Friday, October 15, 1982
Daily Nebraskan
Editorial
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Media guidelines vital in courts
Here's a case where what's good for the media is
good for the public.
The decision came about two weeks ago from Ne
braska's high court. Chief Justice Norman Krivosha was
ready to allow cameras in the courtroom.
Still photographers and television photographers
have sought entry to the courtroom for years. Now all
journalists and their customers - their readers and viewers
will benefit from the victory. That is, if the journalists
follow the rules set by Krivosha.
Krivosha is allowing the cameras in for one year as
an experiment. He's set some pretty stringent - but
necessary - rules about media operations in his court.
One intent of the rules is to keep peace and quiet
during proceedings. Still cameras can't have motor-driven
film advances and television cameras must operate in
silence.
The men and women who run the cameras must act
and dress in accordance with proper courtroom decorum.
Cameras can't use light bulbs or other obtrusive artifi
cial lighting. Additionally, only one TV camera, one
still camera and one radio hookup will be allowed in
the court at one time. The other media members must
"feed" off one of those three.
The other major intent of Krivosha's rules on the
experiment is to guarantee fair treatment of persons
involved in cases. The parties can object to camera cove
rage (although that doesn't mean the court will auto
matically bar them), and microphones won't be allowed
to pickup conversations between lawyers and their clients.
The most important stipulation Krivosha put on
cameras in the courtroom is that the experiment be in
the public's interest. That may be the hardest directive
to follow and yet is the one over which the media have
the most control.
To Krivosha, working in the public interest apparently
means covering proceedings other than appeals to major
crimes.
"Hopefully, the media will recognize the public's
interest and provide an opportunity for people to hear
arguments on important legislative issues and tax mat
ters, not just sensational cases," he said in a recent Lin
coln Journal interview.
For the experiment to be successful, and thus to allow
cameras to continue in the court after next fall, local
electronic media should heed that advice. The easy
story, the one that makes the best pictures, is often
the most sensational. But, it is often the least news
worthy and the least in the public interest.
Scandals: A diversion from reality
When the tittering stops and the titillation passes,
there really is something bothersome about all the
attention given to the latest sex scandals.
At first it's awfully hard not to giggle at the recent
exploits of Randy Prince Andy. Randy, known in pro
per circles as Prince Andrew, the 22-year-old son of
the queen of England, recently has been seen with
an actress named Koo. Koo, in proper circles, is 25-year-old
Kathleen Stark, who has had small parts
in several movies.
Koo's role in two semi-steamy flicks - "The Mar
quis de Sade's Ctue Passion" and "The Awakening
of Emily" - combined with her steamy relationship
with the prince has given the British press a field day.
The media went to town with exposes on the weekend-long
dates of Andy and Koo.
After you read an account for yourself and chuckle
a bit, you can't help but think "who cares?"
The same thought emerges after some reflection
on the Peter Pulitzer case.
Peter, heir to the Pulitzer publishing fortune, is
in the middle of a very messy divorce trial, trying
to win custody of his twin sons. During testimony
last week, Peter and wife Roxanne admitted to using
cocaine and traded accusations of sexual practices
ranging from incest to menage-a-trois to lesbianism.
Again, after the initial "oohs" and "aahs" comes
a common sense of "who really cares?"
Apparently, readers who buy the papers that
print the story and viewers who watch it on TV.
And writers (like this one) who comment on it
all.
Thus a theory on why we all love to read and
hear about the nasty lives of popular people: They
provide us with a diversion from what is real - death
in Lebanon, record high unemployment, threat of
nuclear war - and give us a chance to laugh at the
unreal with a smug smile and an "isn't that terrible?"
Business breakfasts the newest rage
The business breakfast, just a few years ago, was all
but unheard of. Business discussions were handled over
lunch. You would have a few drinks, taok a little, stay
away from the office for 2XA hours and then charge it all
to your company's expense account.
For many American business men and women, the
business lunch was a way of life. No one even pretended
that a whole lot of business actually got conducted over
lunch. But that didn't matter. The business lunch was one
Bob Greene
of the perks that came with being an executive sort of
like a parking spot in the company lot.
Business people had no hint that things would ever
change.
But, in the last 12 months, they have. Suddenly, the
phrase "let's have breakfast" has become part of the
American corporate language. For many of us, those
words are enough to strike raw fear in our hearts.
1 don't know about you, but for me breakfast has
always been a simple routine. The alarm sounds. I fall to
the floor. I moan. I crawl to the bathroom. I look in the
mirror. I scream.
And I'm ready to face the bright new day.
The business breakfast threatens to change all that.
Now, corporate managers are telling us, the early morning
hours are supposed to be used to get things done. Before
a businessman even shows up at the office, he is supposed
to have a big jump on finishing off the day's business
I know how this got started. It's that Reagan bunch
again. The president's three top aides - James Baker,
Edwin Messe and Michael Deaver - have made a big
deal out of their daily 7:30 a.m. business breakfast in the
White House. It's supposed to be symbolic; while much
of the rest of the world is sleeping, the president's men are
deciding policy.
