■
p
Page 2/The Battalion/Friday, January 30, 1987
Opinion
The Battalion
(USPS 045 360)
Member of
Texas Press Association
Southwest Journalism Conference
The Battalion Editorial Board
Loren Steffy, Editor
Marybeth Rohsner, Managing Editor
Mike Sullivan, Opinion Page Editor
Jens Koepke, City Editor
Jeanne Isenberg, Sue Krenek, News Editors
Homer Jacobs, Sports Editor
Tom Ownbey, Photo Editor
Editorial Policy
The Battalion is a non-profit, self-supporting newspaper oper
ated as a community service to Texas A&M and Bryan-College Sta
tion.
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 Journalism.
The Battalion is published Monday through Friday during
Texas A&M regular semesters, except for holiday and examination
periods.
Mail subscriptions are $17.44 per semester, $34.62 per school
year and $36.44 per full year. Advertising rates furnished on re
quest.
Our address: The Battalion, Department of Journalism, Texas
A&M University, College Station, TX 77843-41 1 1.
Second class postage paid at College Station, TX 77843.
POSTMASTER: Send address changes to The Battalion, De
partment of Journalism, Texas A&M University, College Station
TX 77843-4111.
Gentlemen!;, ue are fast approaching, a crisis!
THE NUMBERS ARE JUST MOT AM>ING UP-' I BELIEVE
THAT TEXAS WILL BE FORCED TO RESORT TO A LOTTERY'
l
NO ... A lottery
FOR EARLY RELEASE
OF TDC IN (MATES!
A LOTTERY TO HELP BALANCE THE STATE:
BUDGET?
P-e-r-m-a-n-e-n-t
Gov. Bill Clements is considering siphoning off crucial capital
gains from the Permanent University Fund to help combat the pro
jected state budget deficit. But in his zealous attempt to fix Texas’
economic troubles, Clements has ignored a key aspect of the PUF —
it’s supposed to be permanent.
Clements is mulling over the possibility of redirecting capital
gains from regular sales of investment stocks and securities by the
Permanent University Fund to other state funds.
The state’s “gain” would then be used for some of the problem
budget areas — excluding higher education, of course. But the pur
pose of the PUF is to create money-generating investments as a
source of revenue for Texas A&M and the University of Texas. By
depleting these funds, Clements is advocating a threat to higher edu
cation over less popular budget-crisis solutions such as a tax increase.
| “1 he
brli'P
deni 1
peech I
his in N
.91’’. “
vay of
>f l»e\
;oniinu
voulcl I
angle <
This
Lthnic <
ays Lo
tnd ch;
\on-pi<
l Cell''
vould I
ruage c
kates o
“We
,mage 1
angii.n
‘for we
ipu" 1
:ans ai
HOt ho.
pZaeW
lie ALC
A&M grad with no place to go
elieve
olds oi
ble to
unei u;
e pi oi
sm, tr
Undoubtedly, much of the newly appropriated money would go
toward financing the construction of badly needed state prisons.But
locking up more criminals in newly built prisons means locking more
students out of state universities. In essence, higher education will
suffer for crimes along with the criminals.
Clements plan to tap higher education funding is nothing more
than a proposal at this point. But waving the succulent monies of the
PUF under the Legislature’s nose and asking permission to dig in is
dangerous.
Money needs to be appropriated to remedy the prison crisis, but
draining higher education’s lifeblood isn’t a feasible solution.When
PUF money is used for things other than higher education, it’s logi
cal that higher education and all involved with higher education will
suffer. Cuts in valuable programs, faculty and staff, and ultimately
student pocketbooks, will pay for state problems.
More dangerous than the actual loss to Texas higher education is
the precedent such a measure would set. The capital in the PUF was
designed to be untouchable, to ensure that no matter how bad the
economy got, Texas would have a financial base for higher educa
tion. Texas cannot afford to dip into this vital holding any time it is
faced with a financial crisis. Without money to preserve the quality of
Texas education, future budgetary havoc only can increase.
Texas has been striving for greater quality in education. Progress
has been made, but much remains to be done. Cutting funding now
only will impair educational integrity later.
Why doesn’t the state government do what’s really needed to
cover the deficit and either institute a state income tax or raise taxes
in general? It may not be popular, and it may not get anyone re
elected, but it will solve the budget problem better than anything else
proposed so far.
Either way, the PUF shouldn’t be part of a Clements’ budgetary
quick fix. The PUF vital flow of revenue to A&M and UT was never
designed to be drained or tapped into to fund other programs.
That’s why it’s called permanent.
This is it. The
semester I’ve been
waiting for — my
last one. This is
my semester to
share with every
one the fact that
I’m graduating in
May. It’s my turn
to politely ask,
“Have you seen
my ring?” as I
shove it in the per
il that this University has prepared me
for? I know the correct answer is to be
the boss, but I’m not convinced the mar
ketplace has an opening for me yet.
son’s face. This is my semester to be the
smug senior who asked, “What about
graduating seniors?” when the profes
sor talked about the final during the
first week of class.
