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About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (July 18, 1984)
Opinion Page 2/The Battalion/Wednesday, July 18, 1984 Raising drinking age federal discrimination Texas lawmakers will face a di lemma when they meet in January — either raise the drinking age to 21 or lose federal highway funds. President Reagan signed the legis lation Tuesday. Any state that doesn’t have a drinking age of 21 by 1987 will lose 5 percent of its interstate highway funds. If it’s not raised by 1988, the state will lose 10 percent. That works out to about a $150 mil lion loss if Texas doesn’t comply. Faced with a choice like that, the state Legislature will almost surely choose the higher drinking age. State Rep. Neeley Lewis, D-Bryan, says he is “violently opposed” to the legislation, but sees no way the state could do without the federal highway aid. “It’s coercion and it’s a poor method for legislation,” Lewis says. But it’s not unprecedented. Con gress chose the same method of inflict ing its will on the states when the speed limit was decreased to 55 mph. The measure is more than federal blackmail — it’s a piece of discrimina tory legislation. A drinking age of 21 discriminates against all adults between the ages of 18 and 21. Anyone old enough to fight and die for their country or to vote is certainly old enough to be allowed to drink. It’s ironic that the federal govern ment can require states to pass dis criminatory laws. The solution to the drunken driving problem is stricter DWI laws and bet ter enforcement of those laws — not increasing the drinking age. Stricter DWI laws would put the punishment where it belongs — on the potential offenders. An entire class of people — college students — shouldn’t be punished. — The Battalion Editorial Board One para cle on page A&M Leg: should have Legislative xas A&M t to rema rrets the t Unite DAYTO lessor and ently becar idwest Even roaches are welcome after travels HOME — After a long journey, a gilded warrior re turns. Home, the place that Simon and Garfunkel promised waited silently for me. I piled out of the ve hicle outfitted for the rigors of West Texas and darted Donn Friedman to the front door of apartment No. 1. I jiggled the door knob trying to en ter the security of my apartment. The door would not open. Fishing into the pockets of my thrice-worn-but-yet-un- washed blue denim jeans, I pulled out my leather Ford key ring. I gently slid the key into the slot and turned the knob. The door opened. Dragging in two weeks worth of West Texas dirty clothes, I kicked the last remnants of the feedlots from my boots. Four years of yell practice with Gi- g’em Aggies and Farmer’s Fight wasn’t enough to send me windin’ down the buckaroo trail to the Fair at Lott to buy a pair of Tony Lamas’. But four weeks with the rattlers and the rabbits on the Texas range was enough to send me at a full gallop to a western wear store in Amarillo. So what if it was a chain store in a mall that could just as easily been in College Station. So what if the boots were on sale —just $59 for high-tops that make my leather high-top Nikes look like topsiders. It was just good to be home and kick my boots off, like the real cowboys do on television. With my boots in my right hand, my camera bag slung over my shoulder and my suitcase in my left, I dragged up the stairs toward my bedroom. The door stood propped open with the tennis shoe that I had left there weeks before. My bath towels — none of which said MOTEL — hung dry over my closet door. A familiar roach scurried away as he saw me arrive, going wherever roaches hide when people are at home. I tossed my suitcase full of dirty clothes in the direction of my laundry bin that overflowed with clothes from my last trip home. I opened my under wear and sock drawer wondering when I would have to wash. Soon, I thought, as I counted one pair of stretched out underwear worn only in emergencies but never on a trip. I wandered downstairs to the re frigerator — nothing of interest ex cept the smell — what could the odor be, or what could it have been. I climbed back up the stairs and slid under the covers of my queen-size bed. How long had it been since I washed my sheets? Too long was the only applicable answer to any civilized person. I checked the box marked n/a and fell asleep. In the midst of a dream involving an old man, a seedless melon, a 72- ounce steak and a burning desire that had