Viewpoint
The Battalion
Texas A&M University
Friday
January 23, 1980
Slouch
By Jim Earle
“I had a real keen salute to show them our appreciation for
releasing our hostages, but I decided that it would be in bad
taste. ”
Crosswalk Fairy not trusted
Rehashing a year of
goofs on a diet of crow
In the farming community that I grew up in
the traffic was usually pretty scarce. ’Bout the
only things that ever came by with much fre
quency were tractors and it was relatively easy
to avoid being run over by one.
When we went to town with my parents,
crossing the street was a major operation. My
little brother and I were gripped by the hand
until our fingers turned blue and the fingernails
threatened to pop off in the street.
“Look both ways before crossing the street,
and then look again.”
That warning was so engraved in my mind
from childhood, that when I came to Aggieland
and saw people just nonchalantly stepping out
into the street without even a glance, I cringed.
It took me nearly two and a half years before I
could bring myself to step out into the student
crosswalk without a two-block survey of the
street.
Now, I know that students have right-of-way
in the crosswalks. At least that’s what everyone
keeps telling me. It’s sort of like knowing you
have some magical power to protect you but
you aren’t completely convinced.
The first time I decided to trust the Good
Crosswalk Fairy there was a car coming at least
a block away. It was moving pretty slow and I
had decided not to make a fool of myself and run
across. I would be calm and I would WALK!
When the first toe touched the little stripy
piece of pavement, I waited for the thunder and
lightning and flashing neon that said “You Big
Dummy” but nothing happened. Hallelujah!!
Notepad
By Tracy Fenton
Besides the fact that my heart rate was out of
control and my pupils had dilated, I had made it
across the street in one piece.
After that experience I began to build up my
courage and became quite an expert in street
crossing.
The drivers that don’t stop or slow down for
you to cross the street are either in a hurry and
never saw you in the first place, think pedes
trians are mentally deficient, or have a guilty
conscience for not letting you across and won’t
look at you as they drive by.
Then there are the drivers that like to play
games with your mind. They stop for you but
every time you stick your foot out in the street
they rev their motor. These people have a
warped sense of humor. Avoid them.
There are also drivers that are basically law
abiding citizens and obey the signs that say
“Stop for Students in Crosswalk” but don’t par
ticularly like to. They are the ones that drive off
at the same split second that your foot leaves
the pavement.
Since I had gotten pretty confident in street
crossing, I suppose I was lulled into a false
sense of security. That and the fact that I be
lieve the line about the police being here to
watch over us nearly did me in last semai
After a long day at school and work,^^
walking back to my car in the Zachry pan
lot. When I came up to the first part
crosswalk, I looked to my left because it’s ai
way street and I’m still not too sure t!
Crosswalk Fairy always pays attention.
Well, there was a College Station police
coming slowly down the street about 100yt
away. Not close enough to worry about
started across the street and kept waiting
him to stop. He never did and went bye!
enough the ruffle the hair on the baekoli
head.
That wasn’t enough!
He made a U-tum around the boulevd
caught me halfway across the street on theoli
side of the crosswalk. You’ve heard aboutba
caught between a rock and a hard place? H
was it, gang. I didn’t know whether to nil
across or stop and let him go on his merrylit
way. I finally had to stop because he showed
indication of doing so.
To make matters even worse he never lool
at me. It was like being circled by a bigsk
Well, I really don’t know what to
Maybe police are a step above the Good Cr.
walk Fairy in the pedestrian mythology.
I just know that I may never be the same
returned to the sweaty-palm, wide-eyed, i
heartbeat syndrome every time I cross
street. Crosswalk or not. Cops or no cops
Tracy Fenton is a journalism studentm
former Battalion reporter.
By DAVID S. BRODER
WASHINGTON — The hint that this would
be a vintage year for political punditry was right
there in the first week of 1980. “The safest
election bet in America — for the past genera
tion — has been that the Democrats will win
Congress, ” I wrote on Jan. 6. “Chances are, the
bet will pay off again in 1980.”
While you, dear reader, were savoring the
aftermath of your Christmas feast I was on a
self-imposed diet of crow: I was rereading the
myself.
It was not the first time. Three years ago, it
struck me that a good year-end device for let
ting you, the readers, know that I know that you
know what a klutz I am would be to rehash some
of my own mental boners. You know, a touch of
humility to build rapport and trust for the new
year.
The trouble was, the first two times I tried it,
I was blinded by my own brilliance. Sure, there
were a few clinkers; but to fasten on them and
ignore the number of times the dash of dead
line-wisdom had proved prophetic would have
been a terrible distortion of the record. The
commitment to journalistic truth prevented me
from fulfilling my sincere desire for self-
abasement.
This year, happily, there is no conflict be
tween humility and objectivity. You can hardly
reach into the file of past columns without find
ing some howler:
On Jan. 27, the “semi-official White House
line” was reported to be that Sen. Howard H.
Baker, Jr. (R-Tenn.) would be President Car
ter’s “toughest and worthiest opponent,” for
mer President Ford might be “the strongest
rival of all,” and George Bush is being taken
“more seriously.” Ronald Reagan? He barely
rated a mention.
On Feb. 24, it was said that “while all the
press attention has been on New Hampshire,
the Bush organization has been hard at work in
those Southern states (South Carolina, Geor
gia, Florida and Alabama), giving him a com
petitive base from which to move on Reagan in
Reagan’s bedrock territory.” That was some
move! Reagan beat Bush by margins of 3-to-l to
5-to-l in the four states.
