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About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (Jan. 18, 1988)
Page 2/The Battalion/Monday, January 18, 1988 Opinion I The many, the proud, the burglarizedG Ooooooh, those dang burglars. Even in our be loved thriving metroplex of Bryan-College Station those dang burglars abound. The last I heard from Mike George (a.k.a. The Man On The Scene from Channel 3), there were about nine billion burglaries in B-CS during Christmas. Give or take a few. And like many of you, I have first hand knowledge of this vicious crime spree. Yes, I too was one of the many. The proud. The burglarized. I suppose being burglarized can be very traumatic. That is, if you own any thing of quasi-value. I own nothing of value. For example, before the burglary my net worth consisted of: • One pair of socks, holes included • One jar of generic, super-smooth peanut butter • One game of Trivial Pursuit (played only once — honest) • One gumball machine nix the gum My net worth now consists of: • One pair of socks, holes mys teriously darned • One jar of generic, super-smooth peanut butter • One game of Trivial Pursuit One of my roommates had his VCR stolen; my other roommate had all his clothes stolen. I had my gumball ma chine stolen. That’s what I get for hav ing nothing of value. The thing that made me the maddest, though, was not that some burglars broke into my place, threw stuff around, and searched my dusty Trivial Pursuit game for loot, but that I had been burglarized by the world’s stupi dest burglars. Case in point: see the nice expensive stereo in the living room. See the nice, portable compact disc player in the liv ing room. See the nice, inviting tele vision in the living room (I own none of Mark Nair Learn to love the thrill of kicking machines Mike Royko The guy in front of me put his coin in the coffee machine. The cup dropped, the ma chine whirred, but nothing came out. He muttered, then started to walk away looking dejected and em barrassed. That’s the way many peo ple react when a machine doesn’t come through: as if they have been outwitted. They feel foolish. “Aren’t you going to do anything about it?” I asked. “What’s there to do?” What a question. If he had gone in a bar and ordered a beer, and if the bar tender had taken his money but not given him a beer, he’d do something. He’d yell or fight or call the police. But he let a machine cow him. “Kick it,” I said. “What good will that do?” he said. “You’ll feel better,” I said. He came back and go into position to kick it, but I stopped him. “Not like that. You are going to kick it with your toe, but you can hurt yourself that way. Do it this way.” I stepped back and showed him the best way. You use the bottom of your foot, as if you’re kicking in a bedroom door. I stepped aside, and he tried it. The first time he used the ball of his foot. It was a weak effort. “Use more of the heel,” I suggested. That did it. He gave it two good ones and the machine bounced. He has big feet. “With feet like that,” I told him, “you could knock over a sandwich machine.” He stepped back looking much more self-confident. Somebody else who had been in line said: “I prefer pounding on it. I’ll show you. Leaning on it with his left hand, he put his forehead close to the machine, as if in deep despair. Then he pounded with his clenched fist. “Never use the knuckles,” he said, “because that hurts. Use the bottom of the fist, the way you’d pound on the tab le.” “Why just one fist?” someone else said. “I always use two.” He demonstrated, standing close to the machine, baring his teeth, and pounding with both fists, as if trying to break down a bedroom door with his hands. Just then, another guy stepped up. Seeing us pounding on the machine, he asked: “Is it out of coffee?” We told him it had shorted on a cup. He hesitated, then said: “Sometimes it only skips one, then it works OK.” “It’s your money,” I told him. He put in his quarter, the cup dropped, the machine whirred, and nothing came out. All he said was “Hmm,” and started to walk away. “Why don’t you kick it?” I said. He grimaced, “It’s only two bits.” Only? I don’t know anyone who hasn’t been cheated by a machine at least once — usually a lot more than once. First it was the gumball machine, tak ing your last penny. Then it was the gum machine on the L platform. Then the peanut machine. And now they all do it. Coffee ma chines, soft-drink machines, candy ma chines, sweet-roll machines, sandwich machines. Only two bits? There are more than 200 million Americans. If each of us is taken for a quarter, that adds up to $50 million. And it has to be more, now that ma chines have appeared in every factory and office, depot and terminal. I once lost an entire dollar to a dol- lar-changing machine. I gave it five kicks, and even that wasn’t enough; for a dollar, I should have broken a chair over its intake slot. If everyone in the country