New housing policies pinch student wallets

Baker University has altered its housing policies, forcing incoming freshman to live in student dormitories.
Read The Baker Orange's article about the change.

Students under 21 are required to live on campus in residence halls. One way out of dorms is to live in a greek house. But to do that, students must have 30 college credit hours.

In the past, freshmen who earned 30 credit hours during high school could bunk up in greek houses. Not anymore. The new housing policy no longer recognizes those hours. Instead, the 30 hours must be attained AFTER high school.

The change puts greek houses in a bind by reducing budget expectations. Some houses have freshmen move in at the launch of each semester. Devoid of freshmen members, it might be harder for houses to meet financial obligations.

So why the sudden distinction between hours earned in high school and hours earned after? Well, Baker claims living in dorms enhances the student learning experience. The resources available in a dorm enable students to comfortably nuzzle their way into college life, Baker officials say.

But it's really not about student comfort. It's really about money. Baker banks on having a certain amount of on-campus residents. Strict regulations make it pretty easy to dip into students' wallets. Now it's even easier.

Baker's kind of like the school bully, hoisting up new freshmen and shaking money and earned college credit hours from their grasp.

One of the dorms is infected with mold and has a leaky ceiling Watch Fox 4's coverage of the problems , while the others are tightly cramped. Given the current conditions of student resident halls, Baker should be trying to help students find quality living quarters. But intead, it's using an iron fist to generate a profit.

The new housing policies are bogus and should be altered immediately.

Caucus causes problems

Barack Obama swept away the Douglas County vote for the Democratic caucus. He garnered a honking 80 percent of the vote.

More dedicated than postal workers, voters flocked to the polls in large numbers. They trudged through snow and endured icy winds and rain while standing in long lines during the dark, cold night.

Organizers were overwhelmed -- and perhaps under prepared-- because it was the first signficant caucus in Kansas within the past decade.

Some voters were turned away after arriving just a few minutes late. Rejected voters cited their inability to locate a parking space as the hazard holding them back. Some said the caucus was not planned well and as a result, people were pushed away for not meeting an arbitrary deadline.

But while some people weren't allowed to vote because they missed the time slot, many did make it. Whether everyone was able to vote or not, it's nice to see people willingly endure unfavorable conditions for the value of democracy.

Beef, it's what's for dinner. Grass-fed beef, that is.

Click here to listen to a podcast of Kurtis talking about grass-fed cattle

Click here to listen to Kurtis recite a snatch of dialog from the movie "The Legend of Ron Burgandy," which he narrated.

When hunger strikes, it's not unusual to shove the key into the ignition, roll down to the nearest fast food joint and list off items. Within minutes, a stressed worker plops a slab of meat on a bun, crams it into a paper bag and viola: dinner.

In order to afford this convenience, however, the cows used to make the meat are typically jammed into lots and filled with corn-feed.

But feedlot cattle aren't the only options for dinner. Bill Kurtis-- a well-known journalist and KU graduate-- and his company, Tallgrass Beef, offer a viable alternative: grass-fed cattle.

It's not a new idea. In fact it's the traditional diet for cattle, and for the past few decades farmers have tinkered with reviving it.

However, it seems to have been a battle between convenience and health.

To keep up with the demand for beef, ranchers try to fatten cattle quickly, preparing them for slaughter and ushering them onto your dinner plate in a timely fashion.

But, corn-fed beef are usually high in saturated fat, which is linked to heart disease. They're also typically low in Omega 3s, which can combat heart disease by lowering blood pressure.

The trend isn't hard to spot: it's tasty and fast, but not very healthful.

Kurtis claims the switch from corn to grass is a healthy event for both the cow and the consumer. He describes the process as "moving ahead by traveling backward." And Kurtis's cows don't taste gamy like other grass-fed beef because the stock of cattle used have the right genetics, he says.

Kurtis and Michelle Martin recently compiled a collection of recipes, many designed to make grass-fed beef a normal rotational meal item.


But Kurtis doesn't anticipate a massive chunk of consumers to flock forward for grass-fed beef. He thinks there's an audience, but it's just a small slab of the beef-eating pie.

"We're decaf coffee," Kurtis said. "We're the alternative."

Salvation Army doesn't reach fundraising goal

This holiday season, like most before it, the masses bustled into stores with lists, and shuttled out clutching bags filled with presents. But on their way to their cars, they were confronted with a familiar sight and sound: Workers swallowed by coats, gloves, and scarves,their waists draped with red aprons,flailing and swinging bells up and down. The ringing and jingling called many to slip leftover change or dollar bills into red kettles.

The Douglas County Salvation Army reeled in about $72,000 during its Red Kettle Campaign this holiday season, but it fell short of its goal by $30,000. Associates attributed the falling snow and biting chill as reasons for the gulf. As a result, the Salvation Army reported it will probably have to cut some programs during the spring.

The Salvation Army is known for providing financial assistance, food and shelter to those in need. To many it is the timber keeping them afloat-- in a home and off the streets-- in a sea of poverty. It helps the financially unstable maintain basic utilities like electric and gas.
In the fall,it uses donations to distribute school supplies to families and children who can't afford them.
And when a natural disaster strikes, the Salvation Army offers a helping hand. Its workers and volunteers offer piping hot meals and basic necessities like blankets, deodorant and soap to victims.
The good the Salvation Army produces is significant, and we should try to keep it in our thoughts during the off season. It's easy to bury the idea of donating amongst the clutter of daily priorities once the bells stop ringing. But just because the jinging stops, doesn't mean the giving has to.
You can donate at the Salvation Army's Red Kettle Web site: www.onlineredkettle.com

Season's magic lingers, leaves hope for next year

The gig is up. With an 11-1 record, KU finally lost. And to Mizzou at that, sharpening the blow.

