4 Friday, January 21, 1994 OPINION UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN VIEWPOINT Proposal to limit access to campus parking unfair The plan for increasing the hours that campus is restricted to vehicle traffic will place undo burden on students and only agitate the problem of parking safely after dark. The Parking Board proposal under consideration by University Governance would change the restricted hours to 7:30 a.m.-5:30 p.m. The current restricted times are 7:45 a.m.-4:45 p.m. The board cited pedestrian safety between 5 and 6 p.m. on Jayhawk Boulevard and faculty access to blue zones in the morning as reasons to change the restrictions. The fact that there have been so few accidents involving pedestrians during these times during the past several years raises the question of whether safety is indeed a problem. And though some students do park illegally in blue zones in the morning, not enough do so to warrant penalizing all students. With bus service ending around 6 p.m. on most routes, many students have little choice but to drive to early evening classes. Students with evening classes would be forced to park a considerable distance from their classes and walk in the dark or bitter cold. This safety problem, which is particularly threatening to females, justifies keeping the current restrictions. The answer to the morning-parking problem in blue zones is stronger enforcement of the rules. Evening traffic is expected to be a problem in this day and age. At times, it is easy to forget why the University exists. The campus exists primarily for students' use. When the everyday problems of rush-hour traffic on campus and faculty access to blue zones are used as excuses to justify further parking restrictions, students should be wary. WILLIAM GIST FOR THE EDITORIAL BOARD Lawrence should look to curbside recycling 4 Cities across the nation are implementing a progressive program to conserve the earth's natural resources: curbside recycling. Lawrence should follow suit. Curbside recycling enables residents to place common recyclables such as aluminum, glass and newspaper in front of their homes to be picked up periodically. Lawrence residents do have other recycling options, including several drop-off points around town and a private company that offers curbside pick-up for a fee. But too many people become apathetic because of inconvenience and do not use them. A large-scale, city-sponsored program reaching all residents would encourage more households to participate and would cost less than a private service. In addition, more recycling means less trash, and less trash means less money spent on landfill space. Opponents to curbside recycling in Lawrence argue that the program is not profitable because, once collected, recyclables must be shipped out of town to be processed. Investing in a local processing plant would save both money and time. Though curbside recycling may not turn a profit for Lawrence, we must consider its more fundamental payoffs: a healthy environment and a more promising future. These are things we cannot put a price on. Lawrence should not ask whether we can afford to adopt a more effective recycling program but whether we can afford not to. KRISTIN BRUMM FOR THE EDITORIAL BOARD The pain of fading friendships disappears with new adventures I watched my brother, Brian, unpack his suitcase. His socks looked like wadded up baseballs as he hurled them back into their drawer. He was not happy. This was two weeks ago, and while I was packing to leave the comforts of home (free food) to go back to KU, he was unpacking to stay for another week. We had just gotten back from a skiing trip. His sock-hurling confused me. Shouldn't I be the one depressed about the prospect of little sleep? He is a freshman at Colorado State University, and he did not start classes until Tuesday. "What's wrong?" I asked, while he shot the socks and missed the drawer by 3 feet. The socks were now basketballs. "You aren't going to miss me, are you?" "Of course not, you idiot," he said. "However, I am going to miss my friends. You know, there is no one I can really talk to in Colorado, except sometimes Kendra (the girl he is dating.)" But you have another week with them, I reminded him. "Which will only make me miss them more," he said. I didn't have an answer for him. I gave him a lame "Hang in there" and climbed in the car. On the ride back, Brian's troubles bounced around in my brain. And then it dawned on me: It was about one year ago today that I really spent some time with my high-school friends. High school is a time when your emotions go from one extreme to another. A breakup is a significant tragedy, usually in three acts. A trip to Everyone had their "gang" they hung out with in high school. Mine was a group of seven girls and two guys. the mall is paradise. And your friends carry you through all of it. I know mine did. But now, in my last semester, our special bonds seem to have broken. After promising with all our hearts that we would never forget each other, we have done exactly that. Our all-night parties every weekend have changed into a few hours at a coffee shop every three months. And our deep, meaningful conversations, like the ones that Brian misses so much, are now quick snatches of awkward small talk. I've been told that a few hours' distance should make no difference to the bond that holds true friendships together. But that just isn't true. I couldn't have found better friends. They were my shadows. They were a shoulder to cry on and a hand to high-five. In some ways, they have never left me. When I'm depressed, I can think back to New Year's Eve together, the secret parties at our parents' houses, the all-night movie festivals, playing tag through the hallways and barbecue picnics at the park. It drives my depression away. In an instant. But I only have 24 hours in a day. And many of those hours are spent at this newspaper or studying. And when I'm not working, I am out with my Jayhawk friends. Those friends mean just as much to me as my high-school friends did. And I know that after graduation, promises will be made to keep in touch. Maybe those promises will be kept. But I know from experience that they probably won't. Friendships don't fade because of a lack