Opinion
Kansan
Published daily since 1912
4A
Lindsay Henry, Editor Marc Harrell, Business manager Dave Moranta, Managing editor Colleen Eager, Retail sales manager Kristie Blasi, Managing editor Dan Simon, Sales and marketing adviser Tom Eblen, General manager, news adviser Justin Knupp, Technology coordinator
Tuesday, April 28, 1998
CHICAGO TRIBUNE
Editorials
Campus safety, safewalk program need student effort, involvement
During the past few years, the city of Lawrence and the University of Kansas have done many things to help create a safe campus and community. Programs such as SafeRide, KU on Wheels and the Campus Lighting Project all are worthy programs that have increased safety on campus. Yet, more needs to be done - student involvement is necessary.
Campus safety was a big issue during the Student Senate election. Two weeks ago, a measure to increase safety on campus was given the green light, as Safe Walk, a peer escort program used by other universities, received financial support through a referendum.
The referendum vote and the petition showed that there is a concern for campus safety. Although SafeRide, KU on
Students voted for safewalk; now let's see the actions to back up the words
Wheels, and the increase in blue phones and lighting on campus have helped create a safer campus, many students are still at risk as there are simply too many students for the resources that are available. Thus, the need seemingly has been addressed with the arrival of Safe Walk.
Is Safe Walk the answer? It has been used successfully on campuses such as Brown University and the University of Alberta. Yet, these programs have numerous student volunteers and a structure of student coordinators. The
simple funding of Safe Walk is not enough to have an impact on campus. This new program will require the interest and dedication of students in order for it to be effective. At many schools, the Safe Walk program requires numerous student volunteers so that the program can meet the needs of a large student population. Do we have enough willing students to volunteer for this effort? Let's hope so.
If this program is going to be effective, it needs student support. Hopefully, all the students who were willing to raise student fees will help make this program a reality. Actions speak louder than words. If we, as students, truly are committed to increasing safety on campus, then we surely will give the support it needs to be an effective program.
Aroop Pal for the editorial board
Giving a vigorous Pat on the Back
The following people deserve a thanks, praise and an enormous Pat on the Back:
Aaron Major, Deerfield, N.H., sophomore and E.J. Reedy, Topeka freshman for organizing the University of Kansas Book Exchange. With the program students can skip the middleman (the bookstores), and sell and exchange books directly with each other. The exchange is a great idea that is long overdue. It will allow students to get a little more money for their books and spend a little less on their new ones.
Sally Frost Mason, dean of the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences, for having a reception Wednesday. April 15, for students with high GPAs in the college. She also gave "First CLAS" t-
shirts to the students. The recognition was a good gesture and, particularly for freshmen, made the students feel welcome and proud.
Voluntary Income Tax Assistance volunteers who worked from late January until tax day on April 15 to help others with their taxes. These business and law school student volunteers worked with VITA to provide free tax help to students and low-income Lawrence residents. They worked many long hours both on campus and at an East Lawrence site. Their dedication is admirable and they should be proud — we certainly are proud of them.
individuals to salvage their papers, projects and homework. They work late to lend their computer expertise to those among us that are not as computer literate or patient.
The Computer Center employees for late nights of help and hard work. Many students have had to go to these
Pride Week participants who had the confidence to stand up for their rights and unite with common goals and ideas. Their events last week contributed to the diversity of the University, as does their continued presence. They should be proud of their involvement and initiative.
Everyone we missed this semester. Unfortunately, we couldn't thank everyone who deserves a Pat on the Back. But to all of those hard workers at the University, who are most of you, every effort is appreciated — thank you for your dedication.
