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About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (Feb. 14, 1989)
The Battalion \ - I OPINION 2 Tuesday, February 14,1989 The allegations and rumors about John Tower are not true, and shouldn’t stop him from becoming" Secretary of Defense! It’s not that easy being a single guy Valentine’s Day was more important in grade school For those of you not up on current events, today happens to be Valentine’s Day. I suspect most of you already know this. For those who don’t, 1 just have one thing to say: What rock have you been hiding under? Unless you’ve been marooned on an island in the South Pacific somewhere, you couldn’t help but know Valentine’s Day has arrived. It’s the one day a year when lovers and friends fork out big dollars for those obligatory offerings of undying affection. If billboard-sire advertisements in the newspapers haven’t caught your atten tion, I’m sure the radio and TV ads have. They’ve been working on us since Christmas. Advertisers are masters of the guilt trip. They have me convinced that if I don’t get a little something for Aunt Harriett this year she may do something drastic. It’s probably not true, but advertisers would love for me to believe it is. They insist that verbal expression of affection is not enough. I have to show my love by giving gifts like a new car, a thousand dollar night on the town, or the Crown Jewels. And it’s not just advertisers. The me dia in general devotes an extraordinary amount of time for Valentine’s features and specials. Forget the news — it’s Val entine’s Day. I can see two newspaper editors dis cussing today’s news priorities: “Well Harry, the Russians just obliter ated Southern California. Should we run that front page, or the feature on bow to make heart-shaped sushi for Valentine’s Day?” “Well Bill, the question is ‘What is our responsibility to the public at large?’ Should we tell them they won’t live to see tomorrow? Or should we show them how to have a memorable Valentine's Day? You know it will be their last. ..” “Let's go with the heart-shaped su shi." Where did we get all these Valentine’s Day experts that write these features anyway? How are they qualified to offer advice on what to give, what to do, and how to make the day special? Do universities offer a curriculum in Valentine’s Day Management? Do they offer courses like “Cupid 101” or “Candy Hearn 202”? I don’t think so. I think there's an or- Stephanie Stribling Columnist ganization of people somewhere who do nothing but come up with stupid things for us to 4o on Valentine’s Day ... just for jollies. I don’t mean to sound so negative about Valentine’s Day. I think express ing affection to people you care about is important. Some people are just not very consis tent in observing this holiday. A lot of people’s interest in Valen tine’s Day blows hot and cold, depend ing on the current temperature of their love life. This year may be a little nippy for me ... When one’s love life is at a peak, fam ily and friends reap the rewards on Val entine’s Day. No one is overlooked, not even the family pet. But when one’s love life is at an ebb, family and friends suffer. No cards, no presents, no nothing. Most people pre fer to forget what day it is. It wasn’t always this way. I remember a simpler time. When we were kids Val entine’s Day was a celebration, one that both titillated and delighted us. In grade school, Valentine’s Day was an event. An event that some of us spent weeks preparing for. First, you had to buy the cards. For those of us who came from moderate means, this was not a problem. The cheapest cards were the ones you could pick up at the grocery store for under a buck. • Nothing fancy, mind you — we’re not talking Hallmark here. These were cards with puppies, kitties, rabbits, and other assorted double-consonant fuzzies on the front. The reverse simply said “To:” and “From:." Whether it was the week before or the night before, you raced home with your purchase. All the way home you were mentally compiling a list of which kids deserved which cards. Here was the difficult part. You had to be strategic in deciding on potential recipients. The wrong card in the wrong hands could be devastating to both the giver and the givee. The Battalion (USPS MS 560) Member of Texas Press Association Southwest Journalism Conference The Battalion Editorial Board Becky Weiaenfels, Editor Leslie Guy, Managing Editor can Sueltenfuss. Opinion Page Editor Anthony Wilson, City Editor Scot Walker, Wire Editor Drew Leder, News Editor Doug Walker, Sports Editor Jay Janner. Art Director ■ry-Lynae Rice, Entertainment Edi tor Editorial Policy The Baiubon u a non-profit, self-supporting newspa per operated as a communitv service to Texas ASM and Brvan-College Station. Opinions expressed in The Battmbon are those of the editorial board or the author, and do not necessarih rep resent the opinions of Texas AlcM adnrurmiraiorv fac ulty or the Board of Regents The Baiuhoii also serves as a laboratory newspaper for students in reporting, editing and photographi classes w ithin the Department of Journalism The Battalion is published Monday through Friday during Texas A AM regular semesters, except for hohdai and examination periods. Mail subscriptions are SI7.44 per semester. $34.62 per school sear and $36.44 per full sear. Advertising rates furnished on request Our address The Battalion. 