The North Texas Daily (Denton, Tex.), Vol. 64, No. 52, Ed. 1 Wednesday, December 3, 1980 Page: 2 of 8
eight pages : ill. ; page 22 x 18 in. Digitized from 35 mm. microfilm.View a full description of this newspaper.
Extracted Text
The following text was automatically extracted from the image on this page using optical character recognition software:
Commentary
The North Texas Daily
Page 2
Wednesday, December 3, 1980
Editorial
Unacceptable
school prayer
A proposal by state Sen. Walter Mengden, R-Houston, to permit silent
prayer in public schools is unacceptable for several reasons, including a
Supreme Court prohibition, and should not be considered by the
Legislature when it meets next year.
The bill, which would allow public school teachers to set aside a brief
period of silent prayer or meditation for all consenting students, specifies
that the meditation period may not be conducted as a religious service and
that no disciplinary action can be taken against any student
Mengden said his bill does notiiing more than provide an opportunity
for a moment of "silent reflection on the anticipated activities of the day
or, for those so disposed, on a religious theme." He insists the bill is com-
pletely constitutional and would not trespass on individual rights.
But Mengden has not considered several points in assessing his
proposal. One possible problem is that not all religions worship in the
same manner. Some religions do not allow silent prayer, and such depar-
tures from Judeo-Christian worship would not be accommodated.
A second possible problem the bill overlooks is peer pressure. It says no
child would be punished for failing to participate, but it is doubtful many
third-grade children know their constitutional rights. If an authority figure
such as a teacher sets aside a brief period for silent prayer, then it is likely a
child would feel obligated to participate.
These arguments are beside the point when one considers that the
Supreme Court banned prayer in public schools almost two decades ago
and that prayer is prayer whether it is spoken or silent. Mengden's bill is a
blatant violation of the court's doctrine of separation of church and state
and should not be tolerated.
In the final analysis, it seems that Mengden's proposal not only is un-
necessary and unconstitutional, but also any time spent debating the bill
would be time wasted in the Legislature, time that could be spent more
beneficially.
Letters
Researcher lauds librarian
v
U NOfflH
I am not an NT student, but on Nov.
9 1 had occasion to do research at the
Willis Library. Not knowing the
whereabouts of the library, I asked the
first student-looking person I drove past
where it was. She didn't know.
Five students later 1 still didn't know.
If I hadn't happened by the information
booth, I might never have found the
place.
Upon arrival at the library, I found
out why I had trouble getting directions:
the place was virtually empty. This
turned out to be a good thing for me.
The materials I needed were not on the
shelf, so I went to the social sciences
desk to find out why.
The student assistant told me the
materials I needed were at the bindery
and there was nothing she could do. But
a man next to her behind the desk told
me to wait while he finished helping
another person.
When he finished, he asked me what
exactly was my problem and then
rechecked to see if my materials were at
the bindery. Sure enough, they definitely
were. I was about to consign myself to
the fact that my 200-mile trip had been a
failure when this gentleman said, "Why
don't we go down to that ol' bindery and
see if we can't get the stuff you need."
We did just that, not once, but twice
during the day and succeeded in finding
everything I needed.
The man who helped me is William
Floyd, a social sciences librarian. I
would very much like to thank him for
the time he spent and the help he gave
me. There are very few people who
would go out of their way to help
someone as Floyd helped me, and the
library system and university as a whole
should be proud of such a dedicated
person.
Oh yes, don't let me forget to thank
the student body for not using the
library that day so Floyd would have the
time to help me. Thank you.
Joel Kubenstein
1108 W. 22nd St., Apt. 2
Austin
Reagan support
I have just read Rick Marshall's
response to the letter that Judy Roper
and 1 wrote that appeared in the Nov. 19
issue of The North Texas Daily. I must
say that 1 am rather disappointed by his
comments.
In 1976 I supported Gerald Ford's re-
election, but when he lost, I supported
Jimmy Carter. I did this because the
election was over, and I believed our
president needed the support of all the
people for him to do his best. It was only
after all his blunders that I switched my
support.
I don't think it is fair that some people
aren't even giving Ronald Reagan a
chance to prove himself. He hasn't taken
office and already some people are say-
ing he's going to destroy the world.
President-elect Reagan has been
vested with the fate of our nation for the
next four years. He needs and deserves
the support of the people he is serving. I
think that whomever the president is he
should receive our support.
In closing, I am ashamed that you
could even think of accusing Reagan of
being like the Ayatollah Ruhollah
Khomeini. Aren't you lucky you live in a
country where you can say things like
that because, Mr. Marshall, if you lived
in Iran you wouldn't have that freedom.
