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About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (Jan. 19, 1983)
opinion Governor needs to prove qualities (ffiSS It wasn’t a bright day to start off a governorship — it rained and rained and rained. Rookie Gov. Mark White gave the usual “we shall overcome” inaugural address and the usual crowd showed up to wish him well. But after the inauguration ceremony, White initiated a touch of the bizarre. Editorial Wielding a pair of bolt cutters, he cut the lock off the gate to the governor’s man sion, symbolizing his desire to open Texas government to the public. The display of populism fit the festive mood of the day. But now it’s time for White to leave such trite displays to cam paigning and get on with the real issues. White has a big challenge ahead. Texas, traditionally a bastion of oil-based prosperity, faces high unemployment and a shaky economy. In addition, the state highway system is decaying, many state universities are in need of repair and utility costs are soaring. In his inaugural speech, White pledged to try to remedy those problems and more. His intentions are noble, but he has outlined few specific plans. White now is at the helm of the nation’s third largest state. He knows what the problems are; he has four years in which to solve them. Campaign rhetoric won’t cut it — neither will bolt cutters. The tools White now needs are persistence, integrity and ingenuity. Texas voters felt he had those qual ities; now it’s up to him to prove it. Goodbye Ma Bell; Hello local company by Art Buchwald One of the saddest things Americans will have to face in 1983 is the demise of “Ma” Bell, who, at the urging of the Jus tice Department, is going out of the tele phone business and into “computers” and esoteric communications. From now on, each one of us will be at the mercy of his or her local telephone company. I’ve always been very sentimentally attached to the old gal so I went over last week to say goodbye. “We’re going to miss you, ‘Ma,’” I told her as she was packing some cable and silicon chips in her suitcase. ‘‘I’m going to miss every last one of you,” she said. “You were all my children and we shared many good times and bad times together.” “It doesn’t seem right to break you up,” I said bitterly. “You were the best telephone system in the whole wide world. I never told anyone this before, but you were the only monopoly I ever loved.” “I did the best I could,” she said, wip ing away a tear. “Some people did call me a monopoly, but I was a benevolent one. I had to make a prof it for the widows and orphans who owned my stock. But I also made it possible for almost everyone in this country to own a telephone. I soaked the rich on long-distance calls, so I could subsidize the poor who wanted to make local ones.” “You were the last American monopo ly who had a heart.” “My only desire in life,” she said, “was to reach out and touch someone.” I handed her a Kleenex. “When something went wrong with your phone,” she sobbed, “I sent one of my people out there right away to fix it and I never charged you.” “And when we got lucky you always let us keep the change we found in the coin box at a pay phone.” “The girls I trained to be operators were the friendliest women America. And I respected people’s privacy. If you didn’t want to be in the phone book I always found you an unlisted number.” “You let our fingers do the walking in the Yellow Pages.” “I tried to make life a little easier for everybody.” “Tell me, ‘Ma,’ of all the innovations you thought up during the years, which one were you the proudest of?” “The collect telephone call. I made it possible for generations of children to keep in touch with their parents. I doubt without the collect call if parents would have ever heard from their kids again.” “Only a mother would have thought of the collect telephone call,” I said. She put a Princess phone and a Touch- Tone dialer in her suitcase. “The Justice Department never did like me. They’ve been out to get me for years. Well, at least I wired up the coun try before they won their case.” “If it hadn’t been for you there wouldn’t be telephone poles strung across this nation from sea to shining sea.” “Could you use an old switchboard?” she asked me. “I’d like that. It would remind me of the wonderful times we had together.” “Well, I guess I’m all packed,” she said. “It was nice of you to stop in and say goodbye. Most people forget:” “I’ll never forget you. Every time the phone rings I’ll say to myself, ‘Ask not for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for “Ma.