23V Reed McDonald. Texas AAM L msersttt. College Station TX 77843-11II. Second class postage paid at Co 1 lege Station. TX 77843. POSTMAS PER; Send address changes to The Battal ion. 216 Reed McDonald Texas AI M L'nhersuv. Col lege Station TX 77843 4111. First you had to pick the ugliest cards in the bunch. Those were usually the cards with reptiles or other non-fuzzy creatures on the front. T he message was never any more commita! than “Happy Valentine’s Day.” These prize specimens would go to the kids you couldn't stand. T his was the most acceptable way to say “up yours” in the first grade. And everyone knew if you got a card with a singing toad that said “Happy Valentine’s Day,” you could pretty much write the sender off your gift list. Now for the good cards. These were for the people you thought were the “bees-knees” — whether they knew you existed or not. The good cards were a confirmation of affection for friends and an ice breaker for would-be friends, partic ularly those of the opposite sex. The best card you saved for your six- year-old Mr. or Miss Right. It usually pictured some fuzzy fur ball on the front, with a really daring message like "Be Mine." Pretty bold for a first-grade ego. Thinking of something to say on this one was a real task. Usually after several hours of tedious composition, you ended up with “I think you’re cute,” or “Will you be my Valentine?" Some brave souls ventured so far as to say “I love you.” I was never that courageous. On Valentine’s morning you would set out for school with your brown pa pier sack full of cards and a heart full of anticipation. If you were lucky, ihe teacher would have a little party with refreshments for all. I always got those little cupcakes with a candy bean planted on top. Every single child had a paper bag with theii name on it taped along the blackboard at the front of the room. Most of them had primitive Hide artistic creations tacked on. At some point during the day every one would distribute their goodies into the sacks up front. The rest of the day was a complete wash. You couldn’t learn anything be cause all your mental energy was being focused on that little papier bag at the front of the room. It contained a confirmation of your being. A validation of who you were. Your mind would not rest until you tore open the bag (which was always be fore you got home), and discovered who was just dying to be your Valentine. If you’re like most of us, your six- year-old Mr. or Miss Right was soliciting someone else’s affection. If anyone wanted to be your Valen tine, it was the pierson you least ex- pected. Somebody that you told your parents was “gross.” But in some weird way, you felt loved. I miss the 75-cent Valentine’s Day. It’s amazing the feelings that can be con veyed on a two-cent card. No lavish presents — just the gift of sentiment. Stephanie Stribling ia a senior jour nalism major and a columnist for The Battalion. Since Valentine’s Day is just around the comer, I thought I would provide some learning experiences to those con sidering to pop “the question” on the holiest of all days associated with ro mance. I recently had one of those piainf ul experiences that makes me question my single life. It makes me become intro- spiective about marriage and commit ment; it’s called a birthday. The closer a male gets to thirty with out being married, the more excruciat ing the marriage debate becomes. This is happening all too often for me at this time of the year. I consider it a double whammy — an uncomfortable combina tion of a birthday too close to Valen tine’s Day. Some of my f amily members consider me to be entrenched in a single lifestyle, and they think that I am nowhere close to leaving it for nuptial bliss. I have some friends who say I just haven’t found the “right pierson." I love that statement. I put it in the same cat egory as all of those other piearls of wis dom that parents usually become so fa mous for. Phrases like: “Everything happiens for a reason; you’ll know it when you find her; well, it just wasn’t meant to be.” It used to be that men had a problem with commitment and/or marriage. But the sex plagues of the ’80s have helpied alter that. Marriage and commitment are now, the “in” thing to do. (Even if they are caused by fear). Because of AIDS, more married couples are at least finding some common ground toward being happily married. By most standards it is the woman that puts more into a relationship than the man. And when the commitment doesn’t begin to happien after one, two and even three years into the relationship, what once was an invest ment ultimately becomes a frustration. I don’t personally know many men that have fallen into that trap. Ironically, if someone puts every thing they have into a relationship and the other person is not quite ready for it, you will see people flee from the relationship faster than George Smith from his own press conference. There are so many double standards in today’s relationships (or are they dou ble-edged swords?). Single men love the idea that they have limitless access to any number of women. But remember, ^ I said it was just an idea. Call it a play for ammunition when bragging among buddies. If it has to be bragged about, it probably never happened. On the other hand, women can be addicted to the ability to bring any number of men to their knees, through the art of the tease. 