Opinion
Wisdom
Kansan
Published daily since 1912
Julie Wood, Editor
Laura Roddy, Managing editor
Cory Graham, Managing editor
Tom Eblen, General manager, news adviser
Brandi Byram, Business manager
Shauntie Blue, Retail sales manager
Dan Simon, Sales and marketing adviser
Scott Valler, Technology coordinator
Wednesday, December 1, 1999
Seth Jones / KANSAN
Editorials
Kansan report card
PASS
- Technology fees — Student committee disperses hundreds of thousands of dollars to improve technology access on campus. Next year: GameBoys for everybody!
Professor endowment Former teacher donates $75,000 to establish Med Center radiology professorship.
Legal aid clinic — Third-year law students offer free legal advice to disadvantaged Lawrence residents. Toughest prospective case: Taco Bell v. Royford.
FAIL
Blue Grass — A thousand area doctors flee stingy HMO because of its treatment policies.
Student senate salaries — Former senator suggests senators should be financially compensated for their student government work. No.
Backwards Kansas counties — Kansas newspapers highlight the disparities in how counties respond to open records requests.
Possible cure for deadly disease shouldn't stop AIDS prevention
As the Campanile chimes 19 times at 1 p.m. today, think about how AIDS has affected the world.
The chiming is part of a nationwide bell-ringing project for World AIDS Day. The 19 chimes symbolize the 19 years that the United States has fought the epidemic. Many KU students never have known a world without AIDS, but now is not the time to cast it aside or get complacent.
The HIV virus infects 40,000 people a year, and half of those are under the age of 25. In spite of new treatments and medical advances, AIDS is still a deadly disease that we cannot afford to discount as easy to treat.
Ten years ago, media attention and compassion reached extraordinary
World AIDS Day reasserts that the epidemic still exists
levels. With new medical advances, people now are living with HIV like everyone else. So the public no longer sees the tragic image of AIDS victims, which can be dangerous. While HIV-infected people are living longer and able to live more normal lives, AIDS is still a terminal illness that has a tragic impact on lives.
ticing safer sex or abstaining and not using intravenous drugs — and we must continue these measures. The optimism of new treatments and an eventual cure should not take the place of prevention and common sense.
This disease is preventable. With the startling statistic of newly infected young people, it is crucial not to become lackadaisical. Most of us grew up learning how to stay safe — prac-
We encourage you to participate in today's activities. The Douglas County AIDS Project will have information tables in the Kansas Union and on Wesco Beach. At 5:30 p.m., the organization will sponsor a free public reception at the Spencer Museum of Art with quilt panels from the Names Project on display. And, First United Methodist Church, 946 Vermont St., will hold a public candlelight memorial at 7:45 p.m.
Kansan staff
Kursten Phelps for the editorial board
News editors
Chad Bettes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Editorial
Seth Hoffman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Associate editorial
Carl Kaminski . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Neues
Juan H. Heath . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Online
Chris Fickett . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sports
Brad Hallier . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Associate sports
Nadia Mustafa . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Campus
Heather Woodward . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Campus
Steph Brewer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Features
Dan Curry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Associate features
Matt Daugherty . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Photo
Kristi Ellott . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Design, graphics
T.J. Johnson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Wire
Melody Ard . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Special sections
Becky LaBranch . . . Special sections
Thad Crane . . . Campus
Will Baxter . . . Regional
Jon Schlitt . . . National
Danny Pumpelly . . . Online sales
Micah Kaftiz . . . Marketing
Emily Knowles . . . Production
Jenny Weaver . . . Production
Matt Thomas . . . Creative
Kelly Heffernan . . Classified
Juliana Moreira . . . Zone
Chad Hale . . . Zone
Brad Bolyard . . . Zone
Amy Miller . . . Zone
Advertising managers
Broaden your minds: Today's quote "It's not the size of the dog in the fight. It's the size of the fight in the dog." —Mark Twain
How to submit letters and quest columns
Letters: Should be double-spaced typed and fewer than 200 words. Letters must include the author's signature, name, address and telephone number plus class and hometown if a University student. Faculty or staff must identify their positions.
