Daily Nebraskan Frlda Au9ust 29 1986
Page 4
IT JJ!. I
.IrfTKorMik. ;i'fr. l?M
Jame R.'Scr. Editorial hiy Editor
Gf ne (ifiilrup, Munaiiti Editor
Tamnn Katip, ,4svk i'o' .V' Editor
Tedd Kampfn, Editorial lup Assistant
Nebrayskan
University o( Nebraska-Lincoln
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NU career over
DuBose endures hardships
Nebraska I-back Doug DuBose
threw his helmet in dis
gust as he limped off the
field in last Saturday's football
scrimmage. And why not? His
college career-ending knee injury
added more salt to a deep wound.
The senior from I'ncasville,
Conn., has not carried the ball
yet this season, but has spent
the past weeks headlining the
sports page. Not because he is a
Heisman Trophy candidate, but
for a car he drives.
DuBose came under the scrut
iny of the NCAA, fans and the
media because of a sporty little
car. a Nissan 300ZX. The ques
tion posed: Did he lease the car?
Did his parents lease the car or
did someone else lease the car?
Last week the media reported
that the NCAA could hand down
as many as IS allegations result
ing from their investigation.
Football coach Tom Osborne said
that not all the allegations con
cern his program. Earlier reports
said DuBose could miss as many
as two games as a result of the
investigation. Now he'll miss all
the games because of an injury.
With all that has happened,
it's amazing DuBose has kept his
sanity through it all. Not only has
Not up to snuff
New ad restriction threatens rights
Sorry, TV "couch potatoes."
No longer can you antici
pate Walt Garrison inter
rupting your football game to put
a pinch between his cheek and
gum.
Garrison, the "Skoal Bandit."
and st ars of similar commercials,
were ordered off the air Wednes
day when a federal law banning
smokeless tobacco radio and TV
ads went into effect. Like the
1971 ban on broadcast advertis
ing of cigarettes, the new law
allows print advertising of smoke
less tobacco, but requires the
ads and snuff containers to carry
warning labels about the health
dangers of chewing.
We're going to miss those ads.
Ironically, it seems that some of
the best-made commercials on
the air push products whose
health values are questionable
at best. The Kodiak Bear who
convinced thousands to chew
with his growl may not have been
a greater star than Miller Lite's
former athletes, but he was a
better performer than most.
But even those who would
rather see smokeless tobacco
disappear altogether should
mourn the passing of the ads.
The law imposing the ban con
tinues the erosion of first Am
endment ideals that began when
cigarette commercials on TV" were
outlawed. As UNL associate pro
fessor of law John Snowden put
it, the issue isn't whether snuff
is good for you. It's whether
tobacco companies are to enjoy
the same rights to free speech as
everyone else.
Supporters of the ban point to
he been beleaguered with repor
ters concerning the investiga
tion, he was nursing an already
tender knee with hopes of being
100 percent by the time the sea
son opener rolled around against
Florida State. Sept. 6.
He had the chance to become
the first Husker running back to
rush over a thousand yards in
three consecutive seasons. Heis-man-Trophy
winner Mike Rozier
never did it. All-Big Eight backs
I.M. Hipp. Roger Craig and Jarvis
Redwine never did it. Now DuBose
won't do it.
DuBose is ineligible for a
hardship year. NCAA limits play
ers to four years of eligibility in a
five-year span. DuBose redshirted
his sophomore year.
Now, should DuBose come
through the investigation inno
cent, it probably won't mean as
much to him as it will to the
program. He will spend the next
year rehabilitating his knee with
hopes of being a lower-round
pick in the NFL draft.
In one month, DuBose has
experienced more than any ath
lete has in an entire career. It's a
tribute to his character to be
able to withstand the accusa
tions and endure the injury.
w ell-publicized evidence that use
of smokeless tobacco increases
the risk of mouth cancer, gum
disease and tooth loss. They also
cite a study of young chewers
that says many of them assumed
the lack of warning labels and
advertising restrictions meant
smokeless tobacco was safe.
Convincing as the evidence
may be, we wonder whether par
tially depriving tobacco compan
ies of their right to advertise is
preferable to a "let the buyers
beware" policy. Cigarette ads
have been off TV and radio for 15
years, and opposition to smoking
is stronger than ever, but mil
lions of Americans still smoke
and thousands continue to die of
smoking-induced lung cancer.
Snowden, an expert on First
Amendment issues, says chan
ces are slim that the ban will be
overturned in the near future.
Not only has the partial outlaw
ing of cigarette advertising never
been seriously challenged he
says, but a series of federal court
decisions in the last decade have
served to give "commercial
speech" less constitutional pro
tection. Perhaps the concerns of both
sides could be resolved by adding
warning labels to smokeless to
bacco TV commercials. Such
labels, if prominently displayed,
would both give viewers a more
complete picture of the effects
of chewing and would enjoy strong
constitutional protection. Snow
den said. The labels might not
change all chewers" minds, but
the purpose of the law would be
carried out without infringing on
the First Amendment.
As llf B? fx M
Disney magic stuns columnist
Powerful fun-park lets people escape from their boring lives
"Disney World is the most
powerful institution in theivorld,
even more powerful than govern
ment "
Ann Kevlin, 1986
Ann was a friend of mine down in
St. Petersburg, Fla., this summer.
She's one of those friends that
enjoys musing over life's great myster
ies questions like "Why was Farrah
Fawcett so popular in 1976?" and "Is
Jerry Falwell an illusion?"
