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Tuesday, August 28, 1990 / University Daily Kansan
Opinion
THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
Prevent tragedy
Caution, slower speeds should be used on rails
The death of a 6-year-old Lawrence boy who was struck by a train Aug.21 serves as a reminder that train accidents can be particularly tragic because most of them easily could be avoided.
The conductor managed to slow the train to 40 to 50 mph before it struck Freeman Jack.
How could last week's accident have been avoided? The train could have been traveling much slower. The speed limit for trains on that section of track, near TeePee Junction, or the junction of U.S. highways 59 and 24-40, is 70 mph.
Alex Tice, Union Pacific's regional director for public relations in Omaha, said 70 mph was a typical speed limit for trains traveling outside city limits. The spot where Freeman was killed, however, is barely outside Lawrence city limits — too close for a train to be traveling 70 mph.
The federal government regulates rural train speed limits, but limits within and around
cities are agreed upon by both the cities and the rail companies. Union Pacific probably will agree to a lower speed limit near TeePee and citizens ask the city and the company to do so.
Vernon Winger, an official from the Kansas Corporation Commission, admitted that the limit was a bit fast near the junction but said it was well within federal regulations.
But the speed limit along the TeePee Junction track is not the only factor to consider in the accident. Witnesses to the accident say Freeman and two other boys were walking on the train tracks. The three ran when they heard the train's whistle, but Freeman tripped and was struck by the train.
Lawrence officials and the railroad companies should agree on a lower speed limit for the section of track near TeePe Junction. But people have the responsibility to stay off the tracks.
Julie Mettenburg for the editorial board
Oil prices zoom
Although costly, U.S. conservation may result
A rising oil prices brought on by Iraq's invasion of Kuwait threaten to push the faltering U.S. economy into recession, one is reminded of former President Carter's declaration of "the moral equivalent of war" on gas guzzling.
During Carter's 1970s presidential term, U.S. politicians promised to end dependence on foreign oil and the economic uncertainty that dependence created.
The residual effects of those modest attempts at self-control still save 14 million barrels of oil a day. The savings helped make the U.S. the only country which controls 78 percent of the world's oil.
But the recent events in the Middle East show that the nation is as dependent as ever on imported oil.
Based on current output, most of the non-Middle East oil will run out within 25 years, including the United States' own reserves. But the United States has failed to develop a sensible energy policy.
In recent years the United States has fallen through on its most ambitious energy-saving plans.
Detroit has been pushing bigger cars lately catering to consumer demands. At the same time, the government has avoided legislating higher fuel efficiency standards, reversing or weakening laws created during past oil crises
Although automakers have increased average efficiency by 7 miles a gallon since 1973, improvements ended in 1988. Average efficiency decreased in 1989 and decreased again this year. U.S. fuel standards still are substantially lower than丹山的.
At a time when at least two major auto makers have 80-mpg prototypes, it is foolish for the United States to settle for efficiency ratings that average less than 30 miles a gallon.
Even more short-sighted was the frivolous increase of highway speed limits from 55 to 65 miles an hour after gas prices fell below 70 cents a gallon in the mid-'80s. The speed limit increase translates to 167,000 barrels of oil wasted every day.
During the last 10 years, federal energy grants were cut from $750 million to $113 million, tax credits for developing alternate fuels and oil exploration came to a virtual standstill,
Ironically, higher prices may be the only way to motivate a society devoted to conspicuous consumption to come to terms with the realities of a limited resource. Only record oil costs, it seems, can persuade Americans to conserve energy, examine alternatives to oil and end its vulnerability to disturbances half a world away.
The editorial board
The Sidecar.
Sav it now, in the living years
Niki died Thursday. My mom called to tell me that she saw it in the paper when she got un
Of course, I knew I'd hear these words someday, but they came too soon. You see, Nikki had had cancer for more than a year, and she'd been in and out of the hospital for much of that time. Still, she was only 19. Nineteen-year-olds don't die. Right? Wrong.
Of course, I suppose it's good in a way. At least she's not suffering anymore. For that, I'm grateful.
But nothing serves to remind a person of his own mortality more acutely than losing a friend. Nothing hurts outweighs as much either. Trust me.
If memory serves me correctly, we met our freshman year in high school, geography class I think it was. I didn't remember if it hit off instantly, but we probably did. Everyone liked Nikki. It was hard not to. She was always happy and energetic, spontaneous and caring, smart and humane, all at the same time. She had style, grace and strength. Most of all, she was always wearing that smile.
