The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current, September 24, 1984, Image 2

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    Opinion
Page 2/The Battalion/Monday, September 24, 1984
■
Stop, look, listen;
trains are killers
Look both ways before you cross the tracks.
That seems like a common-sense thing to do. But what if
when you look, you can’t see anything? Look closer.
Since late Thursday night, two Texas A&M students have
been killed in car-train accidents. It seems more than coin
cidence that both accidents occurred at the same crossing — on
Luther Street — a dirt road just south of Jersey Street, near
campus.
The Luther Street crossing is poorly marked. The only
warning sign a driver heading east could possibly see is obscured
by a tree; there are no flashing lights and gate. But is this cross
ing really more dangerous than any other?
The engineer who was driving the train Friday said the
whole stretch of track adjacent to A&M is hazardous. All train
crossings — especially ones with daily traffic such as the strip
near A&M — need adequate markings. The city needs to make
sure that any crossings — such as the one at Luther Street —
that aren’t adequately marked are either closed or corrected.
But, marked or not, too often drivers fly over railroad tracks
without thinking or looking. It’s important to slow down and
look before crossing any railroad tracks. If you don’t, the few
seconds you save might not do you any good.
The Battalion Editorial Board
MfiWFs cmep oop m on wr m
iwtSHt F&Tommp w RmsreR „,
i
c
I v
1 1
I c
Candidates want
forgiveness, votes
Photographers are strange breed
Hooked on pictures
By DAVID BRODER
Washington Post Columnist
PORTLAND, Ore. - Forgiveness is
not the quality that candidates usually
seek to evoke from their constituents.
Approval and enthusiasm are what in
cumbents commonly hope to arouse;
anger and discontent are the emotions
challengers try to stir.
But tnis year, President Reagan and
his opponent, Walter F. Mondale, are
trying, in their own ways, to seek for
giveness - at least, in this early stage of
the game.
Indeed, the first four words of the
first speech of the Presidents’s general
election campaign were: “You will for
give me . . .”
They always have, as Rep. Pat Sch-
roeder (D-Colo.) commented ruefully in
her classic description of Reagan’s “Tef
lon-coated” presidency — one to which
no criticism sticks.
In this campaign, Reagan and his
managers are hoping the voters will for
give and forget a great many of the poli
cies and personalities that stirred con
troversy in the past 44 months.
People like James Watt, Anne Bur-
ford and Alexander Haig, whose very
names were enough to stir angry de
bate, have mostly been dropped over
board.
While pointing with pride to his re
cord in reducing inflation, boosting real
income and slashing taxes, Reagan
would like people to forget the worst re
cession in 50 years, the growth in offi
cially counted families in poverty and
the quantum leap in the size of the an
nual federal deficits.
He would also like them to forget the
fiasco of Lebanon policy — and the lives
the Marines lost there.
On the other side of the political
street, the Mondale campaign’s search
for forgiveness is alternately stark and
subtle.
Mondale would most like people to
forget his role as Jimmy Carter’s vice
president, and the legacy that adminis
tration left of inflation, economic stag
nation and captive hostages. He would
like farmers to forget grain embargoes;
home-buyers, double-digit interest
rates; and everyone, “malaise.”
In conversations this week with two
senior Mondale aides and advisers,
Mondale’s chance of success was linked
directly to getting the voters to feel
“comfortable” with him as he is.
A top Mondale operative in Califor
nia said that the state registration drive,
aimed at adding half-a-million low-in-
come and minority men and women to
the voting rolls, would not be enough,
nor would Mondale’s challenge to Rea
gan’s environmental, education and
arms-control policies, unless swing vot
ers get “comfortable” with Mondale.
“They don’t have to like him,” he said.
“They like (vice-presidential candidate)
Gerry Ferraro, and they like Gary Hart,
who’s giving us ten days of campaign
time in California. All they have to do is
get past feeling uncomfortable about
Mondale.”
Another Mondale adviser with Illi
nois roots said he was not counting on
Mondale’s strength to carry that state.
“Harold Washington (the Chicago
mayor) and Eddie Vrdolyak (the Cook
County Democratic chairman and critic
of Washington) both have their own
reasons to turn out the votes in the black
and ethnic wards they control,” this man
said.
Forgive Ronald Reagan for his blund
ers and for his friends, the Republicans
seem to be saying. Forgive Fritz Mon
dale for his history and his blandness,
the Democrats implore.
It is a curious campaign.
The Battalion
USPS 045 360
Member of
Texas Press Association
Southwest Journalism Conference
In memoriam
Bill Robinson, 1962-1984, Editor
The Battalion Editorial Board
Stephanie Ross, Acting Editor
Patrice Koranek, Managing Editor
Shelley Hoekstra, City Editor
Brigid Brockman, News Editor
Donn Friedman, Editorial Page Editor
Bonnie Langford, News Editor
Ed Cassavoy, Sports Editor
Letters Polio
Editorial Policy
The Battalion is a non-profit, self-supporting
newspaper operated as a community service
to Texas A&M and Bryan-College Station.
s folicy
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 num
ber of the writer.
The Battalion is published Monday
through Friday during Texas A&M regular
semesters, except for holiday and examina
tion 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. Editorial stair
number: (409) 845-2630. Advertising: (409) 845-2611.
Second class postage paid at College Station, TX 77843.
Opinions expressed in The Battalion are
those of the Editorial Board or the author,
and do not necessarily represent the opinions
of Texas A&M administrators, faculty or the
Board of Regents.
The Battalion also serves as a laboratory
newspaper for students in reporting, editing
and photography classes within the Depart
ment of Communications.
phone
“I am a photographer.”
