'
EDITOR
DougKouma
OPINION
EDITOR
Anthony Nguyen
EDITORIAL
BOARD
Paula Lavigne
Joshua Gillin
Jessica Kennedy
Jeff Randall
Erin Gibson
Guest
VIEW
Whose error?
Children pay price
for pushy parents
From The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
It’s official.
Instructor error killed 7-year-old Jessica
Dubroff last year when her small airplane took
off in a Wyoming
storm—with Jessica %%
at the controls.
Actually, tne
child — repeat child
—was being assisted
in flight by pilot/in
structor Joe Reid,
who also died in the
crash, along with a
third passenger,
Jessica’s father, Lloyd
Dubroff.
The National
Transportation Safety
Board has now
blamed Reid forpoor
judgment and for try
ing to keep a sched
ule to avoid being late
for planned media in
terviews along the
route of their trans
continental flight.
Sharp winds and
a spring storm felled
the plane shortly after
takeoff from Chey
enne. The plane was
96 pounds over
weight and its perfor
mance was encum
bered by the high al
titude of the Cheyenne
airport.
f rc
certainly
do not
allow
children to
drive
automo
biles. How
in the
world can
we justify
permitting
the kind of
stunt that
cost three
lives?
It has been said before, but it bears re
peating now that the NTSB has made its rul
ing: A 7-year-old has no business being at
the controls of an airplane.
We certainty do not allow children to drive
automobiles. How in the world can we jus
tify permitting the kind of stunt that cost three
lives?
We know, of course, that some parents
push their children to feats that their physical
development and mental acuity are incapable
ofhandling.
. ■ ■ ■ j
And we know that some parents live
through their children the lives they them
selves could not have.
Unfortunately, as young Jessica
DubrofTs premature death shows, the price
for that kind of behavior can be very high—
and very tragic.
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Spring 1997 Daily Nebraskan. They do not
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Mehsling’s
VIEW
o
Jessica
KENNEDY
Face-to-face with America
People-watching more than a pastime
One of my favorite lazy-day,
wasting-time activities is people
watching.
Not die perverted, illegal hobby
of being a peeping tom, but rather
the casual observation of behaviors,
styles, and personalities.
Communal places are rich in
observational material. I love
“shopping” at the mall, supermar
ket, Laundromat and union —
places where people’s guards are
down or they’re so involved in what
they’re doing, they’ve forgotten
about the people around diem—
settings where people are interacting
with each other and their surround
ings.
It’s kind of neat when you think
about it... these places offer you an
opportunity to lode into the eyes of
America. You can challenge yourself
to face those things that might make
you uncomfortable, to see what you
normally don’t (want to) see. It’s all
there—every type of person you
can think of.
Look at Laundry Land’s parking
lot next time you drive by. You’ll see
junkers and mini-vans and BMWs
—all side-by-side. Inside, the mix
gets even more interesting. All these
people sharing the same space. It’s
interesting watching people’s
behavior when they’re somewhere
they can’t leave. For example, in a
Laundromat you have people
dealing with their dirty laundry in
public, being bored, playing games,
etc. ...
For me, the premier people
watching sport is the bus. People
have to stay seated next to strangers,
and they really can’t look around
much. It’s easy to discreetiy observe
every nuance of a person. Each tells
you a little something about the
person and how he or she lives.
Without feeling too obtrusive, the
astute observer can see what
passengers are wearing, what
they’re carrying, how they hold
themselves, how they keep to
themselves and how they interact
with the people and the bus environ
ment.
If you don’t normally ride the
bus, take one this week during a
rush hour. The people you see are so
interesting. Businesspeople, students
and the elderly all ride the bus.
But the passengers I am truly
fascinated by are the elderly and the
poor. Each has so much to share
without ever knowing it.
So often forgotten by our busy,
rush-rush society, these people
deserve more than a passing glance.
I suspect that the mass transit’s poor
and elderly have interesting and
moving tales to tell.
I remember one woman in
particular who I rode with one
morning. She was probably about 65
or so and heavy-set with medium
length straggly, white hair and a
colorful array of polyester coats and
cotton flower-print shirts. On her
feet were tan, worn, creased SAS
shoes.
She carried with her several
plastic grocery bags and a couple of
large cotton bags. It was apparent
that die was a regular, as she chatted
about her neighbors and children
with the bus driver.
Wide, watery blue eyes darted
around the bus as she spoke,
conveying both cheerfulness and
tiredness.
Her chubby, wrinkled face was
rosy with excitement.
As the bus bounced over pot
holes, her feet swung freely, the tips
of her toes brushing the floor.
More recently, however, it has
been the younger generation that has
perplexed me and dominated my
people-watching time. I am at a loss
over some of the behaviors and
styles that are mainstreams these
days.
Bell-bottoms were ugly the first
time, neon colors (I thought) ran
their course in the ’80s and strappy
shoes were uncomfortable when our
mothers wore them, so why in the
world would we bring these obnox
ious fashions back?
Yet, here they are, sported by
lanky, Twiggy-esque teenagers. I
watch, in complete and utter
disbelief of the few short years that
separate these fashion oddities and
me.
And all the suburban kids saggin’
and packing beepers. What’s up
with that? I’ll probably never know,
but that’s OK, it’s fun to watch
them.
In the end, there are no rules, and
no one is safe from scrutiny. All that
you need is a commitment to
candidly survey society.
Head to the mall, head for the bus
stop and watch America in her
element. Pause a moment from
rushing through your life and
observe those lives around you.
So goes the sport of people
watching: seeing the unbelievable,
observing the unthinkable, watching
the unwatchable.
Kennedy is a senior advertising
and broadcasting major and a
Daily Nebraskan columnist
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