On March 23, I tried to change my luck by
switching to baseball, complaining in the
annual Chicago Cubs’ column about the “immi
nent” trade of super-reliever Bruce Sutter to
the Cardinals. That prophecy was only nine
months premature — more accurate than most
in this year of misjudgement — but an embar
rassing slip, whether it concerns the arrival of a
trade or of a baby.
On April 2, it was back to politics with the
marvelous comment, “There is more issue-
content in this compaign than in any other re
cent election. ” Rereading the column, I cannot
fathom whatever made me say that, but there it
is in black-and-white. As Ring Lardner said,
“You could look it up.”
Speaking of literary allusions, the most
embarrassing goof of the year came in a try for
lyricism on April 6. Talking about President
Carter’s habit of timing optimistic announce
ments for primary election days, I quoted what
I said was a lyric from “Showboat” — “Maybe
Tuesday will be my good news day.”
As several dozen of you were kind enough to
point out, that line is from the George and Ira
Gershwin classic, “The Man I Love,” and not
from “Showboat.” When I checked with the
Ultimate Quotation Authority, George Will, he
even played the Ella Fitzgerald recording over
the phone to make it perfectly clear I was wrong
again.
There was a serious misstep on the trail of
error on Aug. 10, when the Devil made me
write, “Public disillusionment with the Demo
cratic record is widespread enough to raise the
possibility of a big Republican victory at all
levels of the ballot. ” But by Sept. 7, I was back
in form, declaring “Michigan is potentially one
of (John) Anderson’s best states.” He got 7 per
cent there.
On Oct. 22, I credited Vice President Mon
dale with “swinging Wisconsin from Reagan to
Carter.” Later, somebody sneakily swung it
back to Reagan, without my knowledge, but
still that’s a nice accolade for Mondale to take
with him into retirement.
On Dec. 7, just to show my knack had not
ended with the election, I wrote a column that
was full of praise for Evergreen State College in
Olympia, Wash., and its president, former
Gov. Daniel J. Evans. I figured the topic was a
bit parochial but would please the Olympia
newspaper, which carried my column. Wrong
again. It turns out the local editor takes such a
dim view of Evans that he cancelled the column
outright.
With luck like that, you can guess how sorry
I am to see 1980 end. The Reagan Era poses
new tests, but I am determined to keep alive
the tradition of being first with the wrongest
judgment.
And for you good readers who have put up
with all this, a bit of reward. Many of you have
begged for the identity of the hidden-away-in-
the-woods New Hampshire restaurant where
the Swiss chef cooks in an 18th century farm
house kitchen for a tiny clientele — the place I
savored as the site of “the best evening” of the
whole 1980 campaign.
It is Crystal Quail and Center Barnstead. It is
open only certain nights and then by reserva
tion only. Some of you may think a recommen
dation from me is a guarantee of ptomaine. Not
so. Trust me. Have I ever misled you?
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Not what’s said, but the way they say it
By LeROY POPE
United Press International
NEW YORK — Understanding language
isn’t enough to communicate successfully in
modern business, says the head of a Los
Angeles firm devoted to teaching people how to
interpret non-verbal signals.
Michael McMaster and Dr. John Grinder,
linguist and psychologist, partners in Precision
Model, stage seminars and conferences for the
executives and employees of blue chip firms,
teaching them to depend not so much upon
what people say as on the non-verbal signals
they give during negotiations, conferences and
ordinary conversation.
For example, if the person you are talking
with and seeking something from leans back in
his or her chair, gazes at the ceiling from time to
time and otherwise seems utterly relaxed, you
should match that attitude without obvious
mimicry, McMaster said.
If you persist in sitting forward in your chair,
staring intently and trying to create a brisk
atmosphere, you’re licked, he said.
McMaster and Grinder say the essence of
successful oral communication in today’s world
lies in being aware of the other person’s mood
his or her body posture and head position, rate
of breathing, repetitive gestures and tone of
voice, and adapting to it.
“That’s the way to get your message across in
a job interview, or in talking to your superiors
your subordinates or in trying to make a sale ”
McMaster said. ’
It is not enough simply to listen to what the
other person is saying. You must respond.
To improve your abilities as a communicator
he said, you must ask yourself:
Do I know what I’m after, what I want*
specific outcome of this talk or meeting to ^
How much flexibility do I have? jj 5
willing am I to change the way I think, talk 1
move my body in response to the other per-®
How willing am I to adjust in order to getwl' 1 '
want?
How aware am I of the effect of what Ij 1
said or did — the feedback? Have I respond
to the other person in the most approP nJ
way?
It s axiomatic, McMaster said, that the 5 ®
cessful managers in modem business aret
who can deal with a deluge of information,
writtpn a nr) ^v-,,1 T«.’ „ cplpctiOD
Warped
By Scott McCullar
MEMBER
Texas Press Association
Southwest Journalism Congres
l ’ S P S 045 360
Managing Editor!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Angelin™ Cone!° n H
S^ mEdUm
N - sE <"- ::: Venice
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Staff Writers ra US ? n *i°P kms
G ' BrUSt ’ Terry Duran » Cind/cee
Jon Heidtke, Belinda McCoy, Kathy O’Connell’
Cartoonist
Photo Editor t 0tt MeOullar
Photographer Gammon
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