The daily Tar Heel. (Chapel Hill, N.C.) 1946-current, September 02, 1981, Page 6, Image 6
6The Dally Tar HeelWednesday, September 2, J98j Jim Hummel, Editor SUSAN MAUNEY. Managing Editor MARK MURRELL, Associate Editor JONATHAN RICH, Associate Editor EDWINA RALSTON, University Editor . JOHN ROYSTER, Gty Editor CHARLES HERNDON, State and National Editor BETH BURRELL,- Nfu Editor Clifton Barnes, Spom Editor Tom Moore, Arts Editor KEITH KING, Features Editor SCOTT SHARPE, Photography Editor ANN PETERS, Weekender Editor Chuck James. Ombudsman lailg ml filar- 89th year of editorial freedom Patrolmen's plight Highway patrolmen have never been wealthy men, but North Carolina has allowed the salaries of troopers to fall so low that the state is losing many of these qualified professionals at an unprecedented rate. In fact, some troppers with a starting salary who have children are eligible for food stamps. It is no wonder that troopers are leaving the job considered by law enforcement officials as one of the most dangerous in their field. So it comes as welcome news that Gov. Jim Hunt has promised that when the General Assembly meets in October, his top priority will be to secure a pay raise for all state employees. Hunt has targeted patrolmen and nurses as groups most in need of a raise. It would be difficult to contest the governor's efforts in pushing raises for these groups the most. Highway patrolmen make $1,000 to $3,000 less per year than police officers in the state's largest cities. The starting salary for a trooper is $12,468 a year fifth lowest in the nation. After three years that amount can increase to $15,550. The maximum nav for a trooner is $19,476, and most patrolmen do not reach this amount until after work ing nine years. For comparison, a starting policeman in the Charlotte Police Depart ment earns $14,755 a year and then can reach the maximum of $22,881 after only five years. The situation across the state is similar; police start at a higher salary and then make a higher maximum salary in a far shorter period of time. The result is that highway patrolmen are. leaving the forces in larger numbers than ever before. Personnel turnover has reached an annual rate of 7-10 percent. As it costs about $30,000 to train each patrolman, the exodus of troopers is already costing the state a considerable amount of money. A increase in salary even as little as $1,000 a year would keep troopers from leaving the patrol, state officials have said. It would also save the state the thousands of dollars it is currently using to train patrol men who leave without giving the state a full return on its investment in their training. Federal budget cuts have made money especially tight and Hunt has said funds for the Day increase would be more difficult to acauire than he once expected. Still, the complete support of the governor should go a long way toward achieving a raise that would more fairly compensate patrolmen and decrease the number of troopers who leave their jobs because of insufficient salary. To bee or not to bee When students anticipate returning to Chapel Hill, the prospect of lunch out by the Pit on a warm, sunny day seems a pleasant diversion. We remember cherished days of past years: watching nature-loving folk musicians, frisbee throwers and jugglers or listening to frenzied political activists and evangelists while quietly munching a sandwich. But, we con veniently tend to forget one thing. The Bees. Some, days they seem to be everywhere: on the cheeseburger, in the drink can, stuck in the ketchup, tangled in the hair or urgently converging like the UN Security Council on your dessert. The insects have no couth. They are pushy, arrogant and menacing. What street people are to a metropolis, The Bees are to UNC. Always begging for a handout, accosting the general public in an insane manner and making it unsafe to walk with sweets. But we cannot just complain about this sociological problem of The Bees without trying to understand the cause. It is estimated there are hundreds of homeless bees in the Pit area. Driven from their natural homes and forced into a concrete jungle sur rounded by the huge urbanesque union complex, they have nowhere to turn, but the garbage can. It is a vicious circle. They find themselves alienated because they eat out of garbage cans and can be found resting on picnic table benches long after normal students have deserted the area each day. They are forced to feed on the filth and squalor they enhance. Today, they are a problem ignored by the public. We'd rather pretend they're just not there and look the other way when they fly off with a sweet morsel or two. v But this type of attitude can't last. The problem will only increase. Custodians become hesitant to empty the infested garbage, the bees' en vironment becomes filthier; they become more irritable, trapped and stacked up in what could only be considered inadequate and substandard will