But, believe it or not, there is a draw
back. There is one thing I hate about
graduating. The one inevitable question
I hear from parents, friends, relatives
and enemies in response to all my gloat
ing about graduating in four years. “Do
you have a job yet?”
I’ve always enjoyed looking through
the want ads, especially the job listings. I
like to see what types of jobs are avail
able and pick those that 1 might to able
to apply for and get. Unfortunately, 1
don’t find many. I couldn’t even apply
for a job as a secretary because my typ
ing is horrible. All journalism students
have to take a typing test and an English
test before they are allowed to take any
reporting classes. I passed my English
test with no problem, but I failed the
typing test three times. It’s a terrible re
alization to believe the only job you’re
qualified for is the G&S Cough Study
because you’ve been sick all week. Of
course, a person can’t make a living test
ing experimental cough syrup. Maybe I
can get a job in Brenham testing experi
mental Blue Bell ice cream.
out there who are saying, “Well, s ' t , I I
don’t you go to the placement ante jE ie
Let me remind you that I’m a jo. | u h
lism major, not an engineering or : Statue i
ness major. 1 agree the placement (tier 100
ter does help a lot of students find;:? 3 " *, rt
but it doesn’t help many journalism
J ors - Hrati
Another advantage that engineeringske
and business majors have is thatcoir/T 13 ' 1
nies actively recruit graduatingstudd ,u ^
in those majors from this Universitu n t i u .
ery time I look in The Batfai/ontherforni a
another huge ad begging engineeiuwas tin
computer science and business ma^rop 1
to bid for an interview with a cefliff 11110 . 1
company. I have yet to see an ad
“A JOB?” I gasp in horror. “You
mean I’m already supposed to have a
job lined up?”
That’s impossible. I might be grad
uating in May, but I still don’t have the
slightest idea what I want to do to earn a
living. When I started here as a fresh
man, everyone told me I would have
plenty of time to decide what I wanted
to do with the rest of my life. They lied.
Four years go by quickly.
I feel like Allie from the TV show
“Kate & Allie.” In this week’s episode,
Allie graduated from college with a de
gree in art history and couldn’t find a
job. She finally found a position selling
rock art posters, but was fired after she
insulted one of the customers. Now Al-
lie’s working in a movie theater selling
tickets, but she has high hopes for ad
vancement.
And that’s not even the worst of it.
The real question is, “Am I qualified to
do anything?” I’ve often wondered what
This episode was far from encourag
ing. I hope I have more to look forward
to after graduation than a job in Dil
lard’s china department. Does anyone
really ever shop in there?
ging me, a journalism student, to pla ; jf lc ^
apply for a job with a top 10 compaiHshed i
or even with a bottom 10 company, acial I
Of course, my own departmentdo®j
help graduating seniors find jobs, as
we even have our own job board. Asi
yesterday, I counted nine job listic;
and three part-time jobs available!
students. That’s not very encouraw
considering our department^
roughly 535 students, out of whij
more than 50 have applied foradep
check in hopes of graduating in Mav
Despite the odds, I haven’t given
After all, this is my semester. I keep!
lieving this will be the magic semes
when everything will fall into pW
Maybe I’ll have a vision in my Sociolo
of Sport class that will show me e«
what I’ll be doing in four months."’
my luck, I’ll probably miss class one(-
and the vision will go to somebodyelsf
Now I know there are some of you
Jo Streit is a senior journalism ttif
and a columnist /or The Battalion.
Security is never answering phones
The computer
terminal I write on
has a row of eight
little lights on the
side, most of
which I ignore.
One bulb, though,
lights frequently.
It says “Message
Waiting” and I al
ways answer it
with alacrity. This
is because I had a
Richard
Cohen
tough time in high school.
Please understand. Most of these
messages are not for me. They are sent
to everyone in the computer system to
announce something like the deadline
for United Way contributions. These
messages are electronic junkmail. Nev
ertheless, I notice that most of my col
leagues hit the “Call Message” key as the
“Message Waiting” button lights up, just
the way I do.
But I have also noticed that some of
my colleagues pay no attention at all to
the “Message Waiting” light. They just
continue writing or talking and then, in
their own good time, call for the mes
sage. I have gone around the newsroom
mentally making a list of these people. I
hate them one and all.
I hate them because I think they are
among the most secure people on Earth.
I think they are the same people who
can let a phone ring. They are the ones
who know, because it has been their ex
perience, that the caller will call back.
They know that they will always be
wanted. They know all this because they
were popular in high school, which is,
Sigmund Freud’s emphasis on infancy
notwithstanding, the crucial formative
period in life. Everything after high
school is, well, more high school.