Guest columns: Should be double-
spaced type with fewer than 700 words.
The writer must be willing to be photo-
crophied for the column to run,
All letters and guest columns should be submitted to the Kansan newsroom, 111 Stuffer-Flint Hall. The Kansan reserves the right to edit, cut to length or reject all submissions. For any questions, call Chad Bottel or Seth Hoffman at 484-4924.
If you have general questions or comments, e-mail the page staff (opinion@kanson.com) or call B64-4924
Perspective
Officers, save small talk for those not in trouble
A new breed of police officer is patrolling the highways of Missouri. This officer cares about your life. This officer gives you your ticket with a smile.
Last Saturday I was driving home from the Kansas City airport when I let my cow-watch
unions City airport when guard down. It was sunny, I was happy to be off the plane, and New Order was blasting on the stereo. Conditions were perfect for speeding.
Usually I have eyes in the back of my head when I speed. While I allow myself to enjoy the sensation of flying along the open road, I never forget that cops lurk nearby. As soon as I saw those flashing lights, I realized I had forgotten this time.
Steph Brewer guest columnist gonion @ kusan.com
I'm a chronic speeder, but
Unfortunately, sheepish smiles don't go far when you drive 91 in a 70 mph zone. Before anyone condemns me as a reckless driver, I must say in my defense that there was no one in my lane. Of course, the officer didn't care about that or the fact that I was just so happy to be back in the Midwest that I had to speed home.
I usually escape the wrath of the traffic cops. Still, I know the drill. By the time the officer approached my window, I was ready, armed with license, registration, insurance and requisite sheepish smile.
What he did care about was my major in school, my accent and my holiday activities. He played 20 questions with me as I sat in his car. When he first asked me to go to his car with him, I thought I was being arrested. I've been arrested in Missouri before for a youthful indiscretion involving large quantities of Absolut Citron. It wasn't fun. I prayed that he wouldn't put me in handcuffs, because as I well know, handcuffs leave unsightly bruises on delicate
Then he studied my license. "Connecticut, huh?" Yep, that's what the license says. "Where in Connecticut? You don't have a Connecticut accent." I told him that I grew up in Pennsylvania. By this time, he knew more about me than my last boyfriend.
This banter was a bit odd, but his friendly attitude boosted my confidence. Maybe I would get off with a warning. I beamed at him to emphasize what a nice girl I was. It worked — to the tune of $25. He gave me a whopping $25 break on a $150 ticket.
How nice. I just love it when someone tells me, "You're a wonderful person. Now here's a $3 million ticket to brighten your day."
My friend Rachel recounted a similar story to me Sunday. She, too, still got a ticket. I appreciate the fact that Missouri police officers want to be our friends, but they have to realize that I'm not going to like anyone who causes major drainage of my bank account, no matter how interested he seems in the size of my town.
wrists.
Instead, the strangest thing happened. The officer started chatting with me. He asked me where I went to school, what year I was, and what my major was.
All the time I was engaged in that fruitless exchange with the cop hell-bent on making me pay. I could have been stewing in my car, listening to angry music and honking my horn obnoxiously in protest.
Police officers are scary. They have guns. Police cars are scary. They have cages. I prefer to keep my distance from both. I don't want to be friends with a boy in blue unless he is telling me. "I'll let you off this time."
So, as much as I enjoyed recounting my life story to Mr. Officer, next time I think I'd rather stay behind my own wheel.
Brewer is a Killingworth, Conn., senior in journalism and French. She is also the Kansan features editor.
Liquor store experiences will drive you to drink
have a problem with liquor stores.
I don't frequent them too often, and I don't have a drinking problem. But in the six months since I turned 21, I have personally boycotted three stores. If I maintain this pace for three years, I will have nowhere to buy liquor in Lawrence.
Most of this campus can sympathize with my situation, but local store owners obviously can't.
On a sunny Saturday afternoon in late April, I went to Myers Retail Liquor, 902 W. 23rd St.