nothing to do with beating tu, the light in my room flashed on. “So you’re home again,” Jeff, my roommate, said. We sat up and talked a while of school and women and friends in Turkish prisons. A marble of sweat formed on Jeffs forehead and rolled down his cheek. “I think it’s time we turned on the air conditioner, ” I said. I breathed deeply as the vent came to life blowing cool swirls of air into the putrid mist. I smelled the green fuzzy stuff that grew under the refrig erator and the sweaty mildew that clung to the piles of dirty clothes. I was home. Jim Smiths a force at the poll ller Altoi |iend, the iTuesday. ■ Law ei Scoured we ing Cumb< tory profes the trunk c west side ol Nearby, ■9, and 1 and robbt linister, v Elizabeth’s parmical, harmed se Colemai bra Browr in connect crimes, inc His bli Housea, w left by his him Tues help becai “You’re ki The FB and Brow after steal Donn Friedman is a senior journa lism major and the Battalion’s roving columnist covering the plains of Texas this summer. He has returned to the outback and will File a report from an other quaint hamlet next week. By DICK WEST Columnist for United Press International WASHINGTON — For what,| anything, it might portend for presidential election in November,i| team of Republicans named Jim will play a team of Democrats namd Jim Smith in an all-Jim Smith softh! J. 0 . Harry game Saturday at Boiling Springs,Pa ‘^TcU The starting lineups were sent d ^ as t,eatei me by a presumably non-partisanJiri' Daytoi Smith, who publishes, of all things,;’ Broomfiel Jim Smith newsletter. e ntly kidn No matter how adroit afield: his cartel softballer may be, or how hot abatkfjlj? 0 em:i might swing, no player need apply: {y eelc ^ e ‘ his name is just plain Tom, Dick oil Most War Harry Smith. Only genuine Jin^ Smiths will see action. Ferraro selection shocks Queens native By ART BUCHWALD Columnist for The Los Angeles Times Syndicate Archie Bunker was sitting in his home in Astoria, Long Island, when he saw the news on television that Mondale had chosen Geraldine Fer raro as his running mate. He let out a scream and Edith came rushing in from the kitchen. “What is it, Archie?” Edith asked. “That meathead Mondale has put our Congresswoman Geraldine Fer raro on his ticket as V.P.” “Isn’t that nice,” Edith said. “You would say that. She’s one of your people.” “I’m not Italian, Archie.” “I don’t mean Eyetalian. I got noth ing against Eyetalians. I mean one of your people — a woman.” “It’s about time,” Edith said. “What does a dame know about running the United States of Ameri ca?” “What does a man know about it?” “The vice presidency of the United States has always been reserved for male. The founding fathers of the Constitution wanted it that way.” “There is nothing in the Constitu tion that says a woman can’t be vice president.” “That’s because at the time it was written no one in his right mind could imagine a meathead presidential can didate choosing one. But I’ll bet you if you took a poll of the great men who signed the Declaration of Indepen dence, they would have said ‘No woman vice presedents or we give the country back to England.’” Edith replied, “Mrs. Ferraro is a very smart lady. I rang doorbells for her when she was campaigning for congresswoman.” “You pushed one doorbell too many, and now look what we’ve got. A mother of three who could be a heart beat away from the presidency.” Edith was losing her temper. “We represent more than half the vote and we belong in the seat of power.” “That’s the way your people always think. I knew we was in serious trouble when them women liberators was al lowed to march in the street without the cops shooting tear gas at them.” “I wish you’d stop referring to women as my people,” Edith said. “All right. I’ll call them by their right name — dingbats.” “Archie, you have no right to call a woman vice presidential candidate a dingbat.” “Why not? It’s a free country, isn’t it? Well, I’ll say one thing. Since Mrs. Ferraro represents Astoria and Jack- son Heights, she at least knows some thing about the Third World.” Whether she wins or loses she’s broken the mold once and for all.” Gloria, Archie’s daughter, came rushing in breathlessly. “Mommy, did you hear the news? Mondale chose a woman right here from Queens.” Archie said, “Another dingbat. They’re all coming out of the wood work.” “What’s the matter with Daddy?” Gloria said to Edith. “He’s upset because Mondale chose one of our people as his running