is taken for a dollar, as I suspect we all will be eventually, that’s more than $200 mil lion. The empty cup is a giant industry. Putting up a note, as many people do, saying, “This machine owes me a quarter,” does little good. The men who service them always arrive before you get to work, or after you leave. They are ashamed to face the people they cheat. You can put up a note saying, “Out of coffee,” which saves other people from losing their dimes. But that doesn’t get you i dime back. The answer is to kick and punch them. If you are old, lame or female, bring a hammer to work with you, or an axe. I feel better, having got this off my chest. But my foot still hurts. Copyright 1987, Tribune Media Services, Inc. The Battalion (USPS 045 360) Member of Texas Press Association Southwest Journalism Conference The Battalion Editorial Board Sue Krenek, Editor Daniel A. LaBry, Managing Editor Mark Nair, Opinion Page Editor Amy Couvillon, City Editor Robbyn L. Lister and Becky Weisenfels, News Editors Loyd Brumfield, Sports Editor Sam B. Myers, Photo Editor Editorial Policy TTje Battalion is a non-profit, self-supporting newspaper oper ated as a community service to Texas A&M and Bryan-College Station. Opinions expressed in The Battalion are those of the editorial board or the author, and do not necessarily represent the opin ions of Texas A&M administrators, faculty or the Board of Re gents. The Battalion also serves as a laboratory newspaper for stu dents in reporting, editing and photography classes within the Department of Journalism. The Battalion is published Monday through Friday during Texas A&M regular semesters, except for holiday and examina tion 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, 216 Reed McDonald, Texas A&M University, College Station, TX 77843-4 111. Second class postage paid at College Station, TX 77843. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to The Battalion, 216 Reed McDonald, Texas A&M University, College Station TX 77843-4111. the above. I own nothing). See that ev erything is still there. Wow. Burglar #1: after entering the du plex, leaving the twisted carnage of the patio door lock writhing on the floor be hind him. Golly, Ace, (NOTE: All bur glars have names such as Ace, Slick, Fast Eddie, or Melvin) There sure is a lot of neat stuff around here. Help me load up this jar of super-smooth peanut but ter. Oh, wow, and let’s get the CD player, and the stereo, and the TV, and oh boy! Burglar #2: Posh, Melvin. Forget such trivalities. Here is a prime time to appropriate a wonderful gumball ma chine. It is within our grasp. Do not tarry. Burglar #1: Golly, Ace, I should have thought of that. Stupid me. Second case in point: (I own none of the following. I own nothing.; See three remote controls — one for the stereo, one for the VCR, one for the television. Now see two remote controls— one for the VCR and one for the television. Where is the VCR? It is gone. Where is the stereo? It is here. Smart. Take the wrong remote control. Smart. Burglar #1: Boy, Ace, remote con trols. Boy. Burglar #2: Verily, Melvin, it would be best to borrow these items for our home entertainment system. Let us ap propriate the VCR and a remote con trol. Burglar #1: You want I should grab the remote control for the VCR? Burglar #2: Negative, my fellow scofflaw and iniquitous malefactor. Snarf the remote for the stereo. That way it will surely be an exorbitant de mur for us to operate it with precision. Burglar #1: And should we take the box of blank checks that are here on the desk? Burglar #2: I scoff at your attempts at petty theft. Of course we will leave the checks but instead gather the prodi gious amount of raiment in the closet here. Burglar #1: You mean the clothes? What’ll the guy wear? Burglar #2: Burlap often makes for particularly choosy attire. Ace combs his hair and shakes off the excess 10-W40 to the floor. He grimj tarter-control grin. Burglar # 1: Gee, it sure is greatbei:,Qp pj the world’s stupidest burglars. W'-'' Burglar #2: Indubitably. flfP From our burglary, though,cy''“ ,l roommates and I have gained valuaMT L knowledge of the criminal mind, andiU | L have taken the appropriate measure Now, 569 million volts of pure, shod:, current are now flowing around o® doors and windows. Eight Dobentrajj pinschers make their rounds aroundWThe duplex every hour on the hour. Wc tinue t placed machine gun nests strategici* ni 1 111 near entrances and exits and have:®;!.™ lowed the bacon in the refrigerator^^] j decay into nuclear waste. ■ rn f decay into nuclear waste. ilrof No one’s getting in this time. Buis fhe someone does, that burglar had bettrH m be pretty dang smart, <>i I'm calling,^’ 1 '/ 1 Schwarzenegger. e . I ] e ( ' And then you really know 1 nie ; the R business. 