I NelSraskan a n r - , Poge
Monday, December 11,1989 AflS & ElltCrtcIlllIllCIlt 9
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[Activism adjusts to 1979-80 materialism
Editor’s Note: As the 1980s
draw to a close, members of the
Daily Nebraskan staff would like to
take this opportunity to let readers
take a stroll with them down mem
ory lane.
By Gretchen Boehr
Senior Reporter
The 1979-80 school year at the
.
University of Nebraska-Lincoln was
at the end of the radical individual
freedom movement of the ’60s and
’70s.
Even though the UNL campus
wasn’t as wrought with political
upheaval as the Berkeley campus
during the Vietnam War, students
were still questioning the govern
ment and all authority.
Hippies became prominent in the
’60s and earned their place in Web
ster’s Dictionary as:4 ‘a young person
who rejects established mores, advo
cates non-violence, and often uses
psychedelic drugs or marijuana; a
long-haired, unconventionally
dressed young person.”
But in the late ’70s and early ’80s
drugs were no longer considered the
open door to mind expansion, but the
basic values of those involved in the
hippie movement were still alive as
people searched for more conserva
tive means to achieve their goals.
The emphasis in the ’70s was more
about what the individual could get
from government.
And in 1980 students and faculty
at the University of Nebraska-Lin
coln were trying to Fit these ideals of
the ’70s into more conservative
means.
In October 1979 smoking in class
began to decline, according to profes
sors at UNL.
Smoking in class had been seen as
a means of rebelling against author
ity, and as the ’80s approached this
decline in rebelliousness signaled a
mellowing of the student body.
Marijuana smoke-ins also were
less popular as 1980 wore on.
Also, UNL students demanded the
NU Board of Regents to reverse a
policy that prohibited using student
fees to pay for political speakers. The
original policy came about after the
Young Americans for Freedom com
plained that they should not pay for
speakers who disagreed with their
political beliefs.
In December 1979, the regents
honored the students’ request and the
policy was reversed as the regents
realized that students were open to a
wide range of speakers and opinions.
Another indication of political
activism on campus was the protest of
a gift of South African gold coins
given to the NU Foundation Feb. 11,
1980.
The Afrikan Peoples Union in
particular fought to force the founda
tion to give up the coins without suc
cess.
As students sought to change uni
versity policies, voter turnout for the
March 1980 AS UN elections was the
highest in nine years.
But freedom of individual expres
sion was not dead at the UNL cam
pus. For example, a student-owned
radio station was set up in Abel Resi
dence Hall.
Even roller disco found its place in
Nebraska and this craze struck with
full force at UNL.
In 1980 students seemed very
aware of what was going on around
them and dared to peacefully chal
lenge authority.
For example, the regents were
faced with protests by ASUN against
a tuition increase for the 1980-81
school year.
Money was a dilemma as students
of the early ’80s had to deal with high
inflation rates. And according to an
Oct. 4 DN article, inflation in Octo
ber 1979 was discouraging students
from opening savings accounts.
As the ’70s drew to a close and the
’80s began, the radical questioning of
authority was replaced with more
conservative action. Materialism and
the transformation of hippie to yup
pie became a sign of the time, a
symbol of the ’80s.
1980-81 marked the change of an
entertainment era for UNL students
Editor’s Note: As the 1980s
draw to a close, members of the
Daily Nebraskan staff would like to
take this opportunity to let readers
take a stroll with them down mem
ory lane.
By Stacey McKenzie
Staff Reviewer
It was one of those years people
reflect on and ask “Where were you
when ... died?”
It was Dec. 8, 1980 and John
Lennon had been shot.
The murder of John Lennon shook
Lincoln and the world. Students
stood outside the University of Nc
braska-Lincoln City Union with post
ers saying “We love John Lennon.”
paying tribute to a legend they
couldn’t believe was dead. Papers
were sold out the next day and KFMQ
received more than 300 calls an hour.
One employee said that “people
were calling ... numb.”
The death of Lennon, his musical
era and the onslaught of a new punk
form spurred national change in the
entertainment scene. Coinciding
with these national changes were
local changes in entertainment.
During the early ’80s, UNL stu
dents were into music, music and
more music. Groups like Fleetwood
Mac and Van Halcn were only a few
of the bands to pack the Omaha Civic
Auditorium. Performing at
Rosenblatt were The Doobic Broth
crs, Pal Benatar and Sammy Hagar.
Country music stars Kenny Rogers
and Dottie West dominated the Ne
braska Stale Fair, selling nearly
20,000 tickets for their shows.
Waves of a new culture, called
punk, were storming across the conti
nent but were slow to trickle into the
Midwest. However, some punk influ
ences did begin to sho# in people’s
musical tastes. Punk groups like The
Rebates, The Polka Dots and Richard
Nixon were performing in Omaha’s
Old Market. The new hard, fast, high
energy music influenced some hard
line rockers to listen to the Cars, and
other quasi-new wave bands.
The Cars played to a sellout audi
ence of 11,300 on Oct. 5,1980. Their
current release, “Panorama,” was
popular for its quirky songs, Devo
See 1980-81 on 10
race triggers memories
Junior high bully arrested
Editor’s Note: As the 1980s
draw to a close, members of the
Daily Nebraskan Staff would like to
take this opportunity to let readers
take a stroll with them down mem
ory lane.