So naturally, the rest of us are becoming swept up in
their brcak-otaay fervor. There is no graceful way to say
no to an invitation to a business breakfast; if you say you
can't make it, you are admitting that you are a lazy,
slothful soul who can't hear to drag himself out of his
warm bed in time to talk turkey.
The talking turkey, by the way, is one of the most
horrid parts of the business breakfast. Many of us cannot
stand the sound of another voice before, say, 1 1 a.m. Our
mornings at work are spent staring at the floor, waiting
for our skin to wake up and wincing every time the tele
phone rings or someone slams a door.
Now, we are being told, we are expected to walk into
a restaurant at 7 a.m. and greet someone who slaps us
on the back, bellows "You're looking good this morning!"
and proceeds to laugh at a high volume and pound his fist
on the table to make his points.
And yet, the business breakfast portends to be the
wave of the future. The big bosses love it. For one thing,
it is immeasurabley cheaper than a business lunch: your
boss knows that it you're taking a client out for a 7 a.m.
breakfast, you espense account is going to be only a frac
tion of what it would be at noon.
For another thing, it doesn't take place on company
time. Your boss doesn't have to worry about you goofing
off over your fourth martini at 3 p.m.; the business
breakfast takes place before you're even due at work.
There's no getting around it. If you turn down an
invitation to a business breakfast, you are admitting
things about yourself that are only bound to hurt you in
the end.
But if you can't say no, you can at least do everything
you can to make your host know how you feel about the
whole thing.
You don't have to make a big deal out of it. The last
business breakfast I was invited to, I showed up promptly
at 7 a.m.
My host bellowed a hearty "good morning" to me.
And I crawled across the restaurant to his table,
pulled myself up by his trouser legs, gagged, cried,
grabbed his glass of water with both hands, gagged again
and poured the water down my throat.
"Morning," I said.
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Student annoyed
by the floor show
"God didn't create the world in six days. He screwed
around for five days and pulled an all-nighter. " -
Love North men 's room
To escape the continual distractions of my apartment,
I sometimes resort to studying in the library. Thinking
is challenging and stimulating, but it's also hard work.
Matthew
Millea
When I go to Love Library I prefer to sit near a drinking
fountain. o I can break for a bit of water and a few deep
breaths as 1 work.
Since I needed to meet a good friend last Monday, 1
suggested he look for me in the common study area at
the north end of the second floor where the carpeting
ends.
"You're kidding," he scoffed. "Not the floor show!"
It didn't take long to realize he wasn't exaggerating.
The floor show is the social hub of the university on
Monday nights. I couldn't help sitting back to marvel at
the chaos around me. Directly in front of me sat a pretty
young student who'd obviously discovered the wonders
of $12 worth of makeup and bleached blonde hair.
(Maybe I should call it two-tone. I'm never certain if
they're dying their roots dark or their hair light. Either
way, women who still feel it's their purpose in life is to
attract men might think about going brunette. There's a
glut of the other kind, so they'd be sure to clean up.)
She was successfully attracting a procession of young
men with scraggly moustaches who disturbed her reading
with inane questions andor passionate avowals of their
undying lust for her.
Further ahead sat what appeared to be a herd of
football players. Their builds gave them away even faster
than their study habits. Nobody is born with a body
designed to do tremendous violence to another in a
split second. It takes years of pain and neglect of one's
education to develop that level of physical distortion.
Their highly tuned competitive drives had them outdoing
each other in violations of library norms.
The same was true of virtually everyone in the floor
show, all of whom were rapping with their pals as if
they were gathered at the Brass Rail. I smiled, imagining
them boasting, "Hey, I spent six hours at the library last
night."
I've never been exactly thrilled to see a university
police officer, but all that changed Monday in the library.
You might have heard there have been a couple
muggings in the bowels of the library (the stacks, where
the authentic scholars go, if they dare). To restore some
sense of law and order, the police evidently have begun
patrolling the building.
An officer strolled through twice during the three
hours I intermittently observed the floor show. Each time
the hubbub stopped.
I'm sure that the officer didn't comprehend the histor
ical significance of his act, but I honestly believe he did
more for the quality of education at this institution in
those two strolls than he had in year upon year of writing
parking tickets.
Keep up the good work, university police. If the
"students" get a little too used to having you around,
don't be afraid to give them a little tap on their empty
heads with that big stick you never get to use.
I'm sure there will be those who might raise a fuss
over your keeping the peace in Love. But always
remember that education is the only purchase people
make in which they do everything they can to get the
least for their money. It's for their own good; they'll
appreaciate you someday. Meanwhile, you might consider
reassigning the parking patrol to the library detail. . . .