Opinion
Page 4
University Daliy Kansan July 27. 1981
Press neglects responsibility to public
The Kansas City Times reported last week that the roof of the Hyatt Hotel had collapsed once during its construction. The collapse was never reported in the papers. Countless inches, reporters and resources have been devoted to the coverage of the Hyatt's recent tragedy, but the first indication that the Hyatt might have been faultily constructed never made even the back page.
It's impossible to speculate if the press's failure to uncover early structural flaws could have alerted the public to possible dangers in the Hyatt's construction, but it is certainly a press failing that the local panthers never reported the cave-in.
Last week the press belatedly informed the public that President Reagan was more seriously ill following his gunshot wounds than the press originally reported.
Reagan is now said to have suffered high fevers and lung disorders that made some doctors contemplate removing his one damaged lung.
The photos showing the smiling Reagans in the hospital days after the assassination attempt were cropped to eliminate the nurse who was carrying pulmonary equipment. Although the president had been leaning on the nurse for support, the photo shows him robust enough to stand alone.
printed two special Sunday sections and the inches mount daily.
It's not that the press can't cover the big stories. We have witnessed a media bizzard on every conceivable detail about the Hvatt disaster. The Times has already
Locally the only thing completing with the Hyatt coverage is the press's attention to the royal wedding. Details have flowed and nauseum. Reporters have converged on London to cover the fantasy, romance and escapism contained in the marriage of England's future king.
Joan Didion, noted author and journalist once commented that journalists are always selling somebody out. She was warning future interviewwes that a reporter, looking for an angle, a story, could use and abuse sources.
Didion's caution could be directed toward the public. Recent coverage of fanciful and neglectful coverage of the essentials suggest that at times the press is really selling out the public.
College offers alternative to slopping hogs
My father has often told me that if this college and career stuff doesn't work out, I can always come home to stop the hogs. Sometimes that option has been tempting, especially when I made the transition from the farm to the university.
College was to begin a new life for me. Having spent my high school years in apathy and with
Judy Crawford
the ever present opportunity of fleeing to a peaceful pasture when school pressures were too great, I determined that I would start caring about life when I got to KU.
KU wasn't exactly a promising new world. I wrote at that time: "This seems to be a very sad place, despite attempts otherwise. The more knowledge you have, the more you realize how worthless the pursuit of it is. People are nice here, but really no one cares for the individual, meaning me this time. My should I have never left home, but it's best what I did. I'm experiencing all this for some reason, beats me what it is."
While I experienced the ideas of German philosophers, vestigeal-winged fruit files and the hazards of dorm life what sustained me was a sense of urgency. I became concerned about the condition of my heart than
the numerical value of my G.P.A. 3.98 or 1.14, it really didn't matter much.
I prayed for a big mouth. I received a big mouth. My dad said, "God didn't let me express that. Too bad. He didn't."
And there was that old dream of bringing honor to my family by becoming a doctor. And of course everyone thought that idea was quite wonderful. Little lady as a doctor. How cute.
I wasn't so sure. But when I went to my medical school interview, the professor said that I was a bad student and that I was bad.
They felt I didn't know much about the real world. And when he letter of rejection came, "I'll never forget my father's reaction—"Those sum!" Surr. Haddy, Daddy.
I whimpered for half an hour. Once my Mom patted my shoulder and said, "There's lots of ice cream."
But Mom was right. So I continue to live in the real world as I see it. Still, I have to face the numerous relatives and friends who worriredly ask me, "Oh, I hope you haven't given up on medicine." Of course not. But the last thing we need is a doctor who really doesn't want to be a doctor or who has very little idea what a doctor runs around doing. We would have been accepted this time around. Those people on the selection committee made the right decision. I would be miserable had they said "Yes." Thanks, guys. You did me a BIG favor.
So while I'll contemplating such matters, I think I'll see what journalism is like. I don't know much about that, either, but it's been a true challenge to write this column and to learn from my mistakes.
