This week's stories:
New parking proposal needs more light In Our Opinion The Student Government Association blindly passed a parking proposal at the last meeting. The plan, slated to go into effect next year, will restrict freshmen to park in the lot next to the track, leaving the existing freshmen lot for commuters and upper classmen. Good thinking – poor planning. SGA passed the proposal, written by Molly Cavalier, SGA vice president, without addressing or solving obvious problems. As of now, SGA has no way to enforce who can and cannot park in the current freshmen lot next year. Ideas of punching holes in freshmen parking passes or making them a different color floated around the presentation of the new plan. SGA passed the plan without grabbing an idea. The track lot does not have enough lighting for a full-time lot. University officials have expressed concern in the past about students, especially girls, walking alone in the dark. Freshmen girls with cars will find themselves in the dark every time they need to get to their cars. This problem was brought up at the meeting. SGA officials expressed concern about the dangerous combination of young girls, cars and darkness with hopes to add more lights. No solid plan to install more lighting was made. SGA still passed the plan. The new lot will offer upperclassmen and commuters desperately needed spots. The plan is a necessary step in solving the parking problem on campus, but not at the expense of freshmen safety. With the freshman class growing every year, the track lot will provide 148 spots, which can accommodate 26 more cars than the current lot. The extra spots will come in handy for freshmen, but confuse parking enforcers. The idea behind the parking proposal has very helpful potential, but the plan itself remains as dark as the future sight of the freshmen lot.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus The following was published on the editorial page of The New York Sun in 1897. It is reprinted here courtesy of The Peopleıs Almanac.
We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:
Dear Editor — I am eight years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, "If you see it in The Sun, itıs so." Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?
Virginia OıHanlon
Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be menıs or childrenıs, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but thatıs no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world. You tear apart the babyıs rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding. No Santa Claus! Thank God he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.
Salamanca resident believes generation will not disappointı In Your Opinion To the Editor:
Your latest issue was great. Sometimes all we hear are the negatives and not the positives. The five opinion articles were all very readable and fall in that category gee that sounds like what I went through. The first, "Doing laundry is loads of stress," I could relate to that since when in college I had to go to a Laundromat. Once some jerk ahead of me used a red dye in the washer. My whites turned the most shocking pink anyone has ever seen. Yuck! Being a typical broke college student I had to live with that underwear for some time before it could be replaced. The next opinion was "Revolution starts with vegetables." Yep, I can relate to that. These hamburger joints have to put those pickles on every burger and I hate them. Gross! "Colds put a freeze on busy student life" is again a story that all college students most likely share. After a while you say shall I share a space with this drippy-nosed dude who is coughing and wants to shake your hand? Your inner self screams, "No way!" The next in the paper, "College makes up the best years of life," is so true. I did not know how good I had it until I was in my senior year wondering "What the hell will happen to me? What the hell will I do?" For me I copped out and went to graduate school, as I could not release that comfy feeling of those university walls. Yeah, like the writer, I relate, as it was home. The last finally was "Family time is the best holiday gift." This last opinion article was the lynchpin to other truly memorable pieces by obviously talented writers. After all, what are any of us without family or for that matter our friends who stick by us in fair weather or foul weather? As Thanksgiving season rolls around for all of us as it must we must remember who put us upon this Earth: who nurtured us in our formative years whether it be parents, family or friends; and who were there standing by for those good as well as bad times. This issue was certainly a high point of your paper and one to which this old college student from many years ago will remember. Something tells me that this generation will not disappoint us. Nope, not at all.
