OCR Text |
Show DAVIS COUNTY CLIPPER Tuesday, September 28, 1 993 A5 Opinion Today's Editorial JMSlEESMMl Wed like to hear from you. What is YOUR opinion? 4 Mail your comments to: .V Clipper Publishing 1370 So. 500 W. Bountiful, Utah 84010 In Our Opinion education I should be cut to two Four-ye- ar ; Is the cost of college worth the result? Thats a question that parents and students are asking as the skyrocketing cost of attending classes beyond high school continues to escalate. In the early 60s the cost to attend the University of Utah was $15 each quarter, today the cost is $646 for a quarter, with an estimated $8,500 price tag for a four-yedegree. Projections by the U indicate that will escalate to $98,000 by the year 2005 if today's trends continue. Would it be better to give an $98,000 to invest in 2005 or send him to college? Which would produce the greatest financial benefit? Experts might disagree on the answer, but even if the financial outcome would be greater with a stock market investment, would it be more valuable? That's a question which cannot be answered in dollars and cents. The intrinsic value of education cannot be measured. But not all education comes from college. In todays crowded college classrooms, learning is rare. Often there are 400 plus students vying for the attention of a teacher's aid. A professor leading a discussion is an enigma. Yet some still suggest the only education is a four-yecollege degree. Anything less than that is looked upon as trivial. But earning a four-yedegree is taking the average student over six years, and that's with dedication. Many "career students" spend the better part of their 20s taking endless night classes in search of the illusive college degree. The answer is simple, shorten the time. r, d A regimented course of study as as a would benefit a student greatly haphazard four-yestint which stretches into six. The cost would be cut in half, opening the world of education to those whom in the past . could only stand on the threshold of education, but never become a welcome guest. An educated population benefits the entire society. But today's education system is geared only to the best and the brightest. That would change with a change in the way we define education. It is imperative that everyone posses a liberal education in order for them certain level of to survive in today's world. That education does not take six quarters to attain as is currently required in college. In a two-yesystem, the first four quarters could be devoted to lib-eand the last four quarters to a specific area of study. committment to Many who cannot make a four-ye. college would be able to earn a degree in a two-yeintensive course of study. Many parents could afford to pay for a two-yeeducation, freeing the student from the financial burden of college which would allow a student to concentrate on school, not finding a job. With a two-yeplan, the student could chose to spend the second year of study in a technical or an academic field depending on the student's choice. Education for education's sake is still a critical need. Thomas Henry Huxley who lived in the 1800s wrote, "The only medicine for suffering, crime and all the other woes of mankind in wisdom." In today's world that is even more true. It's important that we all have some common education. Education should be for the masses not for the few. How many Utah families will be able to afford a $98,000 education for their children in the year 2005? With the current average state income at less than $20,000 few will be able to foot the bill for a four-yedegree. Lets change the system. 12-ho- ur ! ar TV censors1 vision clouded by tears article which focuses on their concerns. Read it carefully: "Television broadcasters cannot be asked to solve life's problems. But they can be expected to display adult leadership and responsibility in areas where they do have some significant influence. "Family counselors have wisely noted that ours is still a culture in a ar ar two-yea- year-roun- ar , so-call- ed The main topic of conversation last week was not Pres. Clinton's proposal for health care reform. issue Rather, the most talked-abowas KTVXs decision to broadcast "NYPD Blue," a rather dark look at life behind a badge. The jury is still out concerning the the quality of the TV serics--bnumbers are in! Thanks to the protest crowd, the show was wildly successful: Number one in its time s!ot...sold-ou- t advertising.. .an 83 percent approval rating from Utah callers to KTVX. The protesters may whimper, but the boycott backfired. The "blue" series delivered a "black eye" to the State PTA, the Eagle Forum and the Zion League for Decency. However, I admire the protesters for "speaking out"-a- nd as an award, I offer them the following news ut ut stage of frantic and tense transition. ..Teenagers are susceptible to over stimulation. What is new, however, is the willingness and indeed eagerness of reputable businessmen to exploit those critical factors. "Television is surely not the only culprit.. .But of all these businesses, television is in a unique position. First and foremost, it has direct access to the home. Second, the broadcasters are not