I had passed before entering the store to allow an older, female customer to enter in front of me. Unfortunately, my attempt at chivalry backfired. When I stopped, I also put my right hand on the door jamb. As I entered the store, my hand staved put.
The end result: My right index finger was gashed.
As crimson began to spew from my digit, which needs to be in working order in a career such as mine, one cashier ran to the back to
Chris
Fickett
guest columnist
opinion@kasan.com
fetch a Band-Aid. The other cashier said, "Can you kinda watch that?" and motioned to the floor. I looked down and saw a few specks of blood. Oh, how rude of me.
As I tried to decode the omen that I shouldn't be buying booze, I must not have heard the voice inside me crying to sue the store owner. I should have paid more attention. My KU student insurance plan covered only $60 of the $400 emergency room bill.
After I brought my case of beer to the counter, the cashier asked for my identification. Even though my drivers' license is a current Kansas issue, he had to ask his manager, who had to consult "the book" to see if my ID was legitimate.
Strike one. Next stop: Cork & Barrel Wine and
Spirits. 2000 W. 23rd St.
After several scans, the manager said, "I don't know about this, but I'll let you slide this time," to which I replied, "Maybe I will take my business elsewhere."
The manager said, "Why don't you go to Mvers."
I already have. Strike two. Next stop: Diane's Liquor, 1806 Massachusetts St.
Last Saturday, I stopped by Diane's after buying some odds and ends at Dillons next door. It's not the greatest liquor store — way too small and overpriced — but it was convenient at the time.
I took my six-pack to the counter and a female cashier rang up the sale. An employee asked for my ID. "Do you have another form of ID?" he asked.
Well, of course I did — multiple in fact. There was the title and registration to my car, which was parked outside, my Social Security card, my KUID, my two VISA cards, oh, and my voter registration card, which I presented to the man behind the counter.
But he insisted on a form of ID with a photo and a date of birth. How foolish of me. After all, you know all about these fake-voter registration card rings in Lawrence.
I grabbed my money off the counter and announced that I was taking my business elsewhere. But it wasn't that easy. As I reached for my drivers' license off the counter, the man said, "Nope. I'm gonna keep this."
I thought about saying a lot of words that aren't printable in this column. Turns out the employee wanted to call an officer to verify my ID. I said I needed my license to drive home. He said, "With an ID like that; it wouldn't help you much anyway."
When the police arrived, I took satisfaction in the police radio: "Negative local; date of birth, four-five of '78."
Diane's goes down on a called third strike.
I should have bet the store owner that I was 21. He didn't even apologize. While we were waiting for the police, I asked him if he really thought that I was underage. He said yes.
Diane's advertisement in the Southwestern Bell Yellow Pages read, "We'll keep you in good spirits!" Maybe so, but it might take a more courteous staff to "keep you in business."
And a little note to all those budding entrepreneurs out there. Forget about starting a lucrative false-voter registration card business. Diane's will catch 'em every time.
Fickett is a Palos Heights, ill., senior in journalism. He is also the Kansan sports editor.
Feedback
Coach controversy should not be hidden
We are avid KU swim supporters. For that reason we were deeply saddened to learn of the apparent scandal which has recently broken out into the open.
We find it quite incredible that anyone wishing to get at the truth of the matter would solicit responses from current swim team members who have so much at stake and therefore so much to lose by letting the truth be known. It is actually cruel for anyone, including
4.
It is equally incredible that officials sincerely interested in corrective action would solicit responses from persons who are not ex-team members or ex-assistant coaches. The truth can only be had from those who have worked with this team and the person whose coaching tactics have been challenged. We think this should be quite plain to anyone who is truly interested to get at core of the problem.
the coach, to solicit such responses.
It has taken courage and a special love for the KU swim
program to bring this matter out into the open. Just as the program's past has apparently been negatively impacted by this matter, so too the program's future must take seriously the testimony of ex-team members and ex-assistant coaches.
An investigation, in secret and behind closed doors, is transparently political and smacks of a good ol' boys club with absolutely no intention of doing justice to the past, present or future KU swim program.
Frank and Marie Kramer