result in us the general public being stung. The Daily Tar Heel Assistant Managing Editors: Mark Ancona, Cindy Cr an ford, Rachel Perry Editorial Vriters: John Drescher, Beverly Shepard Assistant News Editor David Jarrett News Desk: Melody Adams, Cheryl Anderson, Keith Cooke, Reniece Henry, Michele Pelkey, Leisha Phillips, Carol Reynolds, Laura Seifert, Louise Spieler, Mike Turner, Darryl Williams and Chip Wilson. News: Ted Avery, Richard Boyce, Laurie Bradsher, Alan ChappleAlichelle Chris tenbury, John Conway, Nancy Davis, Kerry DeRochi, Lynn Earley, Tracy Ford, Jane Foy, Deborah Goodson, Steve Griffin, Louise Gunter, Karen Haywood, Katherine Long, Dean Lowman, Diane Lupton, Monica Malpass, Elaine McOatchey, Joe Morris, Ann Murphy, Eddie Nickens, Jamee Osborn, Lynn Peithman, Rachel Perry, Leisha Phillips, Scott Phillips, Jeannie Reynolds, Mark M. Schoen, Ken Siman, Jonathan Smylie, Lynne Thomson, Lynn Worth and Tammy Wright. Sports: Geoffrey Mock, assistant sports editor; Kim Adams, Jackie Blackburn, R.L. Bynum, Stephanie Graham, Adam Kandell, Draggan Mihailovich and Linda Robertson. Features: Ramona Brown,' Jane Calloway, Susan Hudson, Steve Moore, David Rome, Randy Walker and Chip Wilson, assistant Weekender editor. . Arts: Marc Routh and Leah Talley, assistant arts editors; Vick Griffin; Nissen Ritter; Bob Royalty and Guha Shankar. Graphic Arts: Matt Cooper, Danny Harrell, Dane Huffman and Tom Westarp, artists; Susanne Conversano, Matt Cooper, Jay flyman and Al Steele, photographers. Business: Rejeanne V. Caron, business manager; Linda A. Cooper, secretaryreceptionist; Brooks Wicker, bookkeeper; Dawn Welch, circulationdistribution manager, Julie Jones, Angie Wolfe, classifieds. Advertising: Paula Brewer, advertising manager; Mike Tabor, advertising coordinator; Jeff Glance, Julie Granberry, Julia Kim,. Keith Lee, Robin Matthews, Jeff McElhaney, Karen Newell and Betsy Swartzbaugh, ad representatives. . Composition: Frank Porter Graham Composition Division, UNC Printing Department. Printing: Hinton Press, Inc., of Mebane. Bunker p o ver junior high By MARK MURRELL And HARLEY FLANAGAN Editor's note: Harley Flanagan is a 14-year-old drum mer with the New York punk rock band, The Stimu lators, which has played in clubs in Raleigh and Chapel Hill this week. He is the nephew of the band's guitarist, Denise Mercedes. Between sets Monday night, Harley shirtless, with a crew cut, energetically strumming a guitar talked to three visitors in his hot, cramped, graffiti-scrawled dressing room at a local club. Q: I just got the breath knocked out of me out there on the dance floor. What's going on? Harley: It's worse in New York, man, much worse. In New York, everyone tries to slam dance as hard as they can. Everybody does it just to have a good time, but some of them start getting too much into hurting people and it gets really wild sometimes. It's like the bouncers have sort of given up. They're just too tired of throwing people out. So now, I mean, like, a few shows ago I was really psyched up, so I grabbed this chair and I threw it in the back of the room and I threw another one and hit this guy in the head by accident and then I threw this table up in the air and it landed on this girl's head and then everybody just started kicking the tables over. . Q: How old are you? Harley: Fourteen. Q: Well, how did a 14-year-old start playing drums for a punk band? Harley: I've been playing drums since I was seven and I played my first concert when I was eight. I was living in Europe and they didn't have too much music there. I mean, they were like years behind the times. They were still listening to Led Zeppelin and I got really bored with the music there. Then, my mom went to England and she brought me back some re cords. She brought me back the Sex Pistols and The Damned and I listened to them and I was totally fas cinated by it. ; So, I went to this punk convention and these guys said "You're cool, but you need a haircut," cause my hair was pretty long, like down past my ears. So, they just sat me down and got the scissors and they started chopping away at my head. And then, before you knew it, I had like a Sid Vicious haircut. Q: How old were you when that happened? 