Ste>e Vaught
NT Box 5583
64th Year
The North Texas Daily
North Texas State University
Printed by the North Texas State University Printing Office
Denton. Texas
PACEMAKER 6 TIMES
ALL-AMERICAN 72 TIMES
FREDERICK WELK, editor
BECKI JAMESON, advertising manager
Terri Banning, news editor
Karen Clark, news editor
Bill Brauckmuller, editorials
Sharon Ware, editorials
Karen Ball, staff reporter
Carol Rust, staff reporter
Laura Haynes. entertainments
James Kaufmann. entertainments
Denise Garner, sports
Jerry Prickett. sports
Bill Christensen, news assistant
Marilyn Covey, news assistant
Kevin Shay, news assistant
Barbara Barkley, photographer
Terry Hasker, photographer
Max Stacy, photographer
Mark Williams, photographer
Mark Aritonuccio. cartoonist
Buddy Hickerson, cartoonist
Jeff Hill, cartoonist
Ed McVey, cartoonist
Patricia Giles, ad representative
Jay Hoger, ad representative
John Tharnstrom, ad representative
The North Texas Daily, student newspaper of North Texas State
University, is published daily, Tuesday through Friday, during the
long terms and weekly during the summer sessions, except during
review and examination periods and school vacations
SUBSCRIPTION RATE—$12 annually or $6 per long semester and $2
per summer.
Represented by Communications & Advertising Services to Students
Box 5297, NT Station, Denton, Texas 76203
Editorial offices 788-2353 or 788-2209
Reporters 788-2396 or 788-2406
Advertising office 788-2240 or 788-2545
Southwestern Journalism Congress
Letter Policy
The North Texas Daily welcomes letters from readers. Letters must be
signed and include the writer's address and telephone number. Let-
ters should be concise and are subject to editing for space and libel
Mail letters to Box 5297 NT Station. Denton, Texas 76203
Signed commentaries, cartoons and readers' letters reflect the opi-
nions of the authors and should not be confused with editorial state-
ments of The North Texas Daily Opinions appearing on this page do
not necessarily reflect those of the North Texas State University ad-
ministration.
San Francisco artist interrupts mundane world
Trash can philosopher advises visitor to beware life's anthills
The first time I saw the old man he was on
21st Street in San Francisco, on his knees by the
curb picking up rocks.
Some of them no larger than pebbles, he
would examine them closely, sometimes ex-
claiming with satisfaction before stuffing one in
the right pocket of his grease-stained brown-
and gold-striped wool coat, but more often toss-
ing it back onto the street.
1 was visiting my sister and had intended to
take a walk down to Golden Gate Park, but
when I saw the old guy I felt much like one who
has stumbled upon some rare bird in its natural
habitat and had to stop. I leaned against the
fender of a parked car and watched him, but he
went about his business as though I were not
there. When I couldn't restrain myself any
longer I interrupted him.
"WHAT ARE you doing," I asked.
"Collecting."
"What for?"
"The future," he said, still not looking up
from his work
"Oh come on, you must be doing this for
some reason, Otherwise you'd just be a silly old
man out in the street picking up rocks."
FINALLY HE looked up at me and answered.
"I'm an artist, OK."
"An artist," I repeated. "Fancy that."
"Nothin' fancy about it, kid. Nothin' new
either."
"What kind of art do you do?" This seemed
to be the right question. It was as though I'd
popped the top off a soda bottle that had been
jostled about.
"All kinds. Drawing, painting, collage, func-
tional art. kinetic art and performance art, you
name it."
"So this is how you get your ideas, crawling
around on your knees in the street?"
"It's one way; but only one. These pebbles,"
he said, patting his pocket, "are going into a
mosaic piece I'm working on. But there's pos-
sibilities everywhere. That's part of my business,
to show things people take for granted in a way
they'd never thought or cared to think of before.
To make the obvious brilliant.
"WHY KID, I bet if you and I walked down
the street looking in trash cans we could find
enough materials for a work of art that'd beat
most of the $10,000 junk they sell in most of the
galleries in this town."
This sounded like quite a claim so I took him
up on his bet.
We walked down a block or so past a bakery
shop and a barber shop, crossed the trolley
tracks and cut over one block to 20th Street
where there were houses along the street instead
of businesses.
The first trash can we stopped at turned out
not to be quite what he had hoped for, at least
that's how it appeared, the way he was grum-
bling to himself. He finally pulled out two pieces
of burlap and stuffed them in his right coat
pocket along with the rocks.
AS WE WKNT from can to can, amazingly
unmolested by residents and the police, at least
as entertaining as this remarkable old man were
the reactions of passersby.
Two short, chubby, white-haired women pull-
ing up the hill their handcarts filled with
groceries were noticeably disturbed by the old
man they no doubt thought was a vagrant dig-
ging in trash cans. I don't know what they
thought of me.