We always had a rather odd relationship, Nikki and I. It seemed pedestrian enough on the outside, but every time we started talking, we
That smile. It could make guys weak. In girls it inspired trust. It could make anyone happy if they were a supernatural magic, and it was her secret weapon.
Donovan Finn
Staff columnist
seemed to end up in a deep, intense conversation about one thing or another.
Truth is, I often entertained the thought of asking Nikki out. Never did though. I don't know why, really. Maybe I was intimidated by her; maybe questioning was easy. One more unanswered question to add to my growing collection
I was devastated when I found out Nikki had cancer; we all were Nikki? No. She is in great shape. She was happy and full of life, just as all we were. No way, hub-uh, couldn't be.
That led to other unanswered questions. Why Nikki? Now, when she was so young and had a wonderful, rich life ahead of her? And what were we supposed to do? Could we help? Should we say anything to her? Did she want me to go away? In retrospect, doing nothing was the worst choice of all.
Eventually, of course, we all had to stop denying it and face the facts. Nikki really did have cancer. If it hadn’t been her, it could have been any of us. Happiness and good health do not make someone immortal.
The last time I honestly remember
seeing Nikki was last summer. We were at Linda's back to school bash. We were all so full of ourselves. We went to college for first school. We were going to college
Nikki was there and we talked for a while. She looked great, and the only thing out of place was the brightly-colored bandana around her head. Chemotherapy is not pretty, unlike the Nikki I knew
I never saw her after that, although I talked to her on the phone once. But I never had the nerve to ask how she was doing or if there was anything anyone could do for her. I never even went to see her when I heard that she was in the hospital or that she was sick again. Some friend I knew who did not i了 any of this. Who knows. More unanswered questions.
Now that it's too late, I regret all that. At least I remember her the way she was that night at Linda's. Like the Nikki of old, she was full of life and dreams, just the kind who's supposed to live forever
I never want to lose another friend. I know that is not a very plausible wish, but I'm grateful to Nikki for what she taught me, in life and in death. Most of all, I learned how important it is to let someone know that you really care, because another chance may never come along.
Donovan Finn is a Topeka sophomore majoring in advertising.
Other Voices
The old rules no longer apply in defining today's obscenity
It is becoming more and more difficult to sort out what is and is not obscene these days. Or at least it is being made so Censorship vs the First Amendment has become the group advocates suppression in the name of freedom; another advocates uninhibited expression in the name of freedom.
At one time obscurity was relatively easy to define: dirty words and dirt pictures. But today, barracks talk is commonplace, and artwork previously kept in locked drawers is in the public domain, if not in public demand. Does it make them any less obscene?
The quaint old rule of thumb used to be that if you would not say or do something in mixed company, then it was probably obscene or vulgar and therefore not fit for public consumption. Today, applying the standard of mixed company would be meaningless.
Over the years, the U.S. Supreme Court has come up with commensalised definitions of obscurity. Recently retired Justice William J. Brennan once defined it as that which is "utterly without redeeming social importance". In 1973, the high court defined it as material that would occupy a storage person, applying contemporary or institutional standards," and that depicts or describes sexual conduct in a "patently offensive way."
But this is a society that doesn't put much stock in common sense; people have their own agendas and self-interests to promote and impose on others. They raise havoc with the definition of free expression. The question is not what is obscure — we know it when we see it — but how obscurely a society can put up with before obscenity destroys it.
KANSAN STAFF
From the Indiana Daily Student
DEREK SCHMIDT
Editors
KJERSTIN GABRIELSON Managing editor
TOM EBLEN
General manager, news adviser
Editors
News  Julie Mottenburg
Editorial  Mary Neubauer
Planning  Pam Solliner
Campus  Holly Lawton
Sports  Brent Maycock
Photo  Andrew Morrison
Features  Stacy Smith
MARGARET TOWNSEND Business manager
Campus sales mgr. Christian Dool
Regional sales mgr. Jackie Schmazniel
National sales mgr. David Price
Co-ops sales mgr. Deborah Salzner
Production mgr. Missy Miller
Production assistant Julie Akland
Marketing director Audra Langford
Creative director Gail Enbinder
MINDY MORRIS
Retail sales manager
JEANNIE HINES
Sales and marketing adviser
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Fee payment prompts senior to reminisce, advise freshmen
Fee payment is now more than a week behind me. Thank God. It was the ninth fee payment of my college career, and during those same weeks more upset, guiltily and frustrated with each one.
