Wednesday • December 7, 1994
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The Battalion • Page 11.
O, our Tannenbaum plant
Finals stress, pressure can humbug anyone's holiday spirit
AJA
HENDERSON
Columnist
I blinked my eyes. Surely
he had not said what I
thought he had said.
Surely my ears must be
deceiving me.
Could he...did he?
“I like y’alls new plant.”
Hmmm. Our “new plant?”
I shot my friend a dirty look
and quickly explained that our “new plant” was a Christmas
tree. Naked, small, and potted it might be — it is still a
CHRISTMAS TREE.
My roomie paid the whopping sum of Sl8 for it, and we are
very proud of it and defensive over comments on the little
guy. She made a trip to Wal-Mart and bought all the micro
scopic decorations she could find, and we merrily decked it
with beads, lights and even a teenie topper. My warm fuzzy
pre-Christmas feelings did not last for long.
By the beginning of this week, I did not want to hear, see,
or smell anything dealing with Christmas, good feelings or
any of that razmatazz. I was busy gathering my study mate
rials together for finals and feeling downright Scroogey. Af
ter getting a few “Bah, humbugs” out of my system, I decided
to take the least frustrating way out and treat myself to a
nap. That’s when it happened...
Wind. Blow, blow, snow, snow. Then a frazzled looking
ghost entered. (Well, what did I expect? Ghost pay isn’t
great, you know).
COME WITH ME - I AM THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS
PAST.
Mist. Suddenly, I was walking in the corridors of my old
elementary school, passing tikes of all sizes. A feeling of ex
citement and anticipation hung in the air. The ghost
grabbed my arm with his clammy, gray hands and led me
into the school auditorium.
It was time for the annual Christmas program. I
watched in amusement as the wrinkled choir director’s
arms jiggled up and down as she led the choir through a
rousing Christmas medley.
Then, after several poetry readings and speeches, the
ghost whisked me to another destination — my old high
school. Oh, glorious days of high school. I wore one of those
annoying Christmas bells around my neck and a fur-trimmed
Santa hat. During lunch, I studied for my “finals.” Then, at
the end of the day, I exchanged gifts with my friends (as if I
was not going to see them to see them over the Christmas
break). Several hugs later, I headed out to my car.
Wind. Blow, blow, snow, snow. Another frazzled looking
ghost entered.
COME WITH ME - I AM THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS
FUTURE.
Mist. Suddenly, I saw myself crying over my meal of Kib
bles and Bits as my kids begged me for more toaster crumbs.
My ugly, shapeless spouse grinned at me, and our donated
eight trhck player droned out scratchy Christmas tunes.
A yellowed Scantron sheet hung on the wall. Under closer
inspection, I saw that it was a certain exam from my sopho
more year in college. Had I scored an extra tenth of a point, I
would have gotten into that certain grad school and not have
been eating dog food and toaster crumbs. But, no! I watched
myself bite into another handful of my Kibbles and Bits.
Wind. Blow, blow, snow, snow. The last frazzled looking
ghost entered.
COME WITH ME. I AM THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS
PRESENT.
Mist. Suddenly, I saw myself now. I was gathering my fi
nals survival pack: Maalox for the queasy moments of finals
anxiety, coffee and and other caffeine-laden beverages, a box
of Kleenex for stressful moments, and most importantly — a
Bible for those late night prayer sessions. My head was
buried in a book, and I suddenly shouted, “Bah, humbug!”
and ripped out the Christmas lights. I was not a pretty sight.
Mist. This was my experience. Who knows ... maybe this
story is familiar to you, too. Maybe you were feeling warm
fuzzies, let the finals frenzy get to you, and turned a little
Scroogey, as well.
If so, let my experience be an example to you before the
frazzled ghosts knock on your door. If you are praying to
that Grade-Curve God, get off your knees and dare to crack
the book you haven’t touched all semester.
If you pass a person who shouts an early Merry Christ
mas at you, fight your urge to curse them out and give a
“Merry Christmas” back.
Who cares if it’s fake — the important thing is that you are
making progress, Scrooge. Finally, if you see a small, potted,
pointy “plant” that wasn’t there before — assume that it is a
Christmas tree.