By John Payne
Staff Reviewer
All sorts of insane thoughts race
through your brain when you arc
awakened by the police at 5 a.m. You
start putting together every possible
scenario that would bring the Lincoln
Police Department to your front door
in the early morning hours, and you
start to worry about what you may
have done the previous evening.
There was no logical reason for a
cop to be knocking at my door at 5
a.m., but there he was, and when I
asked him again “who?” He re
peated, “Lincoln Police Depart
Imcnt.”
I was having the strangest dream
that I was marooned on a distant
planet with all these really fine-look
ing women and an unlimited supply
of Bud Light, so it look awhile to
adjust back to reality. I opened the
door and asked him politely what the
trouble was. (One should always be a
little extra-polite when dealing with
the police, trust me.)
It seemed some fleabag had tried
to steal my golf clubs out of my car
and this fine officer had caught the
would-be thief in the act. And so now
I was required to go outside and iden
tify my clubs before the perpetrator
could be taken down to the station,
booked and all that.
How rude. I remember mumbling
to myself, as I stepped into my furry
bunny slippers, “this world has really
turned to crap when some yahoo tries
to steal another man’s Tommy Ar
mours,” and stomped out into the
cold morning air. And when I walked
up to the squad car to have a look in
back and see just what kind of a man
would do this to another man in the
middle-of-the-night, I saw a face that
I knew like my own, a face that
immediately took me back to 1981 --
junior high.
Steve. I didn’t even have to think
about it. I remembered him, and had
thought about him often over the past
seven years.
To say that Steve was a bully in
junior high would be a bit like saying
that that Charles Manson fellow
needed to mind his manners. No, he
was not a bully, he was a terrorist, and
his favorite pastime was finding new
ways to terrorize yours truly.
Steve had friends, or maybe ac
complices is a better word. They were
all older than me, by a year, and
almost everything they liked to do
involved spitting. They would spit on
younger kids — on their jackets, on
their sneakers and in their hair.
Bus rides could be a traumatic
experience if you were unlucky
enough to be sitting close to these
guys because they liked to spit on the
ceiling of the bus, and watch it drip
down onto other passengers.
wnen tney ran out oi spit iney
would spit sunflower seeds, and if
there was nobody else around to spit
on, they would spit on each other, but
nobody ever spit on Steve.
My most vivid memory of these
guys was morning gym class. After
everyone else had put on his jock and
headed out to the gym, Steve and his
friends would stick around to perform
a little ritual on somebody’s combi
nation lock.
First, one of them would very deli
cately wrap the lock in a couple lay
ers of toilet paper. After the paper had
been secured, the four of them would
summon up all of their collective
mucus and bombard the lock until the
paper was sufficiently soaked.
Every day they would do this, and
every day some unsuspecting geek
would come back to the locker room,
all sweaty, and find his Master Lock
engulfed in a glump of phlegm. And
he would have to find a way to deal
with it, get dressed, and gel to his next
class on time. Occasionally they
would do this to each other, but no
one ever did it to Steve.
There were other dangers, such as
playing basketball with Steve over
the lunch-hour. “21” was the popu
lar game during recess, wherein the
object is to score a total of 21 points,
and the first one to do so wins. Steve
liked to play it a little different,
though. After getting a rebound, he
would dribble to the outside, and get
behind someone. Just when you
would turn to face the hoop, thinking
that he was going to put up the shot,
Steve would bounce the ball off the
back of your head as hard as he could,
then shoot.
For the longest time my skull was
(
John Bruce/Oaily Nebraskan
his favorite target, and I still worry
about permanent brain damage. This
little trick caught on and soon other
kids were bouncing basketballs off
each other’s heads and giving each
other brain damage, but no one ever
did it to Steve.
1 once asked Steve’s best friend
Dino why Steve had it in for me so
much. He said it had something to do
with my lace.
I used to always regret not stand
ing up to Steve, and he had me haling
myself because of it. But you sec,
there arc lovers and there are fighters,
and while I wasn’t much of either, I
definitely wasn’t a fighter.
I remember once hearing about
how Steve was going to gel in a fight
with this kid who was a lot bigger
than I was, and I thought “this is
going to be great.’’ I didn’t see the
fight, but this guy wasn’t in school for
a couple of weeks and when he came
back his jaw had been wired shut and
he had undergone major dental sur
gery.
But now that I’m older I realize
that I am a better person because of
Sieve. 1 mean, any two-bit brute can
think of new ways to terrorize little
kids, but it takesa clever individual to
learn how to avoid him. I did my
homework every night, and every day
1 came to school prepared. I knew
what exits I would take, what routes
to the parking lot were best, and all
the doorways in which a scrawny kid
could duck. Living in fear turned me
into a crafty young man, and for that
1 guess 1 should be thankful to Steve.
As I caught that first glance of him
in the back of the squad car I was
struck by the weirdest feeling -1 kind
of miss those days. 1 kind of miss
living on the edge like that.
Watching the expression on
Steve’s face when he recognized me
was all the redemption I needed. He
had that look on his face that you get
when you step in dog crap and slowly
begin to realize it. It’s that “uh-oh”
look. And then, standing there in my
bunny slippers, I stuck my face up to
the window, looked him dead in the
eye and I said, “If you ever touch my
golf clubs or my car again, I’m going
to kick your . ” No one had ever
said that to Sieve.