As I learn more about how to write, I may even become, goodness sakes, a journalist. Or maybe a house painter. Or a demented English teacher.
American youth embrace new trend Blitz fashion adds class to punk look
MICHAEL GEBERT Guest Editorialist
Dear Borks.
As you are back in our native land, no doubt cooking up some nefarious plot with our Fearless Leader. I will keep you informed of the latest trends of the youth of America.
How the times here at Wassamma U. have changed! You will recall how the punk and New Wave movements came and went here without a word. But I don't know dancing to disco or acting what they call "mellow." Of course, there were some who listened to, or even acted New Wavish though they were few. But there's a new trend in New Wave darling, and I think this could be the big one.
It's called Bitz, Boris, or at least that's what Rolling Stone called it. Actually, the first I heard of it in a national magazine was in Esquire; they did a piece on New Wave, and the reply came back that it was the new thing is the New Romance. Now Rolling Stone, which is getting closer all the time to Paul McCartney's famous statement that, "All this punk music, I don't understand it but I guess it's okay for the younger people," has discovered it too, under the name Bitz, though on the student paper, he wrote: "It's not the pronounce that, 'Most people prefer the name Futurism,' or even 'The Cult with No Name.'"
Here is what Rolling Stone said about Steve Briarage, a young man who wanked. I guess, to the extent that he did, it's still funny.
And what, you may ask, Boris darling, is the future in futurism? So far as I can tell, it's looking like David Bowie in 1974, or Audrey Hepburn in 1945, or Rudolf Valentino in 1924, if you're really daring. Elite seems to have very little to do with music, or even narcotics, let alone politics—it's about dressing up. Trying to look your best. And weirdest.
new set or photos (for the glamor magazines), let is taken, he immediately dumps the look . . . His chief problem . . . is keeping ahead of his fans and imitators." A clue to the whole things is in Midge Ure, of the band Vain, said about going out with female punk types vs. going out alone. You have to step on one foot next to one of those things in the morning . . . but then you'd go to the Blitz . . . and it's like a big difference when you wake up next to Marilyn Monroe. It's like, 'Hey! Hello!'
Here's the thing; they all look as weird as the punks, sure. But at the same time, class. There is undoubtedly more panache in looking like the Scarlet Pimpernel than like Scarlet Fever. And that's why I think Bilt might be one-Gloria Vanderbilt couldn't have sold ripped T-shirts, but Bilt fashion is perfect for that kind of capitalist exploitation, as we know all too well. Boris. No American mother will flirt with Marie Antoinette. For that matter, Moms and Dads; wanting to feel young, will flock to the Bilt dischottesque as well, just as they went to the discos. (It is no coincidence that Blitz, like disco, originated in homosexual nightspots—though the Bee Geees didn't point that out, and I doubt Adam and the Ants will, either.)
"I know don't for sure that Blitz will go big, but the potential is there. It will have to be cleaned up some; they'll get rid of names like Spandau Ballet and Linda Rossdahl (now somehow) record Ultravox songs. Time will do story in a way," says Vogue is probably already working on it.
It's its natural; parents will like it because it's nothreatening and more normal than the safety-pin look, and kids will like it because it's happiness and romantic. Dress up, dance and be merry. For tomorrow, youth of America, we will bury you.
Give my regards to Fearless Leader.
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Or a health food cook. Or a professional fisherman.
Or I could always go back to the farm to slop the hogs. I won't.
By JEFF THOMAS
Guest Editorialist
Two KU students—Randy Armstrong, Overland Park junior, and Kim Benton, Denver sophomore—were forced to leave the Jayhawk Cafe bar, 1340 Ohio St., last Saturday night after several patrons complained of few and indoor conduct, bar manager Harold L. Stewart said
Private relationships are a personal choice
"I was leaining with my back against the bar facing the booths across the room and I know I saw him hold her hand on top of the table-in" said Diana, "10 minutes," said one patron who complained.