of caring. They fade because our lives are suddenly jam-packed with other things. And our lives are without people we thought we could never live without. And then, suddenly, we discover that we didn't even notice those people were gone. It took me four years and a sock-throwing brother for my discovery. Maybe soon you'll reach yours. . Dan England is a Lenexa senior in Journalism. Public affection should be private COLUMNIST It never fails. I'll be out walking on campus, at a movie, at a restaurant — basically just about anywhere and everywhere I go. I am talking about a problem that seems to have epidemic proportions on college campuses: public displays of affection, or PDAs. Whatever you want to call them, they must be stopped. We've all witnessed PDAs at one time or another. You'll be out somewhere, and there they'll be. Those two people who can't keep their hands off each other and never seem to notice that 100 people are watching. I am pleading with all of you who do this sort of thing: STOP! The innocent bystanders of the world can't take it anymore! PDAs have varying degrees of offensiveness in my book. These are as follows: A first-degree PDA would include the little things, such as holding hands, quickhugs, pecks on the cheek and things of that sort. This sort of PDA usually occurs when two people have just started dating. The first-degree DPA is tolerable only because of the "young-love-in-bloom" aspects that appeal to the romantic in me. But, if the two are not careful, they can easily overstep the first-degree boundaries and move right into a second-degree PDA. the second-degree PDA is not tolerable at any time. It includes such things as French kissing in public, hanging all over each other and fawning over your partner with a disregard for anyone else. The second-degree PDA is most often seen at restaurants, amusement parks and movies The third-degree PDA, also known as the Queen Mother of PDAs, includes full-blown mashing in the presence of others. I'm talking a hands-all-over-each other, "if we pretend they're not there, they won't be able to see us" PDA. It is most frequently witnessed at parties and bars when both offenders are in a mental state far from sobriety. I don't want to sound like I am against being affectionate, it's just that I don't want to have to see it. I mean, what do you do when you are witness to a PDA? You could ask them to stop. But if their PDA is to the point that you feel compelled to say something about it, chances are that they are totally oblivious to your presence and won't hear you if you do say something. Unlike the first-degree PDA, it won't be excused. Whenever I see two people commit tung some sort of PDA, I get embate rassed — not for myself, but for them. Do they have any idea how stupid they look? The day after the offense, their friends are going to give them hell for the previous night's display. That is the only time a PDA becomes enjoyable for a witness. The looks of embarrassment and shame on their faces are priceless. And you know what? They deserve every minute of hell they are put through. Their suffering should at least equal that of those who wilt nessed the display the night before. I realize that there will always be that one couple who just can't resist climbing all over each other in the presence of others. To them I have but one thing to say: Get a room. Danielle Raymond is a Wilmette, Illinois Junior in Journalism. BEN GROVE, Editor LISA COSMILLO, Managing editor TOM EBLEN, General manager, news adviser HILL SKETE Technology coordinator BILL SKEET, Technology coordinator KANSAN STAFF Assistant Managing Editor ...Dan England Assistant to the editor ...J.R. Claribone News ...Kristi Fogler, Katie Greemould, Ted Sheikh Media Manager ...Colleen McCain, Jess Delavern Campus ...Jess Delavern Sports ...David Dorsey Photo ...Doug Hesse Features ...Sara Bennett Wife ...Allison Lippert Freelance ..Christina Laue Editors Assistant Editors Reporters Associate campus Carlos Tejada Assistant campus/planning Brian James Chairman/CEO Charles Tolman Copy Editors Cheryl Cadue ... Liz Chadwick Gerry Fay ... Andrew Gliman Kevin Hoffman ... Roberta Johnson Angelina Lopez ... Stephen Martino Frank McCleary ... Heather Moore Jamie Dunne ... Denise Rall Abbey Schultz ... Matt Siegel Cathleen Slechta ... David Stewart Gennifer Traill ... Susan White Jacob Arnold Sara Bennett Courtney Bloomquist Jerry Breaux Angie Cunningham Jack Fisher Christoph Pulmura Matt Gowen Kenton Hirschle Brian James Tiffany Hurt Brian James Liz Klinger Jay Koester Denise Morris Kathy Patron Amy Patterson Conniella Rovelli Kim Kang Sanjima Shan Schwartz Katie Greenwald...Matt Hydeman, ...Sarah Nagl Graphica Artist Dave Campbell...Joe Harder ...Micah Lanker William Alix ... Martin Afteasten Valerie Bontrager ... Richard Devkin1 John Gamble ... Mellissa Lacey Tom Lailinger ... Heather Loftin Amy Sott ... Brian Vanderviet James Wilcox ... Jenny Zeiler Photografera Kip Chin...Kristi Fogler Todd Sellier JUSTIN GARBERG Business manager Business manager JENNIFER BLOWEY Retail sales manager Sales and marketing adviser Retail sales manager BILL THOMAS Production Business Staff Campus sales manager...Jason Eberly Regional sales manager...Troy Yawater National & Co-op sales manager...Robin King Production managers...Lara Smith Gretchen Koettermelinch Marketing director...Shannon Reilly Creative director...John Carlton Classified manager...Kelly Connexy Special sections manager...Shelly McConnell Travel manager...Wing Chan Retail assistant...Marcel Blotnick Creative assistant (photographer)...Andrew Anone Zone Managers Chris Butler Jennifer Carr Cameron Death Dean Wexel Jason Kort Retail Account Executives Brigg Bloomquat ... Holly Boren Lora Cornell ... Jason Culbertson John Edwards ... Justin Frosolone Emily Gibson ... Meredith Hennling Elaine Joseph ... Kristin Kavoulak Amy Matheson ... Carrie Meeks Melissa Muttack ... Dan Oades Regan Overy ... Martin Ropp Andrew Shriver ... Alan Stiglic Todd Winters ... Janel Zellers Campus Account Executives Shelly Falevits ...Michelle Jacoba Ame Looper ...Mark Mastro ...Erin Wiggs Regional Account Executive Arron Kirby ... Alex Kolb Jackie Nigro ... Brian Platt Ed Connealy ... Jamie Kasher Jacquelyn Pang ... Michael Robinson Anno Marie Sandertin 2.