The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current, October 05, 1983, Image 2
Page 2/The Battalion/Wednesday, October 5,1983 opinion Editorial: Great schools are not made with bells cari stegall Last week Ford D. Albritton, Class of ’43, announced that he and his wife were giving Texas A&M a gift of a carillon — a 130-foot bell tower. The proposed site for the tower — between the YMCA Building and the Coke Building where there now is a cir cular flower bed — has not yet been approved by the planning and building committee. When Albritton presented the Uni versity with the gift at a recent Board of Regents meeting, he stated that most of the great universities in the United States have one distinctive feature — a carillon. Great universities do not achieve their reputations because of bell towers. True, the tower may enhance the campus sur roundings, but reputations are built on the quality of students and research, not the beauty of the campus. Albritton also added at the regents meeting that the tower would be a con stant reminder that Texas A&M is con tinuing to strive for excellence. Students and research, not a bell tow er, should be the constant reminder that Texas A&M is continuing to strive for excellence. But for such a reminder to exist, the resources to achieve excellence must exist. Albritton was indeed generous with his offer of building the carillon; howev er, the money could be put to better use by providing academic necessities. Lib rary books, lab equipment, research funds and endowed scholarships all are needed. With quality resources, Texas A&M can be great — even without a bell tower. Legislators value their weekends by Robert Shepard United Press International WASHINGTON — In most ways the U.S. Senate is an eminently unique body, but it does share a few characteristics with less prominent groups, including the TGIF syndrome (Thank God It’s Friday). Like office workers, store clerks, con struction workers, doctors and business executives, senators are prone to view Friday afternoon as a time to wind down from the week’s labors and, if at all possi ble, make an early departure for home. Senate Republican leader Howard Baker was reminded of that fact one re cent Friday afternoon when the Senate was stumbling its way through considera tion of the State Department authoriza tion bill. As is usual when he is off the floor attending to other business, Baker was keeping one ear tuned to a small speaker in his office where he is able to follow the floor debate and catch any un expected problems that might require his attention. will take Baker to find out,” he said round of laughter. “I do not like to say this, bull do think there is any way we are goin* finish this bill today,” he continued. 5 * Looking to the bill’s Democratic; Republican floor managers Baker non “I do not see any energetic shakingof| head to the contrary.” Baker then proceeded to undo tangle that began to develop when offered his amendment to McCl amendment. In short order he was to clear the way for the Senate to d consideration of the State Departnn authorization bill until the ft week and enable all senators to bej their weekend. At the time, Sen. James McClure, R- Idaho, was speaking for an amendment concerning the Soviet Union’s com pliance with arms control agreements. During a pause Senate Democratic lead er Robert Byrd rose to offer an amend ment that would put the Senate on re cord as calling for the firing of Interior Secretary James Watt, thereby threaten ing to open a whole new debate when several senators had already left for the day. Perhaps more than avera citizens, members of Congn value their weekends because th often must fly back to theirhon states or districts to deal with mi ters there or to campaign for election. So Friday afternoon Monday morning sessions th complicate airline connections^ clearly out of favor. A few moments later, Baker arrived on the floor, saying it “suddenly dawned” on him that the Senate was no longer talking about the State Department bill, “and that perhaps I should come to the floor and find out what is going on.” “I think what is going on is Friday afternoon, and I think that what I have said so many times has proven true once more — there is not a man or a woman alive who can make the Senate do some thing it does not want to do,” Baker said. “I think what I heard on the squawk box in my office was the Senate saying we adjourned, and wondered how long it The House, it should be noted similar aversion to working Fridayafti noons. And Mondays in both chamlx rarely see any significant bills thatraij require the attendance of all membetj Weekends clearly are important members of Congress and one of most chilling