Still, the season WAS magical. Out of no where KU's football team, which hardly even fuels students with spirit, had people from all over flocking to the games. Everyone wanted in on the festivities, as the team earned win after win for the first time in over 100 years. During most regular seasons, many people forget KU even HAS a football team.

So, as the season unfolded, it sucked more and more people in. It even gained attention from the Wall Street Journal. Heck, it even gained my attention. I haven't watched a football game since, well, since I've never actually watched a football game.

Until Saturday.

Of course, I've been in the same room with football game broadcasting on TV, but I'm a professional at blocking it out. And I usually have no idea what's going on anyway.

But on Saturday, for the first time in my life, I intentionally flipped the TV to a football game -- the football game. I drilled my company with questions about the dynamics of the game, and watched, enthralled, for its duration. After the second half, I had delusions of grandeur. I thought maybe the Jayhawks would pull it off. But I tuned into the season a little too late.

However, this time next year, the magic might return. And I might give KU my attention at a swifter pace.

Mayor Hack doesn't disclose financial interest in Deciphera

Lawrence Mayor Sue Hack made an image-tarnishing blunder after neglecting to fill out a form.

According to the Lawrence Journal World, Hack didn't turn in a "substantial interest form" before Douglas County Commission approved giving $3 million for economic development to Deciphera Pharmacy -- a company Hack has financial interest in.

Hack has over $5,000 invested in the company, but didn't make it public, she said, because she didn't think she had to. She thought she was only required to expose financial interest if it reached 5 percent of the company's stock.

Hack hasn't disclosed her exact stake in the company. All that's known is her investment teeters between $5,000 and 5 percent of the company's total value-- whatever that is.

When the commission reviewed options for Deciphera, Hack participated in a closed-door executive session. Details about the meeting are murky.

District Attorney Charles Branson is investigating whether the closed-door session violated the Kansas Open Meetings Act.

Hack said she didn't say anything that would reveal her position on the issue, and she didn't write the contract, which gives Deciphera a cut on property taxes without having to go through the standard tax abatement process.

Commission also authorized giving Deciphera cash payments when certain job totals are reached.

It hasn't been determined whether Hack will be charged for not filing the form. Hack said it was a mistake, but she could still get in trouble. Members with financial interest in a company are supposed to stay clear of executive sessions and discussions that determine the amount of monetary assistance given to said company.

Douglas County Commissioner Bob Johnson also had stock --$8,200-- in Deciphera. But Johnson followed the rules, filled out the form and didn't attend the closed-door session.

Observers are left confused.

While the pharmacy might very well improve the Lawrence community, one can't help but wonder if other companies could do the same; companies that council members don't have stock in. Have council members adopted a "might as well" mentality,(as in the commission is going to authorize investing millions to ensure a successful launch for the company, so I might as well cash in) and does this mentality reflect the best interests of Lawrence, or the best interest of the mayor?

Until more information unfolds, I'm going to abstain from making a call. But you would think that the mayor would have a better hold on commission rules.

The horror of Halloween is in not taking part

Today the lady who counted my money at the bank had spiders in her hair. Her long, pointy, green nails scraped across the bottom of the bills as she flipped through my money.

On any other day this scene would ring inappropriate. The banker would be terminated, and perhaps driven to a psych ward. But on Halloween things are different. The rules are flung out the window, and left there until time ticks the last minute of the night away.

People popped up in costumes at a stream of places today. I saw a cluster of grim reapers and goblins in front of the hotel on Ames in Baldwin. My neighbor masqueraded as that creepy guy from V for Vendetta. And I had a class with Mario, as in the brother. It's nice to see people of all ages celebrating this fun event.

But not everyone is dressing up. Some aren't even handing out candy.

I asked a few students what type of candy they were going to give this year. I got doe eyes.

"Candy? Huh?"

You know... that milk chocolatey, gooey, yummy stuff that you try not to eat lest you have to upgrade your pants size? Oh, they knew what it was. They just don't hand it out. From what I've gathered, word around Baker indicates not many do.

I found this unsettling. Maybe I'm just a little too attached to the holiday. But think about it. A little over a decade ago students hauled bags filled with candy corn, Reeses Pieces, Hersheys and Snickers bars from door to door. Their eyes beamed when they saw a porch light, and shot with disappointment when they spotted an undecorated, dark house.

It wasn't that long ago when students felt the thrill of Halloween by receiving. So why aren't many eager to feel a similar thrill by giving?

Distributing Halloween candy enhances the community connection. It shows that you care. And it demonstrates that you know how to have fun.

In this technologically driven, impersonal world, a gesture as subtle as slipping a fun-size bag of M&Ms into a plastic bag can crack the invisible barrier that separates us. Or, if anything else, it can cause the lips of a couple of kids to crack into a smile. That's priceless. So next year, hustle to the grocery and lug a variety pack to the checkout, because no one remembers the places without lights. Or the bankers without green nails.

P. S. If you do heed my advice for next year, don't pass out tooth brushes. That's the parents' domain.