Sincerely,
George Wilberg,
Journalists face a tough
jury Itıs 4 a.m. on Thursday and Iım alone in The Bona Venture offices writing my final column — the column which should have been written, copyedited and laid on the page two days ago. Whoops. Oh, itıs good to be the king. Unfortunately, this is my last opportunity to exercise my "royal privileges." The end of this semester not only brings us seniors 15 weeks closer to graduation but it means my retirement from The Bona Venture editorial board. I learned many valuable things in my time in the newsroom, but the most valuable didnıt come from print. It came from television. As Homer Simpson said to his daughter, Lisa, "Stupid risks are what make life worth living. Now your mother, sheıs the steady type and thatıs fine in small doses, but me, Iım a risk-taker. Thatıs why I have so many adventures." These wise words offer a way of thinking. Take risks. Get the story. Granted, rarely do major stories happen on this campus. If they did, I doubt anyone would comment. We havenıt exposed another Watergate or been involved in any precedent-setting media law cases lately. However, we, along with all student media, take risks every day. All members of campus media, be they BV writers, editors and photographers; WSBUıs Bona News Now reporters; or anchors, producers or camerapeople for SBU-TV, risk putting themselves out in the public eye. And for what? One-hundred internship hours? Three or four elective credits? Hardly. Itıs the thrill of the hunt that keeps us coming back. Itıs the real-world experience we get that writing news stories based on fictional press conferences in class does not offer. Itıs the chance to show the world (or at least the university and surrounding communities) what we can do that makes spending long hours in the offices after a full day of classes bearable. Doing any type of campus media takes a certain amount of balls. It is not a job for anyone. Long, sleepless hours; a waning social life; and a not-so-nice reputation around campus: those are some of the things the student journalists must overcome in order to belong to the elite club of campus media participants. Student journalists have opportunities other students do not get. Meeting members of the universityıs administration and board of trustees is a common occasion for members of campus media. With each meeting comes the responsibility to represent your medium and all student journalists. Then thereıs the notorious popular opinion. Typically the media, especially campus media, is not looked upon favorably and this campus provides no exception. However, despite harsh and sometimes unfounded criticism, members of the campus media push on. People who create a news product on a regular basis will always be the target of criticism. They stand on the chopping block, putting their heads in the guillotine. It is up to the quality of their journalism to make sure the schoolıs executioners donıt pull the lever and chop off our heads. Since they havent done that this semester, we must have succeeded. Creating a news product on a regular basis is no small task. It takes a group of responsible, hard working, dedicated newshounds to put themselves at risk in the public eye for 15 weeks each semester. I canıt think of a better way to spend my college career.
Required meal plans tough to swallow
By:Jess Galasso St. Bonaventure should make it optional for undergraduate students living in Francis Hall to purchase a meal plan. Francis residents are the only East side residents required to purchase a meal plan. ³A student living in the residence hall system is obligated to participate in a university meal plan. The only exceptions are the following: Townhouses, new apartments, Garden (Apartments) and graduate students,² according to the universityıs Web site. Francis Hall should be included on the exception list. Meal options cost up to $1465. The exempt students can take advantage of optional meal plans, which include either a declining balance on their Bona Bucks account or a Commuter plan, which offers 50 lunch meals and 50 Bona Bucks. The universityıs administration has an ambiguous classification for undergraduate Francis residents depending on whether the student is driving or eating. Residents of Townhouses, new apartments, Garden Apartments and Francis Hall, all on the east side of campus, are considered commuter students when it comes to parking a car. If residents are considered commuters when they bring cars to campus they should be able to take advantage of being a commuter student when they dine. Obviously, the proximity to dining facilities is not an obstacle. It is a farther walk to main campus from Francis Hall than from Garden Apartments and the apartment residents have the option of a commuter plan or a declining balance. There are two kitchens on each floor in Francis, giving access to facilities for students to prepare their own meals. Additionally, the Francis Cafe could be open more often and offer more menu choices if the plans were changed. Students would be encouraged to use their Bona Bucks for the cafe instead of using a meal that is otherwise only valid at the Hickey Dining Hall. An optional meal plan allows students the versatility to use their money at any dining facility on campus, including Hickey Dining Hall. This alternative offers greater convenience to students in that they are able to mold their dining habits to their individual tastes. Students living in a more independent atmosphere, single Francis rooms, should be able to take advantage of the independence of an optional meal plan. Francis Hall is the only housing option on the East side of campus that is not considered a commuting residence for their meal plan. St. Bonaventure needs to update its policy toward student meal plans in order to maintain consistent student classification instead of picking and choosing conveniences from particular standings.
