Opinion
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Decency police boosting 2 Live Crew
An Omaha city councilman and members of the citizens’
group Omaha for Decency are trying to make their city
as moral as they wanna be.
But in publicizing the material they seek to suppress, the
decency police are merely helping their enemies.
Councilman Steve Exon and Omaha for Decency ran a little
sting operation last weekend, sending four teen-agers into nine
Omaha record stores to attempt to purchase 2 Live Crew’s
“Sports Weekend” recording. “Sports Weekend” carries an all
too-familiar “Parental Advi
sory Explicit Lyrics” industry
label, which means many
stores around the country
won’t sell it to minors under
18.
However, six of the
Omaha stores did — and
Exon has called for prosecu
tion of the owners involved.
Nebraska state law prohib
its distribution of pornogra
phy to juveniles. Gary
Bucchino, Omaha city
prosecutor, said Wednesday
he had not decided whether to
press charges.
The idea of a judge — or
anyone, for that matter— de
termining for the rest of
society whether a song is obscene goes against the supposed
ideals of this nation. These arguments have been brought up
time and time belorc.
Apparently Exon and the the decency patrol haven’t been
listening.
But rapper Luther Campbell of 2 Live Crew has.
Campbell announced he will visit one of Exon’s targeted
stores Friday as his way of opposing government controls on
who can buy his albums. We’re sure his Omaha stopover will
se\« many a 2 Live Crew recording.
With groups like Omaha for Decency working for him,
Campbell doesn’t need much in the way of advertising. While
his group’s songs arc ridiculous and offensive, teen-agers have
long been known to want what authorities say they can’t have.
Much of Campbell’s rap is not worth listening to, but he is
right in asserting that parents, not the government, should
determine what kids can and cannot hear. Unfortunately, some
parents don’t care what their children do, but strongarm
alternatives rife with dangerous government intrusions arc not
the answer.
Maybe 2 Live Crew Director of Omaha Publicity Exon
should spend more time thinking less about others’ morality
and spending more time just plain thinking.
Condoms unsafe against AIDS
To me, it is incredible that you
want to educate people about HIV
and AIDS (Sower supplement, DN,
April 15) and then make such an
egregious error as to quote an alleged
counselor, “Martha,” as saying the
disease is almost 100 percent pre
ventable. Condoms, she says, “have
proven to be 99.8 percent effective.”
This is not true.
Why don’t you check out your
facts? Condom failure rale is at least
10 percent. Why do surgeons now
wear special Kevlar gloves when
working on people with AIDS? Think!
People, you accuse UNL of losing its
focus and then you report as truth
what we have been saying for years is
a lie — that condoms arc safe.
Also, confidential HIV testing is
offered at the University Health Center.
Our medical records are as confiden
tial as medical records can be. We do
not offer anonymous testing. How
can we help the patient with HIV
when we don’t know what the prob
lem is? Records arc not released to
anyone outside of UHC without the
patient’s signed consent except as
provided for by law, c.g., by sub
poena.
Mr. Moore says the Gay/Lcsbian/
Bisexual Student Association has
“more current information than the
Health Center. That’s very wrong.” I
say, “baloney” to Mr. Moore. Has he
been here to see what information we
have? I maintain an up-to-date file on
HIV/AIDS. The University Health
Center has available plenty o/ litera
ture for those people who are inter
ested.
Ralph A. Ewert, M.D.
chief of staff
University Health Center
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JANA PEDERSEN
Baseball free of time-tyranny
Another sweltering summer Sat
urday left a friend and I with
nothing to do but sit inside
and watch television over the roar of
the air conditioner.
Then, just as Captain Planet was
rescuing the Plancteers from certain
doom, the roar stopped. Our air con
ditioner, always on the fritz, had blown
another fuse.
We were used to this routine: We’d
jump in the car and putt to Russ’s for
a package of fuses. And if we were
lucky, the replacements would keep
the juice flowing until a cool evening
brec/c could provide natural relief.
But when we got in the car this
lime, the air conditioning felt good.
So good, in fact, that we drove right
past Russ’s, right onto Highway 2 and
right out of town.
After all, the Mets were playing in
St. Louis, and Busch Stadium was
just one wonderfully cool, 8-hour ride
away.
We got to St. Louis late, and found
a hotel somewhere in Illinois much
later. At the stadium bright and early
the next morning, we saw Doc and El
Sid on the way to the locker room. We
got autographs from David Cone and
Keith Miller, who still was a Mel
then, and Homo’s sunglasses weren’t
enough to stop the cameras from flash
ing.
The Mels lost the long afternoon
game, but that mattered little to a
couple of fans. As my friend said,
“Even the best teams lose 60 a year.’’