When we were almost to Lincoln Way we, or
rather he, I should say, still hadn't found
anything pleasing enough for his artwork. At the
next to the last trash can on the street, a man in a
gray suit carrying a briefcase passed mumbling
something about "goddam degenerate
drunkard." He probably said something about
the necessity of being employed; however, it was
barely audible so I can't really say for sure But
his strictures somehow pleased me, I imagined
the old man and myself as partners in persecu-
tion.
Finally, at the last trash can on the block, he
had a flash of intuition. With his head stuck in
the trash can, he let go a muffled, exultant cry.
Bill
Christensen
"Gold. This is like finding gold," he cried, re-
emerging from the can holding two pieces of
what looked to be stainless steel, each triangular
except for a concave hypotenuse. He laid them
gentiy on the sidewalk, then stuck his hands
back in the can and pulled out a bundle of about
10 thin, rusty iron rods that he laid beside the
two other pieces.
He got down on his knees and began to ar-
range his materials. Two more scornful
pedestrians passed, to whom he paid no atten-
tion. He took the two stainless steel pieces, made
them the upper right and lower left corners of
his composition and began weaving the iron
rods into a grid between the two corners. When
he had finished, I must admit it didn't look half
bad.
HE WAS ECSTATIC. "Would you look at
that. I didn't really count on creating anything
today, and here I've created something just on
the spur of the moment."
Apparently the woman whose trash can the
old man had rummaged through heard him and,
being more annoyed than disturbed, yelled out
her window at him; "I'll tell you what you
created You've created a mess. Now would you
mind cleaning it up."
The old man stared fondly at his creation for a
moment, looked up and cheerfully answered the
woman. "Not at all madam. Not at all." He
looked over at me. "Don't worry kid. She
wouldn't know art if it had fangs and a rattler."
HE GATHERED up the pieces of metal and
held them ceremoniously over the trash can, as-
suming an attitude of mock profundity.
"Render unto Caesar, his whole bleedin' pile,"
he said as he let them fall into the can.
After that we crossed Lincoln Way into
Golden Gate Park, sat on a bench and talked —
he talked, I should say — for hours. He
rambled on and on about all the places he'd
visited in his life: Paris, Berlin, Rome and Hong
Kong to name a few. If he wasn't telling the
truth, he was a good enough liar that it didn't
matter.
But the story that has stuck in my mind above
all the others was one he told about a trip he
took to Yosemite National Park "before the
people took over."
lie said he was hiking up a mountain trail at
sunset and stopped to take in a spectacular view
of one peak with a watercolor sky behind it,
beauty so enthralling he nearly lost track of
time. Lost track of time, that is, until he realized
he had been standing on an anthill and had ants
crawling up and down his legs.
"Kid you just can't possibly know the mean-
ing of'ants in his pants' until you've had it hap-
pen to you," he said. "Realized it just in time."
I chuckled apprehensively.
HE BEGAN to get philosophical. "You know
kid, a lot of times it's the little stuff that gets
you. You'll be goin' along fine and all of a sud-
den some unexpected annoyance is up an' yap-
pin' at you, bitin' at your ankles like a damn lit-
tle poodle tryin' to pull you down to its level.
My advice to you is to watch out for anthills."
I would have stayed with the old man longer,
but it was getting dark and my sister soon would
begin to wonder where I was. So I bid the old
man adieu and walked down 21st Street to the
house.
The last time I saw him was two days later on
my way to the bakery for some French bread.
"Whatcha been up to the last two days?" I
asked.
"Creating," he answered curtly.
AFTER A FEW moments of trying to strike
up a conversation, I decided his reticence was an
indication he didn't wish to be bothered, so I
started off toward the bakery. But as I turned to
leave, he spoke. "Hey kid," he said.
"What?"
"About those anthills."
"Yeah."
"Don't spend all your time lookin' out for
'em. It'll spoil the view."
That was the last 1 saw of the old man. When 1
came back from the bakery he was gone.
I can't say whether he's still out on 20th Street
digging in trash cans for artistic inspiration,
drawing suspicious glances from chubby little
women pulling home their groceries or muffled
invectives from men in gray suits carrying brief-
cases.
But I certainly hope so. Sometimes people like
him make a too often mundane and tedious
world just a little more bearable.
i i
Upcoming Pages
Here’s what’s next.
Search Inside
This issue can be searched. Note: Results may vary based on the legibility of text within the document.
Tools / Downloads
Get a copy of this page or view the extracted text.
Citing and Sharing
Basic information for referencing this web page. We also provide extended guidance on usage rights, references, copying or embedding.
Reference the current page of this Newspaper.
Whitehead, Mike. The North Texas Daily (Denton, Tex.), Vol. 64, No. 52, Ed. 1 Wednesday, December 3, 1980, newspaper, December 3, 1980; Denton, TX. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth332546/m1/2/: accessed June 20, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting UNT Libraries Special Collections.