shame, for example, if people weren’t allowed to bring their toddlers to Cornerstone Park to watch their older siblings play ball. It would be equally bad if the toddlers were let, or even encouraged, to run rampant on the playing field during a game. Although, that would be a “one-of-a-kind fieldscape experience,” to be sure.

The architect Tuesday also referred to the Main Street plan as creating something “unique” in the Southeast. Another vague, inoffensive word that can mean many things.

For example, being eaten by a rabid Chihuahua is a unique way to die. It’s also a dumb way to die. That’s why it’s so rare.

Aldermen, Mayor Lynn Spruill and the architects routinely refer to trade-offs and balances when talking about projects like these. Those are certainly fair and reasonable terms, especially when you want to enhance or revitalize a busy part of a city. But if the drivers are doing all the giving, that’s not balanced.

I’d ask the mayor and aldermen to make sure efforts like these truly are balanced and that adequate driving and parking access are given their proper consideration.

Zack Plair is managing editor of The Dispatch. His email address is [email protected].

Zack Plair is the managing editor for The Dispatch.