friday, january 19, 1979
page 4
daily nebraskan
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Chambers, OU 'puncture9 UNL football
By Randy Essex
Judging from letters to the editor of this publication
and comments heard around campus, many students
would prefer that Omaha's Ernie Chambers served the
state as an NU regent rather than as a state senator.
HQS
"I'd also like to be sure the academic programs they
are in are qualified to prepare them for something other
than football."
Chambers was given an Oklahoma Sooner stocking cap
recently because he likes the OUjQotball program. But
he likes the program only because "they puncture Nebras
ka's bubble."
Chambers is certain NU football is overemphasized,
and he believes the players are treated like commodities.
"I suppose football is overemphasized everywhere,"
Chambers says.
Chambers says the players are victims-especially if
they are injured and cannot play football after college.
He would like to see a program instituted to help players
adjust to life off the field.
Those comments and attitudes may not be in harmony
with student opinion, but related subjects seem to be.
Chambers says he can't agree with the NU Board of
Regents action to expand Memorial Stadium and raise
Tom Osborne's salary.
"I could go along with it if the academic programs
were improving an equal amount and the improvements in
the athletic department seemed to be going hand-in-hand
with academic improvements," Chambers said.
Chambers said he also is concerned about the number
of non-accredited people instructing students and deciding
grades.
Chambers said there is value in the teaching assistant
concept, but it doesn't always work.
Chambers added that "this Legislature" will never pass
anything that appears to be "anti-football," even if the
measure was designed to improve the academic quality
or assist football players in their adjustment to "life
without their numbers."
He added that the public usually hears his comments
that he is glad the Huskers have dropped a game, but the
reasoning behind it is seldom mentioned in the press.
Liquor proposal
watered down
in controversy
Sen. Ralph Kelly's charge that the liquor in
dustry's influence kept his drinking age bill from
consideration by the full Legislature probably is
not entirely groundless. Liquor industry lobbyists
are busy in practically every state in the Union.
But whether tlrat lobby is totally reponsible is
debatable. For believe it or not, there are many
legislators who are of the opinion that most 19
and 20- year-olds are responsible, adult human
beings.
The charge that teenagers get their liquor from
19 - and 20-year-olds also has some truth to it. But
there is an excellent chance that 21-and 22-year-olds
are buying it for them too. And 23-and 24
year olds. There is no foolproof method of draw
ing a fair and equitable line.
Sen. Kelly's figures showing that since 1972,
when the drinking age was lowered to 19, annual
consumption of liquor in Nebraska has risen from
32 gallons per person to a whopping 139 gallons
per person demands closer scrutiny. The con
sumption of liquor per person per year has gone
up everywhere, not because more youngsters are
drinking but because adults are drinking more. A
32-gallon to a 139-gallon increase per person
represents an increase of over 400 percent. That's
just incredibly hard to believe.
It would seem that Sen. Kelly's proposal would
have more support the next time around because
other states have raised their drinking ages. It is
hopes that the Legislature will not be swayed to
vote a higher drinking age on the basis of that
trend. Just because others do it, doesn't mean it's
right. Any "Introduction to Logic" student can
tell you that's a fallacious appeal to common
practice.
Maine winters teach children to bundle up and cuss
"Boy, it's cold," my friend said one frosty morning last
week as he kicked his stubborn '6 1 Rambler for the 1 27th
time. The Rambler, who had no intention of starting until
April, stared back balefully.
I reckoned it was that time again and I dutifully began
my "If you think this is cold, you should have grown up
in Maine" speech. I've been giving it annually for eons.
If you think this is cold, you should have grown up in
Maine. Out-of-state tourists are often struck by the four-letter-word
vocabulary of young children in that state.
By the time a Maine child reaches the age of seven, he or
she knows more dirty words than a Navy chief petty of
ficer with 30 years in grade. Those winters do it to them.
mason
One of the best ways a Maine child leams how to cuss
is to wait for the school bus in 30-below weather.
My mother used to bundle my sisters and myself in
every piece of clothing we owned. When she was done we
looked like walking haberdasheries with eyes. Then she
would take us out to the corner, one at a time, and set us
in the knee-high snow.
We would stand there, huddled tightly together, until
the school bus arrived. When the bus stopped at the cor
ner the driver would get out and pick us up, together, in
one armload and put us on the bus. Then he would cut us
apart with an acetylene torch.
When our jaws thawed out and feeling came back to
our toes and fingers, we'd begin to cuss. It's hard to ima
gine the sound of 80 children cussing in chorus on a
crowded school bus. You have to be there.
When I was 1 1 some friends and I went tobogganing at
Westgustago Hill.
We were always
very careful when walking with all those clothes on be
cause if you fell over you stayed there until the first thaw.
It was impossible for anyone to bend down to help you
up. It's very common, in Maine in January, to see scores
of little kids lying on their sides in the snow, struggling to
right themselves, like upside-down turtles.
It was impossible for us to bend our knees so we sort
of just fell onto our toboggans, one on top of the other,
and sped down the hill. At the bottom of the hill lies
Route 9, a busy country road. The only way to stop
from sliding across the road and into the wheels of the
many logging trucks that pass by on their way to the pulp
mill in Portland is to hit one of the large pine trees at the
edge of the highway.
It never worried us that we would hit those trees at
over 40 because our many clothes cushioned the impact.
We would crash into a tree, fly several feet into the air and
come down in the snow where we would struggle to right
ourselves until a kindly trucker stopped and put us on our
feet.
When the sun began to set in the west we trudged
home with snow down our backs, up our sleeves, in our
boots and in our mittens. We reached one of our houses,
my triend Leon's, and stomped into the kitchen where his
mother was preparing supper.
"Gee, Mom, we had a great time tobogganing," Leon
said as he whipped off his stocking cap. Something flew
mto the air and into the cat's dish by the stove. It was
Leon's left ear.
Leon's mother did a dramatic pirouette and landed in
an unconscious heap on the floor. Leon started cussing.
The cat started licking its lips.
A doctor was summoned and the ear was sewn back
on. It took him about an hour to do it because he could
n t stop laughing. The incident so impressed me that for
years afterwards I taped my ears to my head so in case
one of them broke off I wouldn't lose it in the snow.
It you think this is cold. .
