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The answer to the test question
K \I\B<)\\ KOW I I I,
Editing: all grammar, no glorv
Coming back to school wasn’t a
big change of pace for me this year.
Back to school meant back to work,
back to editing for the old Daily
Nebraskan.
You see, I spent my entire summer
in a newsroom. I was an intern at the
Omaha World-Herald.
For the first six weeks, I was a
reporter. There’s nothing exciting to
tell you about being a reporter.
You’ve seen “Lois and Clark.”
But for the last six weeks of the
summer, I was a copy editor. Copy
editing is a not a well-known
profession. Most kids don’t say they
want to be a copy editor when they
grow up. Nobody dresses up like a
copy editor for Halloween.
Most people don’t even know, or
probably care, what a copy editor
docs.
A lot of the confusion is tied to the
word “editor.” The editor of a
newspaper is the head honcho, the
big cheese, the Arthur Carlson of the
newsroom.
Then there arc a string of lesser
head honchos — managing editors,
city editors, executive editors and
their assistants.
But an editor— not THE editor,
just AN editor—especially an
editing intern like me, is no cheese at
all, not even a snack-sized cheese
cube or an hors d’oeuvre, the Les
Nessman of the newsroom.
I was a copy editor. A copy editor
reads stories, checks for errors and
writes headlines. After I read the
story, a more experienced copy editor
read it and checked my headline.
My mother never quite understood
my role at the paper. “Rainbow’s an
EDITOR,” she’d say, in all capital
letters, to anyone who would listen.
“Oh,” the listener would politely
respond, “what do you do?”
“Check spelling,” I’d say.
“She’s always been an excellent
speller,” my mother would rave. “Ask
Little by little, my priorities were %
warped. 1 noticed bad grammar
everywhere. I'd get out a red pen to
edit my personal mail— Visa bills
and sweepstakes. "Dammit, Ed, it's
'who,' not 'whom.'”
her to spell something, anything, go
on.”
And so they would just to appease
my mother. And so I’d spell for them.
“Separate.” “Accommodate.”
“Onomatopoeia.”
I think Mom imagined me sitting
all day in a plush leather chair,
answering spelling questions for my
underlings. She probably envisioned a
_ brass sign on my desk reading,
“Rainbow Rowell, Editor.”
In reality, I didn’t have a desk. I
had a chair, if I could find one that
someone wasn’t using. I liked to
stand around looking innocent until
real employees had to use the
bathroom. You move it, you lose it.
I worked Tuesday through
Saturday, 3 p.m. to midnight. And
that was a good schedule; some of the
copy editors had Tuesdays and
Wednesdays off. And not just for 12
weeks. Some of them hadn’t seen
“Saturday Night Live” since the
Eddie Murphy years.
Copy editors at that paper worked
late. The news kept coming in until
10 p.m. or 11 p.m.
I became educated about our crazy
world. 1 came dangerously close to
understanding current events. For six
weeks I almost knew what was
happening in Haiti, Rwanda, Cuba
and Bosnia.
And 1 went to the bathroom a lot.
When you sit at a computer terminal
for nine hours, drinking little plastic
cups of Diet Coke, restroom visits are
a welcome break in the routine.
Now, don’t get me wrong. My
weeks on the copy desk were a lot of
fun, but that sort of job makes you
weird after a while.
Little by little, my priorities were
warped. I noticed bad grammar
everywhere. I’d get out a red pen to
edit my personal mail — Visa bills
and sweepstakes. “Dammit, Ed, it’s
‘who,’ not ‘whom.’”
Copy editors don’t get bylines or
much attention. They’re the newspa
per’s cleanup crew. They get all the
messy jobs and none of the glory.
And they take grammar very, very
seriously.
The difference between “that” and
“which” and the proper placement of
commas arc rules most people never
stop to learn. But for copy editors,
those rules come somewhere between
“Thou shall not steal” and “Thou
shall not covet thy neighbor’s wife.”
I started at the DN the day after I
left the World-Herald. Things arc
different here. The DN puts out one
edition a day, not five or six.
The World-Herald gave me a nice
pen-and-pencil set. At the DN, we
fight over grease pencils.
But even here in the minor
leagues, you’ve got to watch where
you put those commas.
Rowell it a junior newi-editorial,
advertising and English major and a Daily
Nebraskan associate news editor.
.1 win- k \m
Forrest Gump: America’s boy
“America’s Gone Gump!”
according to the newspaper ads. After
finally seeing the movie “Foncst
Gump,” I hope the newspaper ads are
right.
“Forrest Gump” is based on the
life and times of an Alabama boy
crippled with leg braces and an IQ of
only 75. The story begins in the ’50s,
with Forrest’s spirited mother (played
by Sally Field) pleading with the
boy’s principal not to send her son to
a “special school.”
To get her son into public school,
she sleeps with the repulsive,
perverted principal. Forrest (played
by Tom Hanks), who has no father
figure, not only loves his mother for
all she docs for him but also idolizes
her, quoting her maxims throughout
his life.