Paul Eakins for the editorial board
Paul Eakins . . . . . . . . . . . . Editorial
Ann Premer . . . . . . . . . . . . Editorial
Andrea Albright . . . . . . . . . News
Jodie Chester . . . . . . . . . News
Julie King . . . . . . . . . . . News
Charity Jeffries . . . . . . . . Online
Eric Weslander . . . . . . . Sports
Harley Rattliff . . . . . Associate sports
Ryan Koerner . . . . . . Campus
Mike Perryman . . . . . Campus
Bryan Volk . . . . . . Features
Tim Harrington . . . Association features
Steve Puppe . . . . . Photo
Angie Kuhn . . . . . Design, graphics
Mitch Lucas . . . . Illustrations
Corrie Moore . . . . Wire
Gwen Olson . . . Special sections
Lachelle Roades . . . News clerk
Kansan staff
News editors
Advertising managers
Kristi Bisel . . . . . . . . . . . Assistant retail, PR
Leigh Bottiger . . . . . . . . . Campus
Brett Clifton . . . . . . . . . Regional
Nicole Lauderdale . . . . . National
Matt Fisher . . . . . . . . Marketing
Chris Haghrian. . . . . . . Internet
Brian Allers . . . . . . Production
Ashley Bonner . . . . Production
Andee Templin . . . . Promotions
Dan Kim . . . . . . . . Creative
Rachel O'Neill . . . . Classified
Tyler Cook . . . . . . Zone
Steve Grant . . . . . Zone
Jamie Holman . . . . Zone
Brian LeFevre . . . . Zone
Matt York . . . . . Zone
"Better by far you should forget and smile than that you should remember and be sad." —Christina Georgina Rosetti
But it happened to me this weekend. I ran into a nearly forgotten wonder of the 1980s, a pioneer of com-
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 home-town if a University student. Faculty or staff must identify their positions.
Rap legend fades away, leaves fond memories
it's not every day that one just bumps into a pop culture legend.
Perspective
Guest columns: Should be double-
spaced typed with fewer than 700 words. The writer must be willing to be photographed for the column to run.
I ran into Tone Loc.
If, at any time in the late '80s, you attended a high school dance,
watched MTV or listened to a top 40 radio station for more than 10 minutes,
you remember him, too — the raspy voice, the wrap-around shades, the two hit songs. (And there were only two.)
How to submit letters and guest columns
All letters and guest columns should be submitted to the Kansan newsroom, 111 Stuuffer-Flint Hall. The Kansan reserves the right to edit, cut to length or reject all submissions.
For any questions, call Paul Eakins (eakins@kansan.com) or Ann Premer (apreme@kansan.com) at 864-4810. If you have general questions or comments, e-mail the page staff [opinion@kansan.com] or call 864-4810.
I first learned of his return while driving
mercial rap music.
Eric Weslander
opinion@kansan.com
down Massachusetts Street on Saturday night.
The marque in front of the Granada didn't exactly scream the name. It was more of a casual mention.
There was no fanfare in the student newspaper, no hero's welcome for the man who brought us "Wild Thing," a tune about the ins and out of life's lustful urges.
There was no hype like the hype that surrounded the somewhat embarrassing return of Vanilla Ice, the white rapper who in the early '90s made up his life story, stole a song from Queen, shaved his eyebrows, and then bit the dust when everyone found out his real name was Robbie Van Winkle. (By the way, I hear he's coming back to Lawrence for round two.)
Nope, nothing like that for the return of Tone Loc.
So when I saw his name displayed so quietly on the marquee, I thought about the way our culture exalts pop-chart savior after pop-chart savior, only to forget about them moments later.
And I kicked myself for not buying tickets.
I dug it out of the cardboard box full of tapes in my back seat. I picked it up, blew the dust off, slid it into the tape deck, turned up what little bass my Camry has and instantly was taken back to the late '80s.
Then it occurred to me: Somewhere in the back of my car I had a copy of his debut album. It was one of those things that I had kept around as a souvenir from the carefree days of elementary school.
Then there was "Cheeba Cheeba," a song that I now realize was about Tone's fondness for a certain green leaf plant.
It was a time when I was too young to grasp even the fundamentals of many of the things people such as Tone Loc were rapping about. And Johnson County was light-years away from New York and Los Angeles, but it didn't matter to me.
As a sixth-grader, I loved the rhythms,
the clever lyrics, and the rebellious aspects
of rap music. And I especially liked Tone
Loc.
What people didn't know was that, in addition to the radio-friendly hits, his album contained some risqué material. Most of his songs were peppered with strange and magnificent profanities that made me blush.
I'm in love with Mary Jane/She's my main thing
The lyrics I didn't understand were mildly frustrating but mostly fascinating. So the album was quite a score. I used to play the popular songs for my parents and my sister while we drove around in the car, but I fast-forwarded past the bawdier rhymes.