After "a handful of people told me to do something or they would," Stewart asked the couple to leave, he said. Armstrong resisted and tried to have the arm through clapping and leering customers.
An incredibly prudish tale but, thanks to our lusty good sense, hardly true.
Especially in the case of a new couple, a hand resting lightly on the other person's waist is a quiet signal of their feelings to those around, who respond with a respect for the relationship.
Romance is a social ritual. Touching in public is expected as an honest and spontaneous expression.
So we sometimes hold hands and that's good.
So what?
The what is this? Imagine the bar scene again, but replace Kim with Steve. The two men's hands are bound a slowly gathering wave of hands comingave tables to hold another naturally, at ease.
All people deserve to be prepared for what they will see and hear from people already moving through their lives who will some day be known to be gay.
Discovering that a person has a less-common sexual preference shouldn't dissolve past experiences with him any more than discovering his taste for fried zucchini would. Subtracting a gay person from our lives only leaves less for everyone.
The gay person retains all the characteristics that led others to respect, love, dislike or deride him. He is the same person—plus We need to learn a new kind of addition; instead of canceled, we add an extra character to broaden our understanding of him, adding the new element to the set called 'an individual.'
So, here are some thoughts on a new math of human acceptance brought together in brief (fortwo)
As sure as the world turns, we've all been thrown the daily pitch for the everlasting Adam-
Parents taught us not to hit girls, but also not to let boys push us up around. If we had to, we were afraid to do it.
In grade school we followed Dick, Jane and their furry creatures through all that running, explicitly limited to reading situations that contained only one person of each sex.
we sat mesmerized in the family room through "Gunsmoke," "The Lone Ranger," "Batman" and "Star Trek." There were years spent watching, training, and preparing for men time together, father and son figures furthering goodness with no than five "bops" and "bans" per criminal, and the death grip.
All put together, something like what happens in an individual's life, the message formed: If men touch each other with intense emotion, they touch with white-knuckled fists. Men can reach out to women in tender caring, but on this side of the table, women serving themselves, men compete without compassion.
Part of being a responsible gay person is learning to move with a man instead of against him, a challenge in intellectual and emotional courage. While heterosexual couples are given a pre-packaged framework for the proper couple, they also face the challenge of legal relationship possible for them, their living arrangements at different points in the relationship and the role of their parents, such automatic answers aren't available to gay couples. It isn't that straight couples can't get along with gay couples, but they relationship; many do. The point is that gay couples don't have a model to begin with.
Still, that lack of guidance gives gay people an opportunity to consciously fill in the gaps. Gay people are left to write the contracts for their relationships with open terms, including the basis and nature of the relationship in the absence of marriage, definitions of fidelity and, too often, choices between visible relationships and parents, jobs and long-time friends.
Still, taking off a few steps earlier to assess a relationship can pay off by giving us more highly satisfied people, individuals more sure of themselves and what they want out of life.
New math or old, one plus one still equals two.
Only choice is how well we are going to understand.
Jeff Thomas is a senior at KU, majoring in journalism.
Hyatt disaster significant beyond death count
By DAVID MILQ WEED
Guest Editorialist
Disasters evoke strange reactions in people. When I flipped on the television Friday night and caught the end of a news bulletin that announced that 27 were dead at the Hyatt Regency Hotel in Kansas City, my reaction was a straining curiosity to find out what had happened.
Another hotel fire? Another stumpede of bodies rushing from the hotel which left the slower and weaker trampled underfoot? Another lunatic with a gun?
After I found out that two catwalks in the hotel lobby had fallen into the crowded Friday night tea dance. I stayed glued to the television as the wreckage pulled from the wreckage into the clambers of the
The next morning, I searched the television and radio stations for more information, knowing that the only new fact would be how many more people were killed. The death toll was over 100, and I began searching the dead and injured lists in the newspapers for familiar names.
Relieved at finding none, I went about my business, and the tragedy slipped from my mind. But whenever I saw a friend whom I hadn't seen since Friday night, the topic came up in conversation. The fellow who lives down the street began talking about it. I stood in his kitchen with a perplexed look on my face as he told me how wonderful he thought the disaster was.
