opinion
FRANKLY SPEAKING
.... by phil frank
Guide helps
With the initiation of a nursing home
guide, the fears and anxieties of facing the
fact that loved ones grow old and are in
capable of caring for themselves is easier to
face, thanks to the Senior Citizen Council.
Bill Anton and his crew should pat them
selves on the back for a job well done. Their
thinking and production is sure to be ad
mired and envied by other organizations.
The senior citizens of the Tri-County area
will more than likely be pleased that, at
last, they have the fact out in front of them
about nursing homes. Their fears of the so-
called “filthy prisons” that we have heard so
much about is over. They now do not have
to worry about going to a nursing home
where they will be mistreated or neglected,
or where their particular needs will not be
able to be met.
As Anton said in a recent interview, we all
grow old. Isn’t it nice to know that growing
old doesn’t have to be a tough job?
guest shot
Editors
note:
This
humorous article was
taken from an issue of the
Daily Emerald from the
University of Oregon.
By John Crowley
Attention, campus security
meter persons: you can stop
looking for my car now. I will
not be driving it onto campus
anymore, so you can take your
parking tickets and stick them
in your tailpipes.
No, don’t congratulate your
selves. This is not your doing. I
can handle a ticket a day with
my eyes closed (just like I
drive). Hell, I paper my walls
with the little white slips. After a
tough day of skipping classes
and eating bagels, it makes me
feel like a big deal to return to
my cat, rip the parking ticket
from beneath the windshield
wiper and fling it into my glove
box with a devil-may-care
snort.
19600 S. Molalla A vmmm , Otago* City, Oragoa 97065
Office: TrailarB; talapbow 656:3631, a*t. 309
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Lae Jaffrtaa, CMa Manttt, Jaaaee Rhoadaa, TeceRhodea
Dea Sheperd-Kent, Ruby Smith staff photographers: Cathy
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baataaaa maasper: Roa AHea; proCeeetoaal adviser Seale Booe
The Priât, a member of the Orogoa Newepeper PabUalMn
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coveriag* the campus comm salty ae thoroughly as poooible.
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Govemmeat.
Page 2
So don’t think it was yoUr lit
tle white tickets that finally
eradicated THIS parking
problem.
It was some goddamned
woman in a yellow Pinto.
At 8:25 a.m. I am not in
sharpest form, as other drivers
can tell you. So when I saw the
open space in front of the EMU
yesterday
morning,
I
congratulated myself for such
luck and started to pull in.
Well, at that moment this dame
in the Pinto was backing into
the same space, 1 aiscovered.
We met about half-way, my tail
end sticking out into the street,
her front end prominently un
parked.
She gave her horn a little
toot and smiled patiently at me,
as if to say, “Okay, you ass,
I’ve got a class at 8:30.”
I, however, remained .un
moved.
Perhaps it was just my intrin
sic stubbornness, or the
earliness of the hour, or
maybe I just don’t like yellow
Pintos, but I refused to budge. I
gave my own horn a toot.
Being a Volkswagen horn, it
did little to intimidate her, but it
did squirt out my defiance.
She rolled her window down
and stuck her head out. She
was blond and very pretty.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I was
here first.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
“I’m 22,” she replied.
“I’ve got you beat by a few
years,” I said. “Now get lost.”
I thought this intellectual
tour-de-force would convince
her (in retrospect, it does seem
rather lame;, out it had no such
effect.
Now, my father told me
never to fight with girls. But he
also told me never to smoke
pot because it would lead to
heroin. But he was wrong; it
only led to self-abuse and
general squalor, so I decided
that fighting with girls shouldn’t
be much riskier.
for—a svelte blond with a sleek
yellow Pinto or a cranky]
kinky-haired wiseguy with] a
banged-up VW? You see what
I was up against.
We argued for a feul
minutes, but it became clear
that this was a matter which]
would be decided by the
public.
The lookers-on, mostly ‘
male, listened carefully to the]
arguments and debated among
themselves. They decided that ]
the lady was entitled to the
space and told me so. One of
them helpfully informed me.
that he’d spotted a “real nice
space” over near Springfield!
about half an hour earlier. I
By now I was waking up,
I took the Volks out of gear
and got out, but because the and the combination of aler
parking brake is broken, the car' tness, peer pressure and the]
Blond Factor was beginning to I
started to roll, and it bumped
into the Pinto. The woman got overcome my outrage and
out of her car. We squared off general contrariness. In a final,
gentlemanly concession 1 told
there in the street.
the woman I hoped she and
By now, a crowd had her car were very happy]
gathered, and although no together.
polls were taken at the scene, it
Then I got into my car. scat-,
seemed that the crowd’s sym
tered some pedestrians at
pathy was not with me.
University and 13th, and drove ]
And I think I understand that on to Springfield. The guy: was J
I mean', whom would you root right. It’s a real nice space. I
Clackamas Community College