“I like y’alls new plant.” ... Men!
Aja Henderson is a sophomore finance major
The Battalion
Editorial Board
Belinda Blancarte, Editor in chief
Mark Evans, Managing editor
jay Robbins, Opinion editor
Jenny Magee, Assistant opinion editor
Editorials appearing in The Battalion reflect
the views of tne editorial board. They do not
necessarily reflect the opinions of other
Battalion staff members, the Texas A&M
student body, regents, administration, faculty
or staff.
Columns, guest columns, cartoons and
letters express the opinions of the authors.
Contact the opinion editor for information
on submitting guest columns.
Pearl Harbor Day
Remember sacrifices of our predecessors
O n December 7, 1941, the world
changed forever. American men,
mercilessly attacked, were
drowned in coffins of iron. The Axis
powers had declared war on
the rest of humanity. Ameri
ca was finally forced to re
spond to its greatest
challenge since the
Civil War. She deliv
ered.
Many people
attempt to de
flate the
heroism of
the war, say
ing it was all
propaganda,
that America was no better
than its opponents. Some criti
cize “how we dropped the
bomb unjustifiably,” how we
were as bloodthirsty as the
rest.
The only answers
our ancestors leave
us is that they
were as
scared and
confused as
people have al
ways been and,
despite this, they
did what they could
to make the world
right. These truths de
serve their due credit —
That America did not ut
terly destroy its opponents
in a fit of vengeance, but helped them
achieve economic and political stability;
that we rarely hold it over our Allies
that we came to their aid when needed.
I have never had the honor of visit
ing the water-filled ships at Pearl Har
bor, but I have been to Arlington Ceme
tery. When I stared across the greenest
field on earth, white stones placed in
perfect order, I was forced to think
whether all those Americans
should have died simply
for my freedom. It forced
me to evaluate my
worth, to make me
consider that I
had to be more
than just a
taker,
that I
have to
give
back as
well.
Fate, so many years
ago, made the decision for
some that they would no
longer be allowed to give
to the world whatever
they had to donate,
that men and
women of
Asian,
African,
Euro
pean and
Native
American
descent died
under Old
Glory, forfeiting
their right to see
our country as a
place where all peo
ple are truly free.
That is what we should all remem
ber today — some people lost there lives
to insure a secure and free future for
those who survived and followed.
■ <Josef Elchanan
Drinking age limits don’t match alcohol responsibility
MICHAEL
LANDAUER
Columnist
"1 V-ohibition
I—-^was called a
“noble experi
ment” by Presi
dent Hoover. Lat
er, when prohibi
tion was repealed.
President Roo
sevelt said the ex
periment had failed. But that failed experiment still
applies to legal adults under the age of 21.
When President Reagan mandated a legal drink
ing age of 21, underage drinkers grudgingly accept
ed the fact. Well, except perhaps in Louisiana.
Everyone thought it would slow teenage drinking
trends and have an impact on crime rates, especially
in the area of drinking and driving.
I recently researched the drinking age for an Eng
lish paper. I expected to find tons of information
showing how necessary it was to have the drinking
age set at 21.
The studies I found surprised me. Not only do un
derage drinkers break the law, they actually drink
more than they did before the change. They are also
drinking more in uncontrolled locations — places
where service can’t be stopped and rides can’t be
arranged when someone drinks too much. These
trends begin because of something called the Reac
tance Theory. Fkit simply, if you tell someone not to
do something, they will do it more often.
This makes sense. I see it all the time in my two
young nieces. I see it all the time in friends, too.
Dennis J. Reardon, coordinator of the Center for
Drug Prevention and Education, said college stu
dents have trouble being forbidden to drink when
they have just received new freedom.
Reardon said freshmen have the biggest problem
with alcohol because they have no one looking after
them for the first time. He said a girl is most likely
to be raped between the first day of class and
Thanksgiving and that most of these instances in
volve drinking.
Although the law has made underage students
drink on fewer days, it has not affected their overall
drinking rates. This means that students are drink
ing more at one time than drinkers over 21.
“That’s the very kind of drinking that promotes
alcoholism and alcohol problems in young adults,”
Reardon said.