1^’e n we ai Mark Nair is a senior political scieiQearl major and opinion page editor iorTl Anu r Battalion. . . .b , Grc Ban-1 Mail Call Hush the band EDITOR: As avid fans of the Texas A&M’s men’s basketball team, we are annoyed by the largely unappreciated noise being blasted in our ears by the Fightin’ Texas Aggie Band. Call us two-percenters, but when we go to a game (and we go to all of the games), we come to cheer our team to victory, not to be blown away by decibels of destruction. Remember, it’s quality, not quantity that makes a fine band. If you think we are ungrateful Aggie students, take a look at the former students’ section and notice the members of Old Army cov ering their ears. The purpose of a band is to stir up the crowd, not to mute our senses. If you think we are suggesting that the Aggie Band should not play at basketball games, you’re right. Would it be possible for one of our quality university jazz bands to perform regularly at the games? We are not suggesting this is a new idea, but it is a good one. We knov some of you die-hard traditionalists will claim this will de stroy the very foundation that makes this university whatii is. But get it straight. Marching bands play at football games, jazz bands play at basketball games, and nobodv plays at a baseball game (two out of three ain’t bad, but 67 percent is still a D). If you think this idea reeks of Karl Pal- Imeyer Liberalism, a smaller subset of the Aggie Band would suffice. Anyway, they take up too many of the good seats. ’I Robert Martin ’87 Lynn Foster ’87 Letters to the editor should not exceed 300 words in length. The editorial staff rt- serves the right to edit letters for style and length, but will make every effort to main tain the author’s intent. Each letter must be signed and must include the classifica tion, address and telephone number of the writer. Now is the time for all good Ags to protest I was a kid when student pro test in America hit its peak. I hear and read stories about the 1 968 Democratic Con vention, Kent Ken Gleason Guest Columnist State, Woodstock, draft card burnings, and the many other sit-ins, walkouts, marches and riots that took place in the “hippie” era. Today, college students at A&M are much too apathetic. No one seems to have a cause to protest for these days. To many students here at A&M, the only concerns are sex, alcohol, money, and the next test. Of course, there are students here who have a cause, which they will even fight or protest for. But their problem is that to get a good reac tion from a protest it needs to touch home and actually affect people. What we need around here is an old-fash ioned, traditional protest. If you have an interest in becoming a part of the great tradition of protest,then there are a few basic pointers you should follow: 1. You need a cause. You can use a popular one such as divestment in South Africa, or you can make one up. It doesn’t really matter as long as it pleases you. It could vary from excess faculty drug use (pro or con) to financial support for ice cube farmers in Brazos Valley. 2. You need a name or a slogan. You want something that will catch the stu dent’s eye. Slogans range from “Hell No, I Won’t Go!” to “Save the Whales”; names range from Farm-Aid to MADD (Mothers Against Drunk Drivers) and DAMM (Drunks Against Mad Mothers). Choose your own, but anagrams and blank-Aid seem to be in vogue these days. 3. You need a group of followers. They are not always easy to find, but you should still check references to weed out the undesirables. 4. Most important to any successful protest is the method used to protest. It should be imaginative and different enough to attract attention. If you are still having trouble getting started, here are some ideas to consider: • Go to Austin and kidnap Bevo. Bring the cow back here and chain it to Sul Ross in protest of Aggie apathy about apartheid. • Sit on the student side of an Aggie football game wearing a Russian flag and drinking vodka to promote our world-class university. • Get a funny haircut, and piercevaf rious parts of your anatomy with shat metal objects. • Break into the Corps’ battery, ste: all the weapons, and stage a coup I; campus to overthrow the Corps’ bio vote. Once your man is in power, ha' him do nothing too (only he would c nothing from a liberal point of view). • Storm President Sherrill’s offici and stage a sit-in until that ridiculof sarge costume is burned or at least di mantled. • Dismantle the bell tower and stad all the bricks in the library to protest ho' that money was used. Hopefully these ideas have stimulatt your political juices. If your ideas d good enough, you could get arrestedt even deported. Remember, protestdaif back centuries and was secured forevf as a college tradition by the studentsf the ’60s and ’70s. Texas A&M was built on tradition,^ if you are a true Aggie, you will nothes tate to throw caution to the wind and of ganize your own protest. And for all y c ' two-percenters who don’t believe intr* dition, remember, highway 6 runs Ml ways. Ken Gleason is a junior psychology $ jor.