11 becomes something of a game. We all love the chase. We get bored with repetition. And everybody hates to start over. We all fit in one of those cat egories when it comes to relationships. I myself have become immune to the fear that so piervades the “starting over" cat egory. I have had to do it so many times that I consider myself all-conference. There are probably some budding psychology majors out there frothing at the mouth to psychoanalyze me right now. But there is some background to my thinking. When I left Texas A&M after graduation, my first job was in the hotbed of Southern Baptist moral phi losophy — Waco, Texas. Being one of the few single males in town (single females knew better than to move to there), one could only date sin- f ;le women among two species: the co-ed rom Baylor or the home-baked Wa- coan. Dating was not in the vocabulary of too many of these women. Marriage was. Ultimately, the problem with the college girls was financial. It is public knowledge that the Baylor co-ed is defi nitely looking for Mr. Bigbucks. That pretty much eliminated me. So it left the girls from Waco — a spe cies that was a true oddity to me. It seemed to be extremely important to Waco-born-and-bred girls to hang on to their high school sweetheart, marry them, have three children and then go to work for one of the local insurance companies. By the way. divorced, single women with children are at an all-time high in Waco. They too are looking for lomeone to re-marry. So 1 took a job back at the Holy Land, and found a new dynamic to my single life. Ever since 1 have been back in Bryan-College Station I am amazed at how many female students have this overwhelming need to claim a boyf riend . Said boyfriend can be a real jerk, he can be intensely ugly, he can he the big gest sleaze that walks, he can fool around, or he can smother her to the p>oint of being a prisoner. But at least thd female has a boyfriend. 1 think this stems from a compjetitive spirit raised in sororities and other social ills. How does one meet single girls in a community obsessed with having a so cial partner. They go out of their way to make sure you know that they have a boyf riend. T hey are just waiting for the right moment in any conversation to in terject a “my bovtiiend this” or “my boyfriend that.” Maybe it just happens to me at inoppxmune moments. But in this Age of AIDS this underw helming phenomenon might also be the direct result of the desire for monog amy. Heaven forbid a female should be thought of as single, and still on the prowl. Unfortunately, most men don’t even have to be devotedly single to be on the prowl. I am just wondering whether society is trying to tell us to be something other than confirmed bachelors. I am actually more frightened by marriage and the domesticity that accompanies it, than 1 am of AIDS and other sexual diseases. All my friends who have tied the knot since college arc now pushing maxi mum density. Married couples get fat. This is not something I need anymore help at. Maybe 1 shouldn’t complain about relationships. I am trying not to. I should consider myself lucky. None of my past romances have sent me into the rapy — that is usually a pxwitive sign. I think 1 am now developing a non-pur suit attitude that may be hindering me. 1 now believe that if something is to happien with a member of the opposite sex the oppx>site sex is going to have to initiate the whole thing. That may be a problem since everyone has a boyfriend. Call it a self-induced celibacy. Unfor tunately, 1 don’t think chastity is one of my strong suits. Randy Lemmon is s communica tions specialist with the Texas Agricul tural Extension Service, a 19H4 grad uate of Texas AScM University and a guest columnist for The Battalion. Mail Call Just chill out, man EDITOR: Wow! Like Todd Honeycutt is totally spiritual. His uplifted views of revelation from meditation are radically awesome! Yeah, we don’t need government or cooperation. Hospitals, medicine, technological advancements? Bah! Who needs them? We should split up the world so everyone gets a couple of acres, and we could separate ourselves from each other and this materialistic, filthy world of greed. 5p>sychologica! ineptitude, it’s all mental! All we need is inner advancement; our bodies aren’t important. Why do we even need our physical senses? We can live on air! Break out the tye-dies and p>eace signs. Moonbeam. We’re back. Guide us to enlightenment. Oh great guru of mentality! Terry Leifeste *91 Accompanied by seven signatures Letters to the rdtloi should exceed 300 words in length. The editorial staff reserves the right to edit letters for stde and length, bu u-dl Make evert effort to maintain the author's mien/ Each letter must be signed and must include the classification, address and telephone number of the uniter. (\ *