It is because of high school, because
of a social-sexual life that was only infre
quently social and never sexual, that I
must answer a phone or (the high-tech
variation) my “Call Message” button.
Who knows? It could be an invitation to
a party. It could be a compliment for
something I wrote.
Or it could be a message from Linda
— wonderful Linda with the long, dark
hair who could play the guitar and knew
the lyrics to salacious folk songs. That
Linda! The Linda of my youth who
never called, or, if she did, I was out.
(There were no answering machines
then, folks.)
In most of us, the urge to answer the
phone is so great that it accounts for our
willingness to be treated rudely. For in
stance, it is common to wait patiently in
line while the clerk takes a call from
someone who has not been waiting at
all. Ask yourself why someone who has
not been waiting should take prece
dence over someone who has. Ask your
self further why you don’t protest.
In fact, to digress for a moment, I
wonder what the contemporary versions
of the high-school Richard Cohen do
now. I, at least, never knew whether the
call I was yearning for came while I was
out. I could imagine it had. I could
imagine the look on Linda’s beautiful
face. The smile as she dialed. Her antic
ipation as the phone rang. The look of
disappointment when there was no an
swer. The grimace as she realized I was
out with someone else. How could she
know I was taking out the garbage?
Anyway, I had no answering ma
chine, so I just stayed close to the phone,
sometimes just staring at it. I tried to will
it to ring. “Okay, by the time I count to
10, Linda will call. One, two, three ...
Nothing. (What do Simon and Garfun-
kel know about the sounds of silence?)
Later, I even got an answering service
on a trial basis, but that was worse than
not getting any calls at all. It got so I
could not face the message operator and
her “Still no messages, Mr. Cohen,” re
frain. Things were so bad I took to leav
ing messages ft>r myself, a mental illness
that has yet to be categorized.
I’ll tell you why. It’s because long ago,
say around your sophomore year, you
developed a neurotic relationship with
the telephone. You know that it cannot
be allowed to ring. Like Pavlov’s dog,
you simply react to the bell. The stimu
lus is the fear that a loved one is calling;
the reality is that it is an insurance
agent.
I, for one, have had nervous break
downs while on the back porch, fum
bling for my keys as I hear the phone
ringing. Had Dante written his “Infer
no” today, he would have made Hell the
place where you constantly run for the
phone only to hear it go “click” as you
answer.
But there are, I tell you, people who
know that the loved one will call back.
They are the same people who wait to
respond to their “Message Waiting”
light. That’s because the true loved ones
are not the ones calling, but the ones
getting the calls. They are the secure
people of this Earth, the ones who had a
happy time in high school, the ones who
wouldn’t dream of asking for whom the
bell tolls. For these people, there will al
ways be a message waiting.
Copyright 1986, Washington Post
Writers Group
Mail Call
Notsurpirsed
EDITOR:
I’ve just finished reading Mike Sullivan’s column concerning the Corps. Fif
of all, I would like to ask Sullivan how it is that, at a university of A&M’ssize,a
small group such as the Corps can determine the reputation of the school? Do'
mean to inform me that the 34,500 other students here can’t do anything to
compete with the Corps? If this University is to truly be “world-class” (whatevei
that is), it seems to me that 95 percent of the student population should beabk
handle it.
I also would like to ask Sullivan just how many cadets choose to be
commissioned? It probably will surprise him. (Do research before you write,
Sullivan.)
The Corps has many valuable things to offer students, not only here, but
afterward.
If A&M’s image is indeed a military one, I believe we have all the resources
necessary to change it. Why haven’t we? Maybe Sullivan and the 34,499 others'
figure that out.
Michael G. McLean ’86
Editor’s note: Nowhere in the column was the term “world-class” used. Tfc
uinn did refer to A&M’s goal of attaining status as “world” university, and/ 1
context, the term “world university” was defined. The writer was accurate^
ing that more cadets do not get commissions than do.
An open mind?
EDITOR:
While I am not sure exactly where I stand on the issue of abolishing theC« 1 '
of Cadets, I am sure of one thing: a young aspiring journalism major by thetf 1
of Mike Sullivan took a stand on an issue in which he believed. For this, best#
receive, if not commendation, at least some respect and open-mindedness.
In his column, Sullivan made some very interesting points to which I—
I’m sure many other students — was ignorant.
Apparently, the A&M Corps of Cadets and the ROTC program are two
separate entities.
We, the students, must ask ourselves this question: after graduation,do^
want to be seen as having attended a militarily-oriented institution (as is A&M
reputation abroad), or do we wish to be known as graduates who havecorapk
rigorous course of study at an up-and-coming university?
Edward Abdelnour ’88
Letters to the editor should not exceed 300 words in length. The editorial staff reserves the right to edit
and length, but will make every effort to maintain the author's intent. Each letter must be signed and musl 1 "
classification, address and telephone number of the writer.