mate.” “That’s not very funny, Archie. You should be proud that someone from our own district is running for vice president of the United States. “One of our people?” Gloria said. “Are we related to Mrs. Ferraro?” “No, your father is referring to our sex.” “I can’t believe it, Daddy. You’re liv ing in the stone age.” “Edith is taking my remarks out of context. I got nothing against a woman running a country as long as she stays in India.” The Battalion (ISPS 045 360 Member of Texas Press Association Southwest Journalism Conference The Battalion Editorial Board Rebeca Zimmermann, Editor Bill Robinson, Editorial Page Editor Shelley Hoekstra, City Editor Kathleen Hart, News Editor Travis Tingle, Sports Editor Editorial Policy The Battalion is a non-profit, self-supporting newspaper operated as a community service to Texas A&M and Bryan- Colk ~ "ollege Station. Opinions expressed in The Battalion are those of the ard o resent the opinions of Texas A&M administrators, ily rep- faculty The Battalion Staff ‘sent tne opinions ot . - the Board of Regents. The Battalion also serves as a laboratory newspaper for students in reporting, editing and photography classes within the Department of Communications. United Press International is entitled exclusively to the use for reproduction of all news dispatches credited to it. Rights of reproduction of all other matter herein reserved. Assistant City Editor Robin Black Assistant News Editors Dena Brown, Brigid Brockman, Bonnie Langford Staff Writers Ed Alanis, Kari Fluegel,Bob McGlohon, Sarah Oates Copy Writers Karen Bloch, Cyndy Davis Copy Editor Tracie Holub Photographers Peter Rocha, Eric Evan Lee Letters Policy Letters to the Editor should not exceed 300 words in length. The editorial staff reserves the right to edit letters for style and length but will make every effort to maintain the au thor's intent. Each letter must be signed and must include the address and telephone number of the writer. The Battalion is published Monday through Friday dur ing Texas A&M regular semesters, except for holiday and examination periods. Mail subscripuons are f 16.75 per se mester, $33.25 per school year and $35 per full year. Adver tising rates furnished on reouest. Our address: The Battalion, 216 Reed McDonald Build ing, Texas A&M University, College Station, TX 77843. Second class postage paid at College Station, TX 77843. ACWLVh.M 6AG00AI P/PAlf TURN BMCKW REAGAN APPOimp THAT ANNE3URF0RP... A player may, however, have a 1)1 zarre middle name, or use a differefi first initial, as in B. James Smith,pro vided he doesn’t flaunt it. Personally, I rather doubt the oui come of a six-inning softball garat even with a Jim Smith at every tion, will presage very much f cally. Of more import, if vaudevt ever makes a comeback, might be tilt impact on the old “Who’s on f routine. I can tell you, however, that ac) presidential candidate who ignorestlit Jim Smith vote does so at his otti peril. At last count, the Jim Smith Socien which is sponsoring the softball game had 1,240 members. That figure, ol course, does not include the vast nun ber of closet Jim Smiths who arelurl ing about omniwheres. All together, they add up to a coo siderable political potential. Considering all the hoopla that at tended Walter Mondale’s selectionoh running'mate, I was a little surprise: the Democrats didn’t put a Jim S on the ticket as a vice presidential cao didate. Taking nothing away from I dale’s choice, Geraldine Ferraro ply doesn’t have the ring to it that Jiff Smith has. Nor would it necessaril' have been a sexist nomination. I am told that one of the Jim Smith 1 attending the 1981 gathering at Boi ing Springs was a woman. Had Moo dale put out the word, there probabi' would have been a dozen or morefr male Jim Smiths showing up forintetj views. They wouldn’t have come froff Congress, however. Of the six Smith currently serving in the House, onH one, Rep. Virginia Smith, R-Neb.,is , j woman. Although definitely of tb'< right gender, she has an unsuitabl' first name as well as the wrong affiliation. There aren’t any Jims, not to so'[ gems, among male Smiths in tiff House either. Chris, Bob and Denny Smith ah like Virginia, Republicans. Rep Larry Smith and Neal Smith, whih sufficiently Democratic, lack fir* 1 name creditability. If I were a presidential candidate ! would not miss this opinion surveyiif opportunity. For there may betruthi* the old maxim that “as Jim Smith goe^ so goes the nation.”