On the first day of school, Forrest
befriends a pretty blonde, Jenny, who
will be his only friend throughout his
school days. The separate paths the
two travel as they grow older—and
the different values by which they live
their lives — make the movie.
Always being chased by bullies,
Forrest learns to run, even in his leg
braces. On one particular autumn
day, Forrest is pelted with rocks
thrown by the bullies. Jenny tells
Forrest to run, and run he does. He
runs so fast, he breaks right out of his
braces, leaving the bullies to cal his
dust.
And Forrest keeps on running—*•
all the way to becoming an All
American for Bear Bryant’s Alabama
football team. He even meets JFK as a
member of the All-American team.
Meanwhile, Jenny poses for Playboy,
gets tossed out or college, works at a
strip bar and dreams of being a
singing beatnik.
Forrest is forever faithful to Jenny;
he wails for her, even as she comes
home from dates. But Jenny is like
the Army—open to all men between
18 and 45. She is sluttish and grows
impatient with Forrest’s persistence
and with her Alabama home. When
Forrest gels drafted, Jenny goes
hippie and heads to the East Coast.
In "Forrest Cump, ” the true heroes,
both black and white, come from
the small towns of the South. The
human debris comes from Berkeley
and Woodstock..
In ihc Army, Forrest meets a not
so-bright black youth named Bubba.
who dreams of being a shrimp boat
captain. The two become such good
friends that Bubba ofTcrs Forrest the
job of first mate on his boat once they
arc out of the Army.
Forrest and Bubba arc sent to
Vietnam. In the depths of the
Vietnam jungle, Forrest’s platoon is
ambushed. Forrest’s commander, Lt.
Dan, orders a retreat. Faster than
anyone else, Forrest is the only one
who makes it out of the jungle.
Thinking of Bubba, he goes back in.
rescuing seven of his fallen comrades
— including Lt. Dan and Bubba, who
dies in Forrest’s arms.
Upon his return to the United
States. Forrest is given the Medal of
Honor by Lyndon Johnson. While in .
Washington, he again runs into
Jenny, who introduces him to the
leaders of a peace rally.
As Forrest, wounded war hero,
stands straight and at attention, a
group of Black Panthers yell in his
face about the failings of America. In
the background, Jenny’s boyfriend
slaps her for bringing a military man
to the Panther party. Forrest secs the
slap and pounds the hippie boy
friend’s face into something resem
bling a blob of strawberry Jcll-O, only
to have Jenny yell at him again.
The movie presents a message
throughout its story: Forrest, though a
slow and simple being, always does
the right thing. And in doing so, he
becomes an all-American football
player, a war hero, a world pingpong
champion, a shrimp boat captain, a
famous marathon runner and a
millionaire who gives all his money
to charity.
And what about Jenny?
Well, Jenny joins the subculture:
sex, pot, acid, intravenous drugs,
hippie philosophy, the anti-American
peace movement, suicide attempts
and finally a virus (presumably the
AIDS virus) from which she dies —
the ultimate consequence for the life
she has led.
Throughout his life, Forrest is
asked, “Boy, arc you crazy or just
plain stupid?” His response to his
critics: “Stupid is as stupid does.”
Those words are more than just
Forrest’s snappy retort; they are the
message of the film.
Jenny, bom pretty and intelligent,
follows the ways of the counterculture
in the ’60s and ’70s. Because of her
lifestyle, she dies young — the result
of acting stupid. Forrest, despite his
handicaps, docs what he knows is
right and, in the end, wins fame,
fortune, honor and love.
Forrest, the character, is every
thing good about America. The
movie celebrates the values of most
Americans — family, friendship,
faith and decency.
“Life is like a box of chocolates,"
Forrest says. “You never know what
you’re going to gel.” The same holds
true at the movie theater, and in
“Forrest Gump," we have found
ourselves a gem.
Karl ii a junior news-editorial and polit
ical science major and a Dally Nebraskan
columnist and staff reporter.
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 7:00 PM
Fifth Annual
SERVICE OF CELEBRATION
AND DEDICATION
FOR THE
NEW ACADEMIC YEAR
at
CORNERSTONE-UMHE
640 North 16th Street
A Special Service of Worship
for
All UNL Students, Faculty & Staff
SPEAKER: DR. SHERAN L. CRAMER
Assistant Professor of Family & Consumer Sciences
Chain United Methodist Conference Board of
Higher Education & Campus Ministry
UNL UNIVERSITY SINGERS - Dr. James Hejduk, Conductor
AN INFORMAL RECEPTION WILL FOLLOW THE SERVICE
All are cordially invited
This Fifth Annual Celebration is co-sponsored by the
Cornerstone campus ministry at UNL in partnership
with Twenty One Lincoln-area Congregations
HUSKER FANS
You are invited to a
FREE CELEBRATION
at Memorial Stadium
September 16
Stadium gates open at 6:30 p.m.
Fun and excitement
for the whole family!
Enjoy the NU marching band, fireworks,
concessions, the new sound system and the
instant replay boards! Stop by the tent near
the southwest comer of the stadium to meet
coaches and athletes and to purchase
Husker media guides, programs and posters.
FREE TO ALL!
