| Easy travel
The TCU Frog Shuttle has been driving students from Worth Hills to Main and East Campus for almost a year. In its first semester, the shuttle carried more than 18,000 passengers, according to TCU police records. Less than halfway through this semester, the shuttle has already carried more than 15,000 passengers. When the shuttle began running, Worth Hills residents were no longer allowed to drive to day classs. Though this raised several complaints from students, the shuttle immediately alleviated some of the parking problems on the east side of campus, said TCU Police Sgt. JC Drake. He said Campus Police examined student complaints and suggestions to develop a more efficient Frog Shuttle system. "It was because of student input that the situation changed, and changed for the better," said Drake, the officer who oversees the shuttle system. It seems like all those surveys we answer are finally starting to influence changes in and around the university, and we appreciate that. The shuttle benefits us all. Commuter students are more likely - though it's certainly not a sure thing - to get a parking place within six miles of their classes. Worth Hills students get to avoid the parking nightmare without having to hike across campus. And main campus residents, well, they get to enjoy living so close to their classes. Students have responded positively to the need for the Frog Shuttle, and they seem to be using it as well. Besides, it helps to keeps certain students from parking in the wrong spaces, and who can complain about that? The numbers seem to make the shuttle a necessary, worthwhile service. We think so, too.
Ads here, there, everywhere From the beginning of time, advertising has been a key element of life. Satan started by word of mouth, saying "Eat at Tree," and it's all been downhill from there. Even more perplexing than some of the advertisements themselves are the thoughts that intelligent, decent people like us are actually affected by these things. Let's start with the greatest advertising medium of all time: television. A lot has to be said for advertising in this respect, because without the 30-second spots television probably wouldn't exist today and we would probably not know those wonderful people who are our vicarious friends, lovers and soul mates. I praise television advertisements to no end. So often, my biggest laughs come from television ads, sometimes my only laugh of the evening. They break a heavy drama and give you a rest from killer comedies, plus they give us a chance to go check on the pot roast or up refill soda while we're in the middle of watching a show. Call me crazy, but I watch television for the commercials, too. No, I'm not talking about Jim Adler or K-Clinic ads that come on in the middle of a "Golden Girls" rerun in the middle of the day, but the new, fresh prime-time commercials that tap advertising agencies' talent and skill to the max. Every time a new Gap commercial comes on lately, I've demanded silence. Not that I have ever bought a piece of Gap clothing in my life, but I LOVE these ads. Television is a great medium for advertising, and it allows sight, sound and movement that can give the most input about a product in the smallest amount of time. It spawns mini-stories that make us laugh, help us sympathize, remind us that we're hungry or even sometimes make us cry. The line is drawn, though, now that our society has been infiltrated. With the advent of the Internet, advertising is suddenly bigger business than it has ever been. Some Web sites like Yahoo! make most of their money off advertising for the millions of people that come to their site. AltaVista provides free Internet access if only you're willing to have an ad banner across the bottom of your computer screen whenever you're connected. Not that the Internet is the end-all, be-all of advertising evil - though certainly I don't appreciate typing innocent URLs like www.gamingzone.com and being redirected to porn sites. The Internet's focus on advertising, however, has created a frenzied trend in thought in the advertising community, mainly consisting of one question: What else can we advertise on? When I went to London this summer, I was amazed the English had rotating billboards. Apparently, people in London are stuck in traffic so much that one billboard ad will not suffice - they have to put three on a rotating triangle device so that you see a new ad every five seconds. Back home, it's becoming just as bad in some places. We are all used to bus stops, street posts and the backs of buses containing ads, but lately we've been undermining aesthetics for this stuff! Perfectly named ballparks and stadiums are having their traditional names taken away from them. Schools are signing contracts with soda companies to carry and distribute only their line of cola. Microsoft is sticking its advertising hand into every medium there is, with MSNBC, MSN, MS Web TV and, of course, Windows. Where are we going to see them next? "This stop sign brought to you by Marlboro." "This tree courtesy of Macintosh." The day of reckoning will be the day that a plane flies across the sky with a trailer that says, "This sky courtesy of American Airlines." If we're not careful, advertising will ruin the quality of life, if not ruin the world. As a person who sees more advertisements than I need to, I also insist that I am not influenced by advertising. I do not buy just because I hear or see what the advertisers want. I buy because I make an intelligent choice - whether or not the advertisers helped inform me of their product is for them to figure out.