only addressing themselves to the teenagers, but also to lower age groups. It is on this score that the adult viewer has every right to expect sympathetic understanding and cooperation from a broadcaster...Selfish exploitation of youth's physical impulses is a gross national disservice. "The issue is not one of censorship; it is one of common sense. It is no impingement on the medium's artistic freedom to ask the broadcaster merely to exercise good sense and display responsibility... "Every day, viewers hear a gags, barrage of undulating girls and attacks on the American Establishment. Dramas and soap operas often deal graphically with such topics as illegitimacy, adultery and premarital sex. Talk shows now openly discuss homosexuality, free love, suicide, suburban sex life and the problems of transvestites. Network officials generally agree that this movement is a reflection of the changing moral values of American society but they have also encouraged and nurtured the double-entendr- e once-tabo- o trend. "To resort to the world's oldest theatrical come-ojust to make a fast buck is cheap and tawdry...Today's youth may well ask what God these adults n " worship. This could have come right from the news release files of the late Joy Beech. Those kiddies protesting outside the KTVX studio last week can make mom-prompt- copies of the above article and flood the ABC offices with first-clamail. The Utah PTA can include the article in its newsletter. But there's only one problem. The article was not about "NYPD Blue." The article had nothing to do with ABC or KTVX. The above article claiming that TV programs were destroying family values was written in 1956 by the "New York Times" television critic. And why was he complaining? Because CBS had dared show the and "tongue disturbing "strip-teas- e movements" of a singer named Elvis Presley. Like today, the "moral minority" was complaining that America was on the verge of collapse. Now, 37 years later, Elvis Presley is hardly considered the Sultan of Sin. In fact, I imagine some of the "NYPD Blue" protesters believe "Love Me Tender" is an example of good American entertainment. Some things never change. And, thank goodness, one of them is that censorship doesn't work. The censors (to quote Presley) are nothing but hound dogs, crying all the time. ss ar d, ' ar ar Magic comes when least expected three-wheel- ar !- ar Published semi-week- ly John Stable, Sr. publisher 1892-195- 4 by Clipper Publishing Co., Inc. John stable, Jr. publisher 1954-198- 9 Stahle publisher Judy Jensen managing editor 1370 South 500 West, Bountiful, Utah 84010 R. Gail ISSN: Publication No. (USPS 1061-122- 3 published 149-18- semi-weekl- on y Tuesday and Friday except the week of Christmas and New Years at Bountiful, Utah. Second class postage paid at Bountiful, Utah. Address all correspondence to P.O. Box 267, Bountiful, Utah 84011-026Subscnption rate: 50e per copy. $20.00 per year, Mailed: $30.00 per year. News Advertising Circulation Classified FAX 295-225- 1 292-205- 8 292-202- 2 295-304- Office Hours: 8 30-- 4 30 Mon. thru Fri. DEADLINES TUESDAY PAPER Monday Noon Thurs. 5pm Classified Ads Display Advertising If Prool Required and Color 24 Hours In Advance Wed. & Photos News Articles Obituaries Accepted Until 11am Mon. Friday 5pm Public Notices DEADLINES FRIDAY PAPER Display Advertising Classified Ads POSTMASTER We all start out knowing author Robert R. McCammon says in his book Boy's Life. We are born with whirlwinds, forest fires, and comets inside us. We are born able to sing to birds and read the clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand. But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls. We get it churched out, spanked out, washed out, and combed out. We get put on the straight and narrow and told to be responsible. Told to act our age. With these words in mind, I embarked on a High Uintas excursion on a clear day last summer with my Siberian Husky, Bonnie. I was determined to recapture the magic of childhood, and I was convinced a pristine setting would aid me in my search. But 20 miles into the hike, I felt anything but magical.. I felt exactly like what I was: an overweight, man in his suffering from a divorce and having an early midlife crisis. My backpack cut into my shoulders and my legs were like lead, plodding along at a snails pace. Pebbles on the trail seemed more like boulders, and the gentle slope I was climbing might as well have been Mount Everest. I was totally spent. Bonnie wasn't looking too So the two of us good, either. plopped down on the edge of a cliff at the Brinton Meadows Overlook, staring down the abyss at a meandering brook in a lush, green meadow ringed with conifers. It was beautiful, but I was past caring and magic, mid-thirti- es lime-color- 5pm J uesday 5pm Wednesday Noon Send change of address to Davis County Clipper PO Box 267 BountlM Utah beyond B4Q1 pool our money and buy a coconut or banana cream pie from a man who conjured up at a moment's notice or visited the neighborhood twice each with careful planning. Then I week in a truck. I even had time for military recalled my childhood. I rose to the rank of service. I knew magic as a