Oh, baseball. America’s sport. Mom
and apple pic.
A typical fan’s love of the game
falls somewhere between the San Diego
Chicken’s intra-inning fanaticism and
Susan Sarandon’s Bull-Durham wor
ship.
The game’s appeal should be no
mystery. After all, no other sport is as
timeless as baseball.
In all the years of the game, little
has changed but the uniforms, and
even those arc regressing to the style
of the old fellows.
Most bats still are wooden. Most
parks still arc grass. Most home runs
still send a lift to the heart.
And everyone knows of Bobby
Thompson’s king smash that meant,
‘THE GIANTS WIN THE PEN
NANT. THE GIANTS WIN THE
PENNANT."
As a 7-ycar-old, I made the All
Star team with the best cut in Little
League. My team, the Rangers, battled
all the way to the town’s World Se
ries, along with seven other teams. I
think we finished somewhere in the
middle, but all the certificates read,
“You arc a winner.”
To some, the endless
cap-straightening.
digging-in and sig
nal-sending make,
baseball tedious. But
a true [an eqjtm the.
intricacies of such
momMs.
While I gave up my baseball ca
reer at an early age, to this day I still
love the game.
Others can cry foul over big-ticket
salaries and high-priced ballpark hot
dogs, but not me. I’ll spend 20 bucks
in an instant to hear the crack of Kirby
Puckett’s bat.
My brother, the world’s biggest
Twins fan, paid much more than that
to install a satellite dish in his yard so
he could track the Twins’ season via
Minneapolis radio.
That may seem silly to some, as
would a last-minute 8-hour drive to a
St. Louis game. Maybe my brother’s
dish and our trip were bursts of crazy
spontaneity; but then, baseball docs
inspire such nonsense in its fans.
My brother says baseball’s popu
larity comes from its leisurely pace.
A simple concept, really, but base
ball, unlike most other sports, has no
game clock.
Football allows IS minutes a quar
ter. Basketball has 24 minutes a half
and gives 24 seconds to shoot. Hockey
players get two-minute penalties for
tripping. Even gymnasts must dis
mount the balance beam in less than a
minute and a half.
But an inning literally can last
forever.
To some, the endless cap-straight
ening, digging-in and signal-sending
make baseball tedious. But a true fan
enjoys the intricacies of such mo
ments.
A catcher may notice his pitcher’s
slider falling off, so he’ll call a con
ference at the mound.
A bailer may tighten his glove,
knock the mud off his shoes, spit,
check signs, pray and adjust his uni
form before stepping into the box.
A base runner’s effort to steal could
bring several throws to first base in
stead of home plate.
A manager might sprint from the
dugout to question a close call.
Even the beleaguered umpire can
stop the game, perhaps simply to check
the ball for scuffs.
Fans of other sports claim there’s
nothing like a game-winning shot, or
pass, or goal that barely beats the
buzzer. But I’ll take a lOth-inning
pitcher’s duel any day, regardless of
all the cap-straightening.
In another sport, such action — or
lack of it — would draw a penally for
delaying the game. But that’s all part
of what makes baseball perfectly
American.
American culture is dominated by
the wristwatch. We get our educa
tion, meals, consumer goods, work
ing days, entertainment and even our
deaths and babies by the minute.
I was bom at 9:01 p.m. We put the
newspaper to bed by 3 a.m. Econom
ics class ends at 1:40 p.m. The movie
starts at 9:15.
Baseball is the anti thesisof Ameri
can indoctrination. A game can take
all day, a double-header well into the
night. Baseball fans know belter than
to make definite plans for after the
game. After all, who knows when it
will end?
It is this freedom from social con
trol that draws people of all back
grounds to baseball, regardless of the
team colors each fan brings to the
game.
When my friend and I made our St.
Louis fun run, we felt pretty silly
cheering for the visitors. Across the
waving mass of Cardinal-red head
gear, our little blue caps stuck out
awkwardly as the score stretched to
9-0 St. Louis.
Then, a late-game rally found a
Met on third, brought home by a pop
fly that barely reached right field.
Although the next batter struck out
and the score remained 9-1, my friend
and I were pleased to spot a comrade
in the crowd: a lone man in a striped
Mels jersey holding high a banner
blue New York pennant.
The wave of red soon swept him
up, but for a moment we waved our
caps in return.
The afternoon gone, we trudged to
the parking ramp and turned our Escort
westward again.
The eight hours ahead were sure to
be just as cool, and as leisurely, as the
ones we’d left behind.
Pedersen Is a senior news-editorial and
advertising major and editor of the Daily
Nebraskan.