threats Baker or Hoi Speaker Thomas O’Neill can make their respective chambers is that o! business session on Saturday. Thettin alone usually is enough to whipthemt bers into line and allow busines> completed before the weekend. Perhaps more than average citiztfl members of Congress value tk I weekends because they often must a l< back to their home states or district deal with matters there or to camp; for re-election. So Friday afternooiil Monday morning sessions that coi cate airline connections are clearly01 favor. That is a fact of congressional life; one that the leaders, such as Baker, live with. No joy in the New York Yacht Club lately by Art Buchwald I was invited to the New York Yacht Club for lunch the other day by Welling ton Spinnaker III. Since I hadn’t been there before, I didn’t know what to expect. The lobby was all decorated in black crepe and grown men were sitting in overstuffed chairs, wiping tears from their eyes. “They seem to be taking the America’s Cup loss pretty hard,” I said. “Wouldn’t you if you had lost some thing that was in the family for 132 years?” Wellington said bitterly. “It’s just a little old cup. Why doesn’t the club order a new one from Tiffany’s to put in the glass case?” I said. “You apparently don’t appreciate the significance of the Australian victory. It means America no longer rules the waves.” “It could have been worse. The Rus sians could have won it. At least Australia is a stalwart ally.” “Not in this club, she isn’t,” said Wel lington. “The New York Yacht Club members may forget, but they never for give.” “Oh, for heaven’s sakes,” I told him. “It was just another sailboat race. I’m not much of a sailor but I f igure as long as you have a good wind at your back and a case of beer, it doesn’t matter who crosses the line first.” “Would you keep you voice down?” Wellington muttered. “Many of our members are armed.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t know the America’s Cup meant so much to the club. Tell me, why didn’t the Liberty use her motor when she saw she was going to lose the final race?” “The Liberty doesn’t have a motor, stupid,” Wellington whispered in a harsh “Well, that’s rather dumb, isn’t it? How did they expect to beat the Aussies without a motor?” “Look, would you do me a favor and shut up if you don’t know what you’re “Oh, for heaven’s sakes,” I told him. “It was just another sailboat race. I’m not much of a sailor but I figure as long as you have a good wind at your back and a case of beer, it doesn’t matter who crosses the line first. “ voice. talking about?” Wellington said. “I may not know much about sailing,” I said. “But I do know that if you put a shroud over your keel when you’re in port, you always have a better chance of winning a race. Why didn’t you people put a shroud over your keel?” “Because we had nothing to hide. They double-crossed us by having a winged keel, but they didn’t want us to see it. I never trusted the Aussies since Pearl Harbor,” Wellington huffed. “They say the koala bear is really a dirty little animal,” I said, hoping to cheer him up. Suddenly an old man in an overstuf- fed chair got up, took a silverplated pistol out of his pocket and shouted, “I have nothing to live for any more!” Two of the younger members grabbed him. “Easy Josiah, we still haven’t heard from the protest committee.” Josiah sat back in his chair and sobbed, “We had them three to one. They stole our wind.” amongst ourselves for the rest ofi lives.” “It must be a terrible thing toK with,” I told him. “But there is alwaj next time, and I’m sure you peoplci come up with a better keel by then, “But in the meantime the Aussiesli! our cup,” Wellington said. A member came up. “Did you In about Tippy Vanderslip?” he said tof lington. “What happened?” “He went up to the Bronx ZoowitW fii “I guess you people aren’t too happy about the ballast decision either,” I said. Wellington said, “This club will never be the same again. We’ll be fighting shotgun and tried to bag a kangarootatai “Poor Tippy. The last time I talkeBm him he wanted me to go with him throw a brick through the plate glass dow of Qantas Airlines,” Wellington The waiter came over to take order. “How’s the flounder?” I askedlfl lington. He didn’t laugh. The Battalion USPS 045 360 Member ot Texas Press Association Southwest Journalism Conference Editor Hope E. Paasch Managing Editor Beverly Hamilton City Editor Kelley Smith Assistant City Editor Karen Schrimsher Sports Editor Melissa Adair Entertainment Editor .... Rebeca Zimmermann Assistant Entertainment Editor Shelley Hoekstra News Editors Brian Boyer, Kathy Breard, Tracey Taylor, Chris Thayer, Kathy Wiesepape Photo Editor Eric Evan Lee Staff Writers Brigid