child. I was a lieutenant colonel in the 16th Army giant, taking giant steps to reach far and won every medal imaginable for horizons and gazing upon vistas and service above and beyond the call of scenes other children only saw in duty. Organized by our neighbors, movies or read about in books. As the Delaney boys, the 16th Army the son of an Air Force officer, I was dedicated to preserving our grew up wherever his duty called fiefdom from the pesky Green boys s, we moved and their motley crew of him. In the and 16th Army wannabes. to Spain a move that carried me We often raided their turf, full sway into my magic season. We lived in Royal Oaks, a whooping and hollering insults and housing area just north of Madrid pelting them with rubber bands. and some distance away from Then we holed up in our Torrejon Air Force Base. Magic impregnable plywood fort, safe from became my trusted ally and close range counterattack because we were surrounded by a moat filled imagination my shield. Sometimes learning the lore of with pungi sticks and voracious Moorish kings at the Alhambra; alligators. Only the pungi sticks aboard a ferry, crossing the were real. Mediterrcan on the way to Morocco and watching dolphins cavort and Life wasn't all fun and games. frolic off the starboard bow; There was also time for lessons shopping in Gibraltar, staring at like the time I got decked by Sam chess sets that had kings riding atop over an argument about dodgeball. chest-hig- h ivory elephants; or We squared off, face to face, when War II souvenirs Sam delivered a roundhouse right to World for looking in the Bavarian Alps above my left cheek that knocked me out Berchtesgaden, Hitler's summer cold. When I came to, I was laying was on the playground asphalt and retreat the magic overpowering. holding my cheek, which was Most times, magic was found bruised almost as badly as my ego. Sometimes you never see it closer to home at places like Devils Cliff or Gypsy Gully, coming, Sam said as he stepped evading imaginary gypsies or the away. The Boy Scouts had nothing Khan's Golden Horde. Weekdays on Sam when it came to lessons on were spent at Royal Oaks preparedness. And adults, I realized, Elementary, where my music have nothing on children when it teacher, Mr. Berg, made boys and comes to the power of imagination. girls hold hands while he sang I Becoming president, an astronaut or Wanna Hold Your Hand. Yccch! a Hollywood actor didn't seem too On weekends my friends and I would lofty a goal to an overimaginative ride our bikes to the school child. As an adult, struggling to get auditorium to watch Roy Rogers up every morning to face a new day, astride Trigger, taking on the bad it seemed patently ridiculous. I guys and living to sing about it later suddenly felt very silly on my with Dale Evans and the Sons of the cliffside perch. I was so tired, and I Pioneers. The movie ticket cost 15 was getting cold with the onset of cents. We'd pedal over to the storm clouds and the stiff breeze Fruitcria afterwards and spend our preceding a sudden squall line. Then the setting sun dipped pesetas on Spanish bubblegum and licorice swirls. Sometimes we'd below the squall line, illuminating a bygone era, I thought. Magic isn't something that can be scripted or ar seeing. Magic, like chivalry, is dead. It is the product of mid-sixtie- ed ne'er-do-wel- ls the easterly peaks in a golden iridescent glow. The land was alive. Thunder cracked to the south in an explosive cacophony of sound and fury; leaves rattled, escaped their earthly bonds and danced before the wind in ethereal beauty; and my imagination took flight. My gaze took in the kaleidoscope of color and motion and as lactic acid in my limbs gave way to the pure adrenaline of youth, I longed to join the dance. I leapt up, snatched the leash and began running with Bonnie, riding the currents of magic and whooping and hollering as I ascended the previously insurmountable slope. Faster and faster we ran, gathering speed like Secretariat rounding the home stretch at Belmont. The cratered ground beneath by feet seemed as soft as down and as smooth as polished glass as I ran faster still, Bonnie matching me stride for stride. We ran effortlessly, unconcious of time or distance. The sun seemed to climb higher on the western horizon as we raced toward it, leaving behind the demons of disappointment and disillusionment, the wind at our backs and all our paths pointing to the future. One final adrenaline surge carried us past Grandaddy Lake and almost to Heart Lake before my tired limbs reasserted themselves over the giddiness of a newfound but now spent youth. But that could not detract from the fact that for one brief, shining moment I had recaptured the magic and was swept away in celebration by the unexpected epiphany of the gods of childhood. I learned some important lessons that day. I learned that magic and youth are fleeting things that can be recaptured but never imprisoned. But I also learned that magic can be stored in the Mason jar of memory, to be brought out and savored by regaling my children with my experiences. And I learned that Sam was right where magic was concerned: You never, ever do see it coming. |