Jeremy Hoekstra is a junior computer science and math major from Burleson, Texas. He can be reached at (jghoekstra@delta.is.tcu.edu). Sorority sisters still rule A gaggle of young women walked down the sidewalk on the edge of the university. They wore dresses and heels and their hair was perfectly coiffeured. None wore casual attire because this was a very important event; these next two days would change their lives. The ladies chatted nervously as the came upon the porch of the student center about "the choice." "Why is everyone dressed up so nicely?" "Rush," said a young woman from La Junta, Colo., named Marjorie. Her name was neatly printed on a name tag. "This is rush week, and it's probably the most important days of our lives." "Everyone seems so nervous, like you ladies are choosing your best friends for the rest of your lives." Marjorie said it was not a matter of choosing friends for life but still it was an important decision. She had grown up with a very transient life, never living in one place too long. Her dad was always being transferred in his job so Marjorie grew up in rented houses. Her folks never stayed in one place long enough to buy a permanent home and put down roots. Marjorie has gone to elementary school in Dodge City, Kan.; junior high school was in Las Vegas, N.M.; high school in southern Colorado. She was looking for some stability in her life. Marjorie started college in an all-girls school in the South. College in a girls school in Tennessee was an unfamiliar lifestyle to her. Marjorie reminded me that one of her suite mates was becoming popular in country music. "Someday," she said, "she is going to be a star. I knew her in college and have a friend for life." Nobody respectable listened to that hick country music. Marjorie turned 20 last June, so it was questionable that she would be asked to join any sorority. The Greeks were more interested in pledging female freshmen. Marjorie was off to another event, so she left with her friend Elaine to comb their hair and check the quality of their war paint. They really were lovely girls with a mixture of fear, nervousness and excitement that was contagious. I am telling this tale because Marjorie is my mother and the year of this sorority rush was 1942. It was in the middle of World War II at the University of Colorado and most of the young men of the generation were fighting overseas. Because the enemy was so far away, young people in the States felt very safe. The Chi Omega girls had sleeping porches outside at the sorority house in Boulder. Perhaps it would not be safe to do that in Texas; if the heat didn't kill you, someone else might. There are too many evil things happening in the world. There is a rapist loose in the area, and it is prudent to use care which jogging path is chosen. There are drugs, alcohol and the stresses of keeping up grades. And crazy guys with guns come into churches. I was reminded of this story as I saw an assembly of young sorority women walking from Worth Hills to the main campus several weeks ago. Times have changed, dress has made a full circle in style but it is still a nervous time as young ladies wait for bids. One thing remains the same: "Girls rule!" That beautiful young pledge photo of my mother at 20 hangs on my wall. Mom, in her silk blouse and cultured pearls, is now in her late 70s. Her life has been a blessing as have her Chi Omega sisters. Mom made friends who stuck by her for life. Oh ... about that sister from the girls school in Tennessee who went into country music. Come to find out she could not sing a note. She married a doctor, Henry Cannon. But the world came to know her as a very funny old maid known as Minnie Pearl.
David Becker is a graduate student at Brite Divinity School. He can be reached at (evadgorf@aol.com). Quote unquote
Letter to the editor Professor remembers Kim Jones' pursuit of faith Kim Jones audited my Fall 1998 "Christianity and Literature," the first class I taught at TCU. She made a remarkable contribution to our small but determined group. Present for every Tuesday/Thursday session, she labored long and hard to weld her faith and scholarship. Our class discussions often spilled over into informal office chats, especially about our shared Baptist heritage. In time, I came to understand that Kim's pursuit of a credible and livable faith was as impressive as it was relentless. The end result of her labors was just shy of mesmeric, and as I watched her leave my class for the last time in December 1998, I remember admiring the way she had trained her mind and heart to consider the important questions about life, meaning and God. Today, as I ponder the tragic loss of Kim's young and tender life, I find myself celebrating her transparently honest Christianity. I don't mind admitting that I am a better theologian for having met Kim Jones; in her own extravagantly gracious way, she taught me more than I could say here or anywhere. Darren J. N. Middleton, assistant professor of religion |
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