Driving around on Saturday night, listening to Tone Loc and laughing with friends, all of the songs made a lot more sense. And I didn't have to fast-forward past the lewd content.
And I remember wondering, as I pressed the headphones to my ears in sixth grade, who exactly this Mary Jane was and what was so wonderful about her.
She makes my heart sing.
What a perfect opportunity to reminisce about a more innocent time in my life. What a perfect excuse to roll around Lawrence with his tape playing.
I heard a raspy voice that was strangely familiar. I looked up, and sure enough Tone Loc was standing in the dining room. He was wearing sweats, stretching and looking as though he had had a rough night.
I nearly choked on my biscuits and gravy.
The next morning, I was eating brunch at the Eldridge Hotel.
The tape stayed in my back seat for all these years. For some reason, I kept it around instead of throwing or giving it away.
What a strange juxtaposition, I thought — Tone Loc in the Eldridge Hotel. He somehow stayed with me as I grew up — from sixth grade to my junior year of college.
I thought about going up to Tone Loc and telling him the story of how I saw his name on the marquee and then found his tape in the back seat of my car, and how I have always been a big fan.
But now, he has faded far enough out of pop-culture consciousness that the only person who recognized him in the Eldridge Hotel Sunday morning was a college student who used to dream of rebellion while listening to Tone Loc's commercial-rap novelty songs.
But I didn't. I just smiled, watched him walk out of the room and returned to my biscuits and gravy.
Funny, I thought. Ten years ago, he would have needed three bodyguards to even set foot in a public place.
Westland is a Louisville, Ky., junior in journalism.
Directionless journey lends insight into life
wanted to go someplace where no one would bother me.
My soul had been cracking and finally broke, so I thought that I would take it.
along with my wormdown heart, for a good cry. I needed to clean out my emotional closet, and the only viable option seemed to be saltwater.
I decided to go for a walk. I got as far as the sidewalk when I confronted my first problem: I only had a vague notion of where I was going. I hadn't taken a walk for no reason in so long that I wasn't sure which way
Andy Obermueler
opinion@kansan.com
I walked down my street and thought about the past week. It was a week of extremes — of goods and bads, highs and lows, wonderfuls and terribles. I long had thought that when you had a lot of ups and downs, then you could average them out and label your life as somewhere in the middle. Yeah, I thought. But who wants to lead a life of averages?
I walked past someone's illacs. They smelled heavenly, reminding me of a house my family once lived in that had illacs in the yard. I thought about the old house and the times we spent there — happy times, mostly — and the sweet smell and the fond memories somehow made me even more melancholy. Such is life, I thought, and I turned right again.
to turn. Such is life, I thought, and turned right for no reason at all.
I had come to the neighborhood grade school. I walked to the playground and sat in a swing. I swung my feet and began to swing back and forth. The mechanics of the activity came back to me, and I swung harder and harder until I was moving with the same speed and movement-induced glee
Maybe I was right about the ups and down, I thought. Maybe the trick is averaging. Here I sit at the middle point of the swing's path and life seems OK, if a little too quiet. But maybe this middle ground isn't such a bad thing — certainly there's less of a risk here at equilibrium than searching for the highs while risking the inevitable lows.
My legs had gone to sleep as I had sat there thinking, so I swung them underneath me and began to swing again. It was dark now, and the ride was even more thrilling because, even though I had a guess where I was headed, I couldn't tell exactly where I was going. It struck me that this concern about my direction had troubled me an hour earlier as I left the house. As I swung up and down again, I relished the ride. I hadn't taken a walk for the heck of it without direction for quite some time, likewise, it had been too long that I had just been glad for the ride.
After all, I thought, what's the use of sitting when you can swine?
Shreds of the past week came back to me as I swung. Problems with class — down. A good time Thursday — up. A lousy Saturday — down. An unexpected letter from an old friend — iup. I swung for 10 minutes, recalling the good and bad as I went up and down. I stopped pumping my legs and the swing began to lose its momentum. After a while, it stopped. Such is life, I thought. And I sat there.
For the first time, I noticed that the day was motionless. There was no wind, no cars and no one in sight. It was still, almost eerie. Seconds before I had heard the week replay itself in my head and had felt the air rush by as I swung but now, stillness.
that I remembered from kiddom
Obermuehler is a Liberal senior in journalism. To our knowledge, he has never turned left.