He also said this kind of drinking leads to liver
damage, but points out that the liver is generally not
able to filter alcohol efficiently until age 25. He also
said the law has saved 7,000 to 10,000 lives from
traffic fatalities. But some studies say these statis
tics are wrong and that DWI rates have increased
for underage drinkers.
Even if drunk driving accidents have decreased
since the drinking age was changed, the reason for
this is unclear. It could be the influence of in
creased awareness and education about drinking
and driving. It is no longer socially acceptable to
drink and drive, and the law had nothing to do
with this new social norm.
We have to give credit to MADD (Mothers
Against Drunken Driving) and SADD (Students
Against Drunken Driving) and other groups that
have worked hard and have even influenced beer
companies to promote responsible drinking. They
need stronger laws against drinking and driving to
back them up, but having an age limit does nothing
to aid their cause.
What does a minimum drinking age
have to do with anything? It's not as
if your twenty-first birthday makes
you responsible enough to drink.
Reardon said programs promoting responsible
drinking are more effective than the drinking age
law. He told a story about a Japanese foreign ex
change student who was invited to join her host fam
ily in their hot tub. She joined them — naked. The
family explained that this was not normal for them.
and she told her hosts about bathing houses in
Japan where families go to bathe together. The fam
ily thought this was amazing and asked if there ever
were problems with incidents of sex at these bathing
houses. The girl simply asked, “What does bathing
have to do with sex?”
What does a minimum drinking age have to do
with drinking responsibly? It is not as if a magic 7
clock ticks midnight on your twenty-first birthday
and makes you responsible enough to drink.
All the problems with alcohol can be addressed
without a minimum drinking age law. Once you are -
a legal adult there should be no reason for the law to
forbid you from drinking.
The legal drinking ages were reduced during the ;
Vietnam War because 18-year-olds. Since they were -
old enough to vote, be drafted, fight and die, they
should be allowed to drink as well. The government I
still reserves the right to draft us, but we no longer 1
have the option to drink if we are under 21.
Unfortunately, the idea of lowering the drinking ;
age has no advocate. No politician in their right
mind wants to be labeled pro-drunk. So, underage -
drinkers will continue to drink and the real prob
lems still are not addressed. The noble experiment
continues with as little success as ever.
lillil liilill
• •. ■■■ ■■j. . ^ .7 ^ ■ ■- ^ ■. % -
^ggie spirit sacrificed by
raduation ticket selling
Hey, Ags. I got a little story for ya.
An Ag named Kristi was graduating in
December. She was very excited and told
all of her friends and family members.
To surprise her, most of her family decid
ed to come to College Station for the cere
mony. Well Ags, Kristi knew she would
need more than six tickets if all of her
family was coming to the ceremony, so
she advertised around campus to get ex
tra tickets from other Ags that weren’t
using all of theirs. She even called a few
numbers from advertisements she saw on
bulletin boards. Every person she spoke
with wanted S20 or S30 for their extra
graduation tickets, much to her shock
and disappointment.
Ags, this story is true. I will be gradu
ating on Dec. 16 after four wonderful
years here at Aggieland. I have come to
love A&M, the Aggie spirit and cama
raderie. Why are true Ags selling their
extra graduation tickets when they didn’t
pay for them in the first place?
I would think that they would, out of
Aggie spirit, help out another Ag in need.
I would like to suggest to those Ags who
are not planning to walk, give their extra
tickets to those of us who need them —
not sell them for a profit and take advan
tage of other Ags.
Alix Rogstad
C lass of ’94
Two-percenter steals
sandwich board sign
Sometime during the week of Nov.
14, the Hispanic Business Student As
sociation’s sandwich board was stolen
from the entrance of the Blocker Build
ing. This board was used to let our
members know when and where upcom
ing events were taking place. Because
some 2-percenter with no sense of in
tegrity stole our board, we are going to
invest more time and money into mak
ing another board. Our only hope is
Michael Landauer is a sophomore -
journalism major'.
that whoever did this leaves Texas;
A&M soon so that they don’t hurt any
one else at this world-class University.
Mike Slabic & Xavier Villarreal
Class of ’95
Hie Battalion encour
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