7 V ' 0 HsrlSy's sunt Dcniso Hsiiay Ransgan, Harley: Eleven or twelve. And then I went to Eng land in '78 and I really got totally into it. I was living, like, with Rat Scabies and all them. He just snuck me into one of the shows. After The Damned broke up, he was playing with this band the White Cats, and they had to sneak me in clubs because the bouncers would throw me out. They had to stand in a circle around me over in the corner of the room so the bouncers wouldn't see me. Q: How did you start playing with the Stimulators? Harley: Johnny Blitz of the Dead Boys was drum ming with them and they were going to Philadelphia and he called up and said, "I can't make it, I'm sick." The band finally said forget it and said, "Harley you're drumming for us tonight." And I was like really shocked because I didn't know any of the songs. So what we did is we took a tape of one of the concerts and a cassette player and some drum sticks and I sat in the back of this U-Haul and drummed on my knees to the tape. I learned the songs like that and went out and did the best show we ever did. Q: What about school and stuff like that? What do your parents think about you? Harley: Well, school they want me to do good in school. See, my school doesn't start for another week or two and in New York, we're pretty famous, we're well known and everything, so we usually play on weekends, anyway. Q: You guys have played Belfast, too, right? Harley: Yeah, it was great. The first show we did. was pretty hectic because people were running back and forth across the stage hitting each other across the head with chair legs and bottle and people were running around bleeding. Like, right when our set ended, a bunch of police came in with bullet-proof vests and started hitting people and making them get out. Like, they cleared the place out. Like, everybody that wasn't fighting was in the bathroom sniffing glue, so everybody was totally messed up that night. Q: Do you find audiences in the United Kingdom differ from audiences in America, or do they? Harley: They dress differently. And, also, over there most of the people who are really into it are all working-class kids who are like really poor. And over ' here right now in L.A., for example, most of them are little rich kids basically. And that's why a lot of the L.A. scene is pretty gross because they all got a lot of money so all they do is go out and buy lots of drugs. (Charley's aunt, guitarist Denise Mercedes, walks in and sits down.) Q: We had planned to come here and not dance and left, with tha Stimulators do a straight interview and drink no beer and you can obviously see that it didn't work that way. Denise: Let me see. Gross. Your hair's greasy. Q: Is there any name for this new dance people are doing? Harley: Right now, it's just called slam dancing.! Denise: We were in Belfast last year in Northern Ireland, and we saw the absolute forerunner of the slam. It was called the Monster Attack. Harley: What they were doing, basically, was throwing each other on the ground, stomping on each other, grabbing each other by the hair, hitting each other and getting up laughing, drinking a beer. Q: Were you guys shocked? Denise: Sure. I thought they were crazy. Q: You're playing for these people and yet you're shocked by what they're doing? Denise: I mean, people are getting so wild over there. Harley: Over here, everybody walks out of clubs clean, maybe sweaty and stuff, but over there mostly because the floors were really dirty people would walk out totally black, caked with dirt and beer all over them. People get so drunk over there be fore they go out dancing. One, time there was this concert and I saw this guy standing in the middle of the dance floor taking a piss and laughing at every body. Q: So, what's it like going back to school after all that? . Harley: If you haven't got something good to say about something, don't say anything. Q: I was just telling somebody I wanted to do a different type interview, so I just wanted to ask you what your favorite flavor of ice cream is. Denise: I don't eat ice cream anymore. Harley: Butter pecan. Actually, I like any ice cream. Denise: I like sherbet. Harley: I hate sherbet. You're disgusting. Q: What about bands? What bands do you like the most? ; Denise: None, none. Every band sucks. The Manager: You go on again in five minutes. Harley: Any band that's loud and fast and can keep it together and is good -"" Q: Loud,' Fast Rules, right? Denise: Loud, Fast Rules. Harley: Of course. ; . Mark Murrell, a senior journalism and English major from Jacksonville, is associate editor for The Daily Tar Heel. Harley Flanagan is a 14-year-old punk drummer. 1 sorority rasli woiH'm system By JONATHAN TALCOTT As anyone who is allergic to conformity certainly knows, sorority rush at Carolina has begun. Everyone is happy to contribute a favorite rush joke or anecdote to any conversation. Some of the official sugges tions of the Panhellenic Counsel given to rushees were read over the airwaves to pro-" vide comic relief at a local radio station. Despite all of the abuse sorority rush receives around campus, most of its major critics remain aloof and only partially in formed. In fact, sorority rush at UNC employs a fair system that could be im proved only slightly. The innumerable rules to which rushees are subjected are usually well-conceived. , Sororities, however, do tend to en courage conformity to make the system run more smoothly and efficiently. Sorority rush could be improved by reducing con formity and relaxing the atmosphere in several ways. According to Panhellenic Council Pres ident Betsy Brady, "the 12 sororities on campus have to