It made a great story, he said. Disasters such as the cave-in of the Kemper Arena roof were no fun, he said, because the buildings were empty at the time.
I tried to explain to him that it was no fun being killed by tons of falling concrete and steel, but he said that it was a lot better than the lingering deaths of most people.
I sent his apartment shaking my head and wondering how someone could be happy about almost 300 dead and injured people. My girlfriend explained later that he didn't think he was being insensitive, because he had new jobs and new bodies. If we could all believe as he does, we'd certainly be shielded from the horror of hearing about people who die torturous and painful deaths.
The guy who lives in the basement came upstairs Sunday night to return my tennis racket, and he hadn't heard about the accident. He read the story of his friend, Michael, in section of Sunday's Kangas City Star, then threw
Another perplexed look from me. It's just numbers, he said. What did the number 111 mean to him? After all, he said, 40,000 people were sick last week in China in floods. Another number.
the newspaper back on the table. Disasters didn't interest him, he said.
He returned to the basement, seemingly oblivious of the fact that the numbers 111 and 40,000 denote individuals who died and left other individuals who loved and cared about them. If we could all only see the numbers, and not the individuals, we'd be shielded from worrying and caring about those who died and those who knew them.
In planning or constructing the Hyatt Regency, someone made a mistake. Perhaps it was an architect who was "almost" sure the catwalk would withstand dense traffic, or a construction worker who figured that making little shortcuts here and there wouldn't affect the
strength of the structure. It's always "someone" who makes the mistake.
During the Crimean War, in 1854, 600 Englishmen were given the insane order to charge into enemy walls, a charge they knew must detain death. Less than a third of them returned.
Alfred Lord Tennyson commented in his poem,
"The Charge of the Light Brigade," that "Some one had blunder'd."
Someone blundered the Hyatt Regency. Perhaps a definite cause won't be found, and the construction companies and architects can blame each other and absolve themselves of guilt. Or they can say it was a fake accident, or they can say it was their bear weight of more than 100 lives on his shoulders. And then we can always dismiss the catastrophe and say it really doesn't matter.
After all, they'll all get new bodies, and the final count will only be a number.
Letters to the Editor Adoption better choice than abortion
To the Editor:
My views on abortion are irrelevant. As it happens I am a moderate, believing that abortion is acceptable, though regrettable, in cases of rape, incest, fetal abnormality and threat to maternal life, and that it is outrageous when performed on demand for convenience. But I must correct the false information about me by writing my abortion article on Monday's front page.
Linda Woody, Kansas NOW coordinator,
doesn't know what she's talking about when she says that "the white male child is the only child there is an adoption demand for."
Any adoptive parent, any would-be adoptive parent and any adoptive social worker can attest that Woody's statement is hogwash. Any normal, American child may be adopted in high demand, white, Mexican or Oriental—in high demand.
Children with minor health defects are not considered hard to place. Unfortunately, black and black/white children, older children, children with severe medical problems and sibling groups are still difficult to place in adoptive homes.
As for anonymous KU student "Kelly" and her
claim that giving up a child for adoption would have been harder for her than her abortion, well, no one ever said that doing the right thing was always supposed to be easy. It's hard for young couples who can't conceive a baby through no fault of their own and who can't get on an adoption waiting list nowadays, even harder when they think of the wanted, healthy babies who were killed off because it was easier for the woman carrying them.
As the mother of two, beautiful, wanted, intelligent, adopted children, I feel the need to speak out strongly on adoption vs. abortion. So long as they were not conceived by means of IVF, they are protected from being denied did not threaten the lives of their biological mothers, my children—unique, unduplicable individuals—have a right to their lives, a right that supersedes any woman's right to convenience and ease. There are long, long waiting lists of would-be parents not known to willing to adopt the babies being destroyed daily, and not only white males, by any means.
Nan C. Scott,
Lecturer in English