However, after working as a bus boy at a restaurant for the last two years of high school, I was faced with the realization that there was no way in hell I was going to be able to pay for college.
Somewhere along the way in the first sixteen years of my existence, my parents instilled in me what I consider both a blessing and a curse: the belief that one should work hard for what one desires. I have seen children enough, rewards of some kind await them, just like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.
I remember my parents and me sitting down at the time and considering our options.
I was born and raised in Topeka, a city just 21 miles west of Lawrence. However, at the time I started college, I believed that an important part of "the college experience" was moving away from home. Even a scant 25 miles would be far enough away to do whatever I wanted, to come and
There was financial aid, but together my parents made just enough money to disqualify me. The idea of a student loan was rejected because it made no sense to pay interest on a loan and thus pay even more for an education. A Pell Grant seemed a promising notion, but I decided that the government (at that time under Ronald Reagan) might decide to slash such assistance in the future.
The agreed-to plan of action was that I would use my $2,600 in savings to go as far as I could, and would work as much as I could to replace whatever was spent. Every great plan usually has at least one glaring flaw in it, though. The mistake in this grand scheme was, of course, me.
Bryan Swan Staff columnist
go as I pleased, to be free.
The lesson I have learned from that decision is that even freedom has a price tag. Instead of living at home, I decided to live in a residence hall, monthly rent required.
The next big mistake was to continue my relationship with my high school sweetheart, who had accompanied me to the realm of higher learning. Unfortunately I'm a romantic pushover. No offense to the wonderful female population of the city, but let's face it. girls can be expensive.
To make a long story short, she never graduated and we broke up. Oh well.
Mom. Dad. how about a loan?
An even bigger mistake was to continue living in the apartment that my former flame and I had rented after leaving the residence hall system. At this point, my sinking financial ship could have been saved. I still could have retired and dropped out, hoping to save enough money to live and fight another day. Instead, I put myself in the position I am in now.
My situation produces an add mix of emotions and circumstances. The thought that I am both a college student and a member of the working class poor just does not sound right. Worse, the endless parade of 25 to 40-hour work weeks has purchased only the bare fraction of a percentage of my
education
The worst part of my situation is that this fee payment will be my last. After this semester it's all over. Then what? I think of all those thousands of dollars and wonder if anyone else feels this guilt mixed with apprehension, even if they have been very happy with it. In which high-rise office complex they are destined for.
I have learned a few things from the odyssey of the last four years, and I would like to pass that knowledge on to this year's crop of freshmen, who to me seem so terribly young and vibrant.
First, the myth of working your way through college is just that: a myth. I know of no one who has done it from my group of high school friends, but I have heard of the idea of ever attending or finishing school
My advice is to play it smart. Take the government's money or your parent's money. Take anybody's money, even Donald Trump's. Don't buy a car unless you can make higher education so prohibitively expensive.
Oh yeah, don't sleep in class. It drives the professors nuts.
Second, know how to budget before you get here, or learn how. Work hard to become part of the generation that will come of age in this new decade. Be sure your efforts sense and frugality that the last decade lacked.
I've heard new ideas are what college is all about. I'll believe that is true when someone lowers tuition for a change instead of raising it. Now there's a new idea. . .
Third and finally, remember why you are at the University of Kansas, which is to learn something.
Bryan Swan is a Topeka senior majoring in journalism.
Home Remedies
THAT'S IT. HE BOUGHT
ME FOR A REASON. AND
I PLAN TOSE HE MAKES
TO IHIS 7-80 CLASS/
By Tom Michaud
no more than two words, no more than three words, no more than four words, no more than five words, no more than six words, no more than seven words, no more than eight words, no more than nine words, no more than ten words, no more than eleven words, no more than十二 words, no more than十三 words, no more than十四 words, no more than十五 words, no more than十六 words, no more than十七 words, no more than十八 words, no more than十九 words, no more than二十 words, no more than三十 words, no more than四十 words, no more than五十 words, no more than fifteen words, no more than十六 words, no more than seventeen words, no more than eighteen words, no more than nineteen words, no more than twenty one words, no more than twenty-two words, no more than twenty-three words, no more than twenty-four words, no more than twenty-five words, no more than twenty-six words, no more than twenty-seventeen words, no more than eighteen thousand words, no more than nineteen thousand words, no more than twenty-one thousand words, no more than twenty-two thousand words, no more than twenty-three thousand words, no more than twenty-four thousand words, no more than twenty-five thousand words, no more than twenty-six thousand words, no more than twenty-seventeen thousand