The first time I admitted to myself that
I was hooked on cameras and film and de- p
veloper I felt like an confessed alcoholic. r cier
And for good reason. Rocha
Photography takes up more money ”
and time than most people realize. The little profit that I
make from my three photography related jobs goes right
back into buying equipment. Toss in 15 hours of classes
(oops, had to drop a class so make that 12 hours) on top of
that and you’ve got one busy shutterbug.
It’s not exactly great for my social life. For the last three
years or so my steady date to football games, midnight yell
practices, concerts, and speeches has been a Nikon FM. Peo
ple occasionally stare at me and my camera like a wino and his
little brown paper bag. I guess we do sometimes look a bit out
of place.
If other people take pictures socially, you know, like at
parties and stuff, no one ever really notices them. But those
of us who just kind of turn up places with camera in hand and
take pictures of strangers...well, it’s like drinking alone.
I need it though and I’ve never denied that. I get nervous
if I can’t pick up a camera every day. Sometimes I just have to
make a print or develop some film. Gotta have that photo
graphic fix.
Just before a football game I’m so hyped, so thirsty for it,
you just couldn’t believe it. I get to the game at least an hour
before kick-off and eat and try to relax with the other shoot
ers. But I’m not really comfortable until I start that first roll.
After that I’m okay.
You see it’s not really a job; it’s more of a lifestyle. Pint of
all, I keep terrible hours. During a regular work week 1 sleep
an average of about six hours a night. Secondly I eat moit
meals at stadiums, in my car, or in the darkroom than at
home. Most working photographers can tell you what kind of
food you can expect in each stadium press box.
But worst of all I look at everything as if it were a picture.
Sometimes I stop and stare at things, maybe walk aroundita
little bit, and see a picture there. Other people pass by and
don’t see a thing.They’re my pink elephants.
I can even look at things through different kinds of eyes.
I can zoom in on things, blocking out all unnecessary things
around it like a telephoto lens. Or I can take in everything
like a wide angle lens.
So I’ll just have to continue to hang around with other
photo bums in our film infested skid-row. They can under
stand me because they’ve all gone through the same things.
But I wish people could understand my special problem.
I am a photographer hot just a guy who takes pictures.
Peter Rocha is a senior English major, a Battalion andAg-
gieland photographer, and lab assistant for photojournalism
classes.
\
Is 1984 finally the year of the Cubs?
By ART BUCHWALD
Columnist for The Los Angeles Times Syndicate
George Will, the columnist, and I
used to be friends. When it came to poli
tics we didn’t always agree, but it never
interfered in our social relationship.
What broke up the friendship was base
ball — the Chicago Cubs to be exact.
George is a Chicago Cubs fan, a mem
ber of the very, very small band of
brothers and sisters who year after year
took pride in rooting for a team that
had been in the cellar so many times the
Preservation Society on Monuments
had declared it a National Fall Out Shel
ter.
George’s charm was that he believed
in the Cubs, who hadn’t won a pennant
since 1945. Every spring he would tell
anyone who listened how the Cubs
would rise from the ashes and regain
their rightful place in baseball. To our
credit those of us who understood base
ball never put George down. We always
humored him and said, “Sure, George.
This is the Cubs’ year.”
Whenever the Cubs won a game dur
ing the postwar years George consid
ered it a religious experience. One time
the team was only 63 games out of first
place during the middle of the season,
and George had it figured out that if ev
ery other team in the National League
lost every one of its games the Cubs
could win the pennant. As a believer in
lost causes George was in a class by him
self.
Whether Will’s faith in the Chicago
Cubs affected his judgment concerning
the political subjects he wrote about was
something we never questioned. We just
assumed that Will was able to separate
his emotional attachment to the Cubs
from his trenchant commentary. Except
for his quirk about baseball, George
makes as much sense as any conserva
tive commentator in the town.
But something happened to Will this
year. For reasons that no one can ex
plain, the lowly Cubs started winning.
As they started climbing up in their
division George became more morose
and nervous. He was short-tempered
and bitter. He refused to discuss base
ball and pretended he wasn’t interested
in the pennant race.
When he wasn’t around we discussed
his sudden change in personality.
One of the pundits had a theory. “I
don’t think George is able to deal with
success. He’s so used to the Cubs losing
that he can’t live with the possibility that
they may go all the way. After 41 years
of being a loser he can’t accept the fact
that he might become a winner.”
“It’s even more than that,” a Yankee
supporter said. “Cub fans took pride in
supporting a team that rarely won a
game. They enjoyed playing the role of
the underdog. If the Cubs go to the
World Series there will be nothing
unique about them. The fans also resent
the fact that after so many years of be
ing shunned and laughed at, everyone is
now jumping on the Cub bandwagon.
Their privacy has been invaded. The) 1
lived in a fantasy world for so long that
it’s no fun when their fantasy has come
true.”
I decided to have a talk with Will
“George,” I said, “all your friends are
talking about you. You’re not the same
person you were before the baseball sea
son started. We believe the Cub winning
streak has gotten to you.”
“Maybe it has and maybe it hasn’t."
“You can’t be mad at everybodyjui
because the Cubs aren’t losing. You’ve
got to come to terms with the fact that
they are winners. It was Vince Lorn
bardi who said ‘Losing isn’t everything-
it’s the only thing.’”
“Lombardi was never a Cub fan,” Will
replied.
“That’s neither here nor there. You
should be happy your team is on top
You stayed in the cellar with them all
these years. You now have every rightto
enjoy their success. We don’t begrudge
them winning, why should you?”
“I don’t think it’s anybody’s business.'
“But your attitude is affecting your
work.”
“How so?”
“Just the other day you wrote that
Reagan would probably win the elec
tion. No one in his right mind would
make a prediction like that unless he
had truly lost his marbles.”