The holidays tend to lose their
meaning Bah Humbug. Itıs 19 days before the big day and I canıt feel the Christmas spirit. Come to think of it, Christmas hasnıt felt good in a long time. Donıt look at me like Iım Ebeneezer Scrooge. Heıs a stingy, moneymaking, money-saving old man. Iım a confused, job-seeking college student who has little money. Wow, I wrote 57 words and mentioned money three times without saying anything about Christ. Isnıt that what Christmas is supposed to be all about? Linus Van Pelt, from the comic strip ³Peanuts,² would say so. In ³A Charlie Brown Christmas,² he explains to Charlie Brown how the angel Gabriel terrified the shepherds who the Bible says would meet baby Jesus. He quoted the Gospel of Luke to enlighten that confused Christmas-goer. ³Fear not! For, behold, I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all my people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ, the Lord,² Linus reminds us from the neighborhood community center theater. Itıs possible to spend a lot of money on presents and still remember Jesus at Christmas. But when the lights, Santas and evergreens get mixed in, sometimes people forget why Christians celebrate. If Charlie Brown wants to know what Christmas is all about, he needs to listen to more than just his best friend. But it bothers me when the original reason for celebrating gets bumped to the end of the list. It snatches the Christmas spirit from me quicker than the lake-effect snow shifts its wind. Kaufmannıs had a sale on Tuesday and Wednesday. I didnıt buy anything yet and hope I didnıt miss the last sale. Studying for finals takes priority over shopping. Wal-Mart improved on sales by 16 percent from last yearıs weekend after Thanksgiving, according to a USA Today article. I hope all the cashiers and marketing directors have a Merry Christmas with their bonuses. Maybe Christmas is about hope. Some believe God sent his only son to Earth as a sign of hope. Dec. 25 falls right after the first day of winter, the shortest day of the year. The long, dark days are ending. Hope may have arrived. Families give hope too. Most people gather with their families on Christmas morning or during Christmas dinner. What better way to wrap up the year than passing some honey-glazed ham and mashed potatoes to a sister or niece? Christmas can mean different thinks to a lot of different people. Before dinner in December at my familyıs house, we light candles on an Advent wreath and say a special prayer each week. So the Christmas spirit must be floating around somewhere. But I canıt find it. Maybe pollution has been hiding the Christmas in the air for the past few years. Christmas truly brings out complications. Maybe weıre not supposed to know what Christmas is all about. After the December snowflakes melt, Charlie Brown still wonıt get to kick the football from his lovable nemesis Lucy. And I still wonıt understand Christmas. Maybe thereıs hope. Maybe thatıs part of it.
Christmas: The gift to
corporations Turkey day has passed gracefully and that means one thing: Iıll soon stare down the barrel of Christmas like John Wayne walking up to a gunfight. But, John Wayne died of cancer in 1979 and Christmas ceased to be about Jesus or Santa Claus long ago. These days it's about the almighty greenback. Black Friday, the shopping holiday the day after Thanksgiving, came and went. I stayed hidden behind the pages of books with hopes of transporting myself to another dimension, where people still go to church and the thought still counts. Thankfully Steve Martin writes well and Billy Collins is a real poet who showed me true beauty, if only for moments. The rabid wolves tore at remote control cars and Barbie Dolls. Many were bloodied in their own vision quest of trees, carols and, most importantly, presents. Benjamin Franklin, Ulysses Grant and Andrew Jackson feared for their safety. They moved too fast. Visa smiled. Teenagers working for minimum wage braved the onslaught of customers. Parents panicked at the thought of their children not getting exactly what they wished for. Children cried because of the mayhem surrounding them. Although everyone had prepared, no one avoided the stress, the hassle or the shakedown. Perhaps it was the after effects of big dinners and wine. Perhaps inexperience played a factor. But, many men swore when they realized they had been taken by the price wars again. Nickels became dollars and dollars become fortunes. I sat in dim light praying to the gods of Mattel and Fisher Price that few would be maimed in the mad terrifying rush to make checkmarks on lists. Snow fell and plows took it away, like freedom being shoved down the road. The man driving the monster salt truck had a wife in the middle of a chaotic run through Wal-Mart, searching desperately for consumer happiness. It was a bargain shopperıs paradise in toy stores and strip malls from California to North Carolina. Small towns and smaller children were crushed along the way. Pandemonium rained down from the North Poll. Mall Santas acted like early 1900s immigrations inspectors, quickly ushering the strong and weak through the turnstiles of happiness. The Chinese and Japanese got rich, but I don't know if they have Christmas in Asia. If they do a billion Chinese rushed to the store, despite the communist rule to fetch the newest piece of plastic at a reasonable price. I'm still hiding. I will be for 18 more long days until Christmas. Iıll be sweating out the days in my own mind until the madness ends. I will try to breathe. But, they will catch me and drag me to shopping malls and I will fight mini-vans to find the prefect gift. There is no other way to show love and faith than with a gift. Buy it and wrap it and hope all goes well. Such is life in the America I know.
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