“”’ Tears started to well up in her eyes. “I suppose now that I’ve been broken up you’ll never call me any more.” “Of course I’ll call you, ‘Ma.’” “When?” “Friday.” “Mrs. Estrin’s son Melvyn calls her ev ery day.” Slouch By Jim Earle “Regardless of what your schedule says, this can’t be your classroom. But on the other hand, you could ...” \H PEOPLE LAST YEAR IN ENSLANP,' H/WUNS KILLED 37 PEOPLE LAST YEARIN AMERICA, HAHPEiUNS KILLED 20,000 PEOPLE. WERE NUMBER Ilf \N lany s yeek i Yiday. Finding friends — bit by byte by Maxwell Glen and Cody Shearer We were marveling at our home com puter terminal one day last week when the green screen blinked “Chat from TCS221.” Someone, somewhere, wanted to talk. don’t fully comprehend the “personal” side of the personal computer. Manuals and promotional literature certainly give little hint. The advantages center more on storage, programming and the con siderable educational functions of the by C Ba ■Prepare Kblicity ft giant Sti sponsored across the country, coinpulf be held Fe has led married couples to talkiffi The b with adolescent whiz kids whilBgin Mor mothers befriend bachelors. R 5 ™ meJ Most tiscis. p.ii IK ularlvtho'ti^ 1 ^ )<ul( m big cities, go one step ™J|n (lr y an together. Reports of s al radio st We’d heard a^lot about such people since installing the machine last year. And we were wary. To our minds, the much-touted computer revolution wasn’t worth pursuing if it meant that Amer icans would conimunicate only through their modems. ... the green screen blinked “Chat from TCS221.” Someone, some where, wanted to talk. by users who live hundredsofmB j oe j s r l| Moreover, neither of us knew how to “chat,” a common nickname for instan taneous, on-line, two-way communica tion. We didn’t know what topics were considered chatworthy, much less what functions were needed to begin our first electronic relationship. With some prompting from the screen, we found TCS221 to be Andrew Schlein, a Manhattan pharmaceutical analyst who is somewhat of a spokesman for chatnicks. Schlein has been chatting with hundreds of computer buffs for more than a year. Last month he threw a Christmas party for several dozen, some of whom he’d known only over the wires. He gave us a taste of computer-aided communication while filling us in about his favorite hobby. According to Schlein, his party was only one of many such gatherings of chatterers who subscribe either to the Reader’s Digest Source or the Ohio- based CompuServe computer network. It’s natural, he said, for peoplq who meet via either network to get together even tually. Like us, most Americans probably machine. Yet, despite all one hears about Americans’ insatiable interest in the tech- nology of tomorrow, personal-computer owners who hook up with user networks spend a majority of their on-line time in age-old pastimes: meeting strangers, ex changing interests and ideas, flirting and just imagine it — falling in love. Relationships born from the compu ter, however, are apparently unlike those that users have had in the past. Freed from the often-imposing prejudices we assign to looks and mannerisms, chatter ers open up rapidly to partners. Blessed with anonymity, individuals are more confident about their thought. Charges for on-line time make users more spon taneous, f i iendships blossom at acceler ated rates. Could TCS221 compare chatting with other types of human exchange? ‘You open up the way you do with someone you meet on an airplane,” Schlein reported in response. “You say more than normal to someone you mav never see.” 7 For many, the effect is liberating In teractive television rejuvenated the lives of senior citizens in Reading, Pa., recent ly, allowing many house-bound residents to revive old friendships, discuss local politics and meet new friends. Elsewhere I Nussb; sent an ii are increasing. Meeting for a ernment dinner was onlv the first SWRntservii dozen or so couples whom il meeting and CompuServe say have metjgierrill ha puter and eventually been man®n anno TCS221 admitted that some® lhe P’ at the prospect of personal co b ^ n ^ s f he worry that the new tetnnon $ tuc i em in time, lead some users to 1 Rqo each people for computer blips and Council, tl ■from society? . Council a “It’s simply not true,’ heiin®tation Cl cold, gre£n type. “In fact, with a much larger group year ago and a much wider w® one would meet in daily 1® machine encourages, rather ill jr courages, interaction.” Indeed, the “dehumanizing■ computerization may be The personal computer, at 1®® seem to have a greater P 0 f e 1 r j®f opposite ef f ect. As John Fickwl ate director of news and pumitl the Corporation for Public Bro® pointed out in his recent book communications, mare, two-way action ™ JLe in th than the one-way channels on ^ e p art vision. < day at 4 p For now, the advent of computer means more than ^ ^ mize our business opportun Year’s Ev< only going to change th ^ ",‘‘',1 A Ron municate, but could make p Unc j bas municators of us all. P>edean’s veterinary Letter: incentives in education Editor: I direct this to Mr. Biju Matthew and his recent article of January 17. Mr. Matthew, a college degree certifies a cer tain level of proficiency in a field of study, not a level of proficiency in market analysis (although that happens to be in cluded in some business applications). If you really want to begin to solve the problem of incentive in education, I sug gest that you examine the premise widely accepted in today s society that educa tional institutions should be public and tax-supported. The spirit of your suggestions is well taken, but go to the root of the problem instead of providing statists with cannon fodder. Frank Knickerbocker 306 Redmund The Battalion USPS 045 360 Member ol T exas Press Association Southwest Journalism Conference Editor rv „ , Managing Editor ii r ** Associate Editor . . ' A y .IV 1 City Editor Denise Richter AssistantCity Editor BeverVv H T < h Sports Editor. ... ‘ H , dlllllton Entertainment Editor ’ ^ ^ ('ioleiteHm Assistant Entertainment Editor Di m V 111 ^ News Editors. . 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