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Americans
remember the Ôroyal familyÕ
COMMENTARY
- Kristin Davis
Two years have
passed since the ominous morning when the world awoke to mass coverage
of a search off the coast of MarthaÕs Vineyard. Flowers piled up
outside a Manhattan apartment, helicopters flew high and low, and
the President issued a statement. America grew somber; those old
enough felt a pang of grave familiarity, and the younger population
tasted the bitterness of trepidation.
John F. Kennedy,
Jr. was missing. The toddler who emanated the full grief of his
fatherÕs passing to the world with his pious salute was nowhere
to be found. He was a grown man nowÑAmericaÕs prince with his motherÕs
gentle disposition and his fatherÕs legacy. KennedyÕs plane, on
the way to a wedding and carrying his wife and sister-in-law had
disappeared from radar into a thick haze over a choppy sea.
Instead of celebration,
family members were swallowed up in grief and disbelief, and the
flags were lowered to half-staff. Soon the massive search and rescue
would dissipate into search and recovery, and the world would begin
mourning for hope lost, a life cut short, and another tragic end
in the Kennedy clan. Days after the initial search had begun America
allowed itself to lament the death of young Kennedy when his plane
was discovered resting on the ocean floor.
Still we mourn.
Still the sadness consumes many of us when media images flash through
our mindsÑmemories of the hot sun on an uneven sea, the hovering
helicopters, and the growing despondency of the newscasters. We
wanted him to come home and tell us all it was a bad joke. It could
not be real. Not again. Now we somehow smile through the pangs of
Òwhat-might-have-beensÓ when stations rebroadcast their interviews
and coverage of a handsome man full of wit and promise.
John F. Kennedy,
Jr. was our parentsÕ hope, a small right in a world of wrong, an
innocent being in a world of carnage and change. And he was our
dream. He was our link to a past we could only imagine, a part of
our history that we could not touch.
It is little
wonder we mourn still. His death was more than an end of life. It
was the loss of a volatile thread to our past, an unexpected end
to our wishes and recollections. Time passes and the wounds close,
but there exists an ever-present tenderness that leaves us susceptible
when another anniversary happens upon us, no matter our age or past.
Kristin Davis
is a Staff Writer. She can be reached at: theapp@appstate.edu.
Cars provide
convenience, but at what cost?
COMMENTARY
- Craig Cox
The traffic
issues in and around Boone during the summer months make me thankful
that I donÕt have to drive my car regularly.
A funny thing
happened last week while on the way to my family reunion: my car
broke-down. Despite the expense of repairs and not making it to
Atlanta for the reunion, IÕm thankful for my breakdown. The truth
is, cars are really just a huge headache that minimizes our happiness
while rushing us through life with tunnel vision.
There are a
few situations that can induce me to scream curse words and most
occur within the confines of the driver seat. Two situations that
nearly all of us have encountered pop into mind. The first is going
across town for something important only to be delayed for an hour
because a minor traffic incident occurred fifty cars ahead on the
highway.
The other is
getting behind a slow diver on the many two lane roads in and out
of Boone.
For instance,
letÕs say IÕm coming back to Boone from home on a Sunday afternoon
up highway 321. I am at peace with the world, cruising along, listening
to Dave Mathews Band. The car in front of me is going a little over
the speed limit, and thatÕs good enough for me. Eventually the road
changes from four lanes to two and suddenly the car in front of
me slows to way under the speed limit. Now cyclists are passing
us on the shoulder and there is no chance for me to pass for miles.
I begin to get uncomfortable in my seat, which soon degenerates
into yelling and extensive horn use.
I hate feeling
this volatile, but I have noticed I become upset at other drivers
frequently. I am not alone with these feelings however. Friends
are constantly commenting on road rage, expressing how much driving
in general frustrates them. Why do we put ourselves under this stress?
Cars put a drain
on money and resources. Consider, for instance, spending $20 a week
on gas will total $1040 per year. Add in five oil changes, $400
in monthly payments and insurance and unexpected repairs, and costs
for the yearly use of a car can reach upwards of $7000. Imagine
what these costs would add up to over a lifetime.
These costs
surely put increased pressure over our heads to make more money,
but the real issue at hand is the way our great mobility has increased
the speed of life beyond what produces the greatest happiness. The
expression Òstop and smell the rosesÓ is exactly what IÕm ÒdrivingÓ
at.
In our world,
we drive the kids to school, then to work, drive to lunch, drive
back to school, drive around town for errands before finally driving
home. We spend a great deal of time in our cars, driving, waiting
at lights, and in traffic! Cars have shaped the way we live our
lives.
Cars certainly
produce things such as pollution, resource depletion and increased
global greed. This is well documented, but the reason an average
American should resist car use is that it reduces the overall happiness
one can experience in life.
Was life, in
all its complexity, meant to be spent inside the confines of an
automobile? I donÕt want to spend my life in traffic!
The great American
road trip is so much fun, as is the Sunday drive into the countryside.
Automobiles can be fun, and useful, no doubt about it. The day-to-day
grind of constant driving to and from points A and B is what I wish
to discourage you from falling victim to. Live close to the places
you travel often and this will reduce or eliminate your driving
time, and thus increase your happiness.
Craig Cox
is a Staff Writer. He can be reached at: theapp@appstate.edu.
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