Brockman, Ronnie Crocker, John Lopez, Christine Mallon, Michelle Powe, Ann Ramsbottom, Stephanie Ross, Angel Stokes, John Wagner, Wanda Winkler Copy Editors Kathleen Hart, Kristal Mills, Susan Talbot Cartoonists Paul Dirmeyer, Scott McCullar Photographers Brenda Davidson, Michael Davis, Guy Hood, John Makely, Dean Saito The Battalion also senes as a laboratory newspaper for students in reporting, editing and photography clas ses within the Department of Communications. Questions or comments concerning any editorial matter should be directed to the editor. Letters Policy Letters to the Editor should not exceed 300 words in length, and are subject to being cut if they are longer. The editorial staff reserves the right to edit letters for style and length, but will make every effort to maintain the author’s intent. Each letter must also be signed and show the address and telephone number of the writer. Columns and guest editorials also are welcome, and are not subject to the same length constraints as letters. Address all inquiries and correspondence to: Editor, The Battalion, 216 Reed McDonald, Texas A&M Uni versity, College Station, TX 77843, or phone (409) 845- 2611. The Battalion is published Monday through Friday during Texas A&M regular semesters, except for holi day and examination periods. Mail subscriptions are $16.75 per semester, $33.25 per school year and $35 per full year. Advertising rates furnished on request. Our address: The Battalion, 216 Reed McDonald Building, Texas A&M University, College Station, TX 77843. The Battalion is a non-profit, self-supporting news paper operated as a community senice to Texas A&M University and Bryan-College Station. Opinions ex pressed in The Battalion are those of the editor or the author, and do not necessarily represent the opinions of Texas A&M University administrators or faculty mem bers, or of the Board of Regents. United Press International is entitled exclusively to the use for reproduction of all new*' dispatches credited to it. Rights of reproduction of all other matter herein reserved. Second class postage paid at College Station, TX 77843. Current presidential candidates plagued by ‘terminal dullness’ by Arnold Sawislak United Press International WASHINGTON — It is probably safe to say that none of the current crop of 1984 presidential hopefuls has caught the fan cy of the public. With the campaign year hard upon us, a charisma gap seems to be developing as expressed in a comment heard with in creasing frequency, to wit: “What a bunch of turkeys.” Former Vice President Walter Mon dale, we are told, is exceeded only in ter minal dullness by Sen. John Glenn; Sen. Alan Cranston looks and sounds like a man who needs a solid meal; President Reagan is developing wattles and repeats himself a lot; Sens. Gary Hart and Ernest Hollings have fine heads of hair but no one can recall their faces; and who the heck are former Gov. Reubin Askew and Vice President George Bush? There is one theory that this ennui, first noted in 1976, represents a subcon scious wish to reinvent John F. Kennedy, a candidate through whom the middle aged can recapture fading youth and vigor and the young can feel involved in the affairs of state. Certainly neither Jimmy Carter nor Jerry Ford were able to project that kind of feeling and the only folks who got car ried away in 1980 by Reagan were people whose salad days coincided with the cel luloid collar and the automobile rumble with, and that’s the same group thatj for facial hair. So, we thought somel in the way of a neat mustache-'i look what it did for Errol Flynn.” seat. The problem, of course, is image. Bob Newhart, long before he became a shrink and an innkeeper, used to do a comedy routine in which he played the part of a public relations type giving advice to a political figure of the past. It went something like this: “Abe, I’ve told you over and over, the beard has got to go. And, listen Abe, wear the shawl I sent you. It gives you that homey touch.” It is easy to imagine the same kind of thing with some of the current presiden tial aspirants. For example, here might be Glenn’s “creative consultant” calling the senator: “John, we’ve been brainstorming over here and have a couple of things to run up the flagpole. Now, didn’t they send a monkey into space before you made your flight? How about if we rent an ape and dress him up in a cute space suit and helmet ?” Or this call to the Oval Office: “Mr. President, we’ve got the solution to the gender gap. The polls show it’s the young women you are having trouble Slouch by Jim Ear] l ib 'i “I can see that she’s in loi with you and thinks thatyou ! special in what she’s writto but why did she address it ‘Box Holder’?’’