One evening the topic turned to Dis
ney, and Ann shared the above thought
with me. Two weeks later, after digest
ing the idea, a friend and I decided to
check it out. After spending a day in
the Magic Kingdom, I really have trou
ble refuting Ann's comment.
To get to Disney World, just outside
Orlando, you must drive along miles of
immaculate highway surrounded by
nothing but trees and acres of lush
grass. The distance gives you the im
pression that Disney is in another
world, far aw ay from the problems of a
bitchy boss or tight budget you might
have left back home.
To further plant the idea of seclu
sion in your mind, they make you board
a barge and ride across a lake, where
the Magic Kingdom majestically sits on
an island. As you step off the boat, you
leave everything behind you. You've
traveled millions of miles. No one
knows you here. It is, in fact, Never
Never Land. This is the land where it's
all right for a 33-year-old to marvel over
the bright red and blue balloons or
scream into the darkness of Space
Mountain, a roller-coaster ride into the
future.
In fact, some people, when visiting
Disney, choose to leave their identity
altogether. Take Marilyn, for example.
We talked with Marilyn while we stood
in line for a ride. She told us she's a
corrections officer in a Tennessee pri
son, just outside of Nashville. But 20
Country living accentuates sounds
lost in city's noisy hustle, bustle
CASCO BAY, Maine "Is it quiet
up there?" my friend asks wist
fully. She has called long dis
tance from her city to my countryside,
from her desk to my cottage.
"Tes," I answered. There is no urban
clatter here. No jarring cosmopolitan
Muzak of subway and construction,
rock and rush-hour voices. We are pro
tected. The waier thai surrounds ibis
island absorbs the din of the other
world. Yes, it is quiet up here.
But when I return to ir.y listening
post at the hammock. I know that I
hear more sounds than silence. The
motor of passing lobster boats, the
foghorn across the bay. the language of
minutes later she became Elvis Pres
ley's third cousin.
"Don't tell anyone, but we actually
slept together," she said, testing our
reaction. "We miss him dearly." She
even told us about the last dinner she
and Elvis had together: spaghetti and
meatballs.
You can't blame Marilyn, really, for
her tall tales. Disney puts you in the
mood. The magic is there. You feel it.
There's not one piece of trash on the
ground, despite the thousands of peo
ple standing around eating and drink
ing. Uniformed people somehow man
age to creep around your feet with
brooms and dustpans picking up
any little messy item that could sever
your bloodline with the Presleys.
Ad
Hudler
A friend who worked at Disney one
summer let me in on another secret:
workers get to and from their jobs by
underground tunnels. I guess there
wouldn't be much magic in seeing a
Disney employee w alk to the bathroom.
I even asked some of those employees
how they liked their work.
The operator at the Dumbo flying
elephant ride: "Oh, I love my job.
Really, 1 do." She smiled. There are no
crooked teeth in the Magic Kingdom,
no metal reminders that some of us
might have an imperfect ion or two.
Two other responses: "I love my job"
and "Oh, I really like my job. love
people."
Apparently the magic speaks in dol
lars, too.
I myself got caught up in the magic.
By 6 p.m. 1 had turned into Prince Val
a dozen different birds.
Slowly, I sift through the hundred
sounds that form this rural chorus. A
honeybee shopping the . rosehips in
Goodman
5 '
front of the porch, a vole rustling
through the bushes, a hawk piping its
song above me. If I concentrate, I
imagine th.it I can make out different
iant, walking with square, erect shoul
ders so my cape wouldn't drag on the
ground.
But an experience later in the even
ing shoved me back into reality. As my
friend and I (it wouldn't be very magi
cal if I released her name) rode through
the Pirates of the Caribbean, it sud
denly broke down.
GASP! Yes, broke down. And the
little characters that usually look alive
and realistic stopped working. The
recording kept repeating itself. And
there we sat in a boat with 13 Future
Homemakers of America from Helena,
Mont.
We sat there for an hour and a half,
until workers dressed as pirates actu
ally had to roll up their pantlegs, enter
the water and push our boats back
toward a rear entrance.
What we saw after that was a painful
reminder of reality.
Away from the magic, away from the
facades behind Pirates of the Carib
bean, sat another world. The real world,
where trash sits on the ground, where
pickups and decorative floats sit unoc
cupied and dead. Where, a friend told
me, the anonymity of Mickey Mouse
disappears as the costumes come off in
the humid Florida weather.
"Don't take any pictures," the woman
quickly reminded us with a smile.
"We'll have to confiscate your film if
you do."
Confiscate is a real word in a real
world.
We walked down a dark, secluded
street, toward a door held open by
another employee, the door back into
the Magic Kingdom.
But it wasn't the same once we
walked back inside. We had been
slapped in the face. The magic spell
had been broken. I left my Prince Val
iant cape back in the boat. And most
people, disillusioned, went home
where red and blue balloons and pirates
are for kids.
-. . t a i J hf.nnon
voices oi me wina muwns """"e"
alder, bayberry or birch. J
When I walk the island roads, I hear
my own footsteps on the dirt. When 1
read, I hear the pages of my book turn
With time, I may even be able to distin
guish the separate sounds the incorm
ing tide makes lapping at seaweed of
rock or mussel bed. . f
It h;ts taken me a week to tune into
these low decibels, to really hear thf
quiet. I do not live mv urban life at suc
a freuuenev. Like most city people,
have been trained to listen each d;
. . -.if
only to the squeakiest wheel.
See GOODMAN on
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