process 906 girls in less than two weeks." Hours of effort during the summer months and the first week of school also go into finding out about potential rushees. "Different houses have different systems but most houses use alumni references to collect information on rushees," said Gina Whichard, the president of the Tri-Delta house. "Every girl fills out a poop sheet on herself explaining what are her interests, her ambitions, and her hobbies," said Monica McCarty , the president of the Phi Mu sorority. Each of the five rounds that are held during sorority rush has a different focus and purpose: Round one is to get ac quainted; round two is to portray the reputation of the house; round three con centrates on introducing the rushees to in dividual sisters and their interests; round four is an opportunity for the sororities to show the rushees around the interior of the house; and round five allows one last look for the rushees and the rushers. The first round is only 20 minutes while the last round allots 45 minutes to visit the houses the rushee is seeing that evening. To the fratty-bagger, these contrived appearances and constraining rules might seem unnecessary; to a non-Greek they might well seem absurd. But in many ways the system is fairer than that of the frater-. nities and for that matter, some college admissions processes. While the rushees get to see all 12 houses, most fraternity rushees limit themselves to just one or two, often depending on sterotypes and advice of friends to make the decision. One fraternity member confided that he had to pick up a rushee at his room so that another fraternity would not steal him the night they had a rush function. Fraternities can set up dates for rushees, take them out to dinner, and paint bad pictures of competing houses. Because of the "limited silence" rule, girls in sororities are not allowed to talk with rushees outside of rush rounds. The sorority rush process unfortunately fosters conformity in an attempt to make the atmosphere more relaxed. Brady ad mitted that girls are encouraged to wear certain types of clothing to be more com fortable. " We have had a great deal of ex perience with rush and we are simply trying to share what we have learned," she said. However, one sorority girl who asked to remain nameless said, "During the first two rounds you depend heavily on judging girls by their appearance." And in TWO' COUNTS OP VEAHI COT ASSAULT . 4 MUftOER PUI AND BATTERY, RAPE, I AGGRAVATE t AND MURDER. HEX . - I ASSAULT WHAT ARE YOU I , p ' ; w I I f SORORITY dL ' -: ' I '' '" k I 'L '' :' RWH -':"--- the 1981 Guide to Carolina Sorority Rush, there are suggestions on what type of shoes to wear, what kind of perfume to wear, whether or not to smoke cigarettes and chew gum and what to talk about. . "The pamphlet is to help the girl who is nervous and unsure of how to handle the pressure of rush," Brady said. Although Brady's arguments about conforming rushees are perfectly under standable when considering the UNC rush schedule, many problems with soro rity rush could be avoided if it were not held at the very beginning of the year. On other college campuses such as Duke and Vanderbilt, sorority rush is held during the second term of the school year. By having rush later in the year, the sororities have the opportunity to learn more about the girls who are rushing and conversely the rushees have more know ledge about the houses. Though this has been rejected by former rushees at UNC in two surveys in the last two years, the option of a second term rush should be reconsidered. Tri-Delt Rush Chairperson Caroline Webb said, "It might be good to hold rush in the spring term but as long as girls have another charice if they drop out of fall rush, we might just as well not change the system. If girls felt hurried they could always come back the following fall. Un fortunately, a girl may not get a fair and in-depth look at all of the houses during a two-week fall rush and might well make a wrong choice and never realize it," Webb said. Hplly Griffin, president of Zeta Tau Alpha said that she would also prefer second-term rush to the present system. Many other problems with sorority rush could also be solved by having rush later in the year. A rush guide would not have to be put out containing so many sugges tions since the rushees would have time to consult friends in sororities. Sorority rush at UNC has many rules that make a good basis for many jokes. They also provide a fair system for mat ching approximately 900 girls to one of 12 houses. The most criticized parts of rush could be eliminated by moving rush back to the spring term. The Panhellenic Council could thus face the charges of superficiality head on. They might simultaneously avoid becoming part of a sarcastic, though funny, radio show. Jonathan Talcott, a sophomore history and political science major from Litchfield, Conn., is a staff writer for The Daily Tzi Heel.