The Des Moines Register from Des Moines, Iowa • Page 15

The Des Moines Register Monday, May31, 1993 ISA ssayComment Complacency at Statehouse? Wedding Tips Just have the groom find his socks 1970s-tyle is out of date On Capitol Hill redding season is again upon us, and you brides-to-be are busy as bees, finalizing ar rangements for your dress, flowers, catering, clergyperson, shower-curtain-pattern selection, and the 17 million other details that make planning a wedding far more complex than building a space station. Meanwhile you grooms have been entrusted with the Iowa politicians say they aren't complacent. Their actions, however, indicate they no longer have the same pro-job hustle they showed during the 1980s. David Yepsen owa is on a bit of a roll, according to the forecasters. A record num-B ber of Iowans are working.

Iowa rates well as a good place to raise kids. It's one of the best places to live. Low crime, clean environment, good work ethic, good schools, etc. There's just a lot of good news. On a nice Memorial Day weekend, there's a temptation to sit back and be thankful we don't live in urban America.

It's also worth considering whether we are getting complacent about it. There's evidence that Statehouse politicians are. One of the biggest challenges they face is finding ways to avoid having all the good news lull us back into a 1970s-style complacency. Des Moines Chamber of Commerce boss Steve Zumbach says a study of the city's future has discovered "our tendency to be complacent. Our consultant tells us that we want to be too satisfied with our situation." At the Statehouse, politicians say they aren't complacent.

Their actions, however, indicate they no longer have the same pro-job hustle they showed during the 1980s. They: Did nothing to help the gaming industry, jeopardizing 2,000 jobs. Let one of the state's premier job-creating programs, Community Eco- responsibility of locating dark socks. The groom traditionally does not play a major role in the preparations. This may make him feel somewhat extraneous: GROOM (on phone): Hello, Mrs.

Heemer. This is Ed. BRIDE'S MOTHER: Ed? Dave Barry But that may not be final. There are no women among these eight and that upsets supporters of Mary Richards and Kay Chapman, who were under consideration for the U.S. attorney spots.

The flap probably helps Nicker-son's chances because he's black and Harkin will have to quiet the grumbling that he's insensitive to diversity. It's turning into one of these deals where Harkin is going to make more people mad than happy. Longtime Register Farm Editor Don Muhm is retiring. They held a little roast for him recently and the politicians and notables lined up to needle and tell jokes: Greenfield's Hugh Sidey, on loan to Time magazine, reported that during the 30 years Muhm was reporting on agriculture, "60 percent of the 2.5 million farmers went broke and gave up the ghost At the same time, the Department of Agriculture, which relied on the perceptions of Don, grew from 81,585 to 113,405 employees. After all, those busted farmers had to go someplace.

And during Don's enlightened time, the country's beef consumption fell from 00 pounds to 67 pounds." With that sort of record, Sidey suggested Muhm cover the Legislature. Judy Massabny, director of information for the National Grange, said, "Farm editors never retire, they just spade away." Senator Charles Grassley said he's no good at telling jokes and that he asked his wife, Barbara, what he should do. Her reply: "Most people think politicians are jokes so just get up and be yourself." Harkin said there are many reasons why Muhm should not retire, including: "You haven't explained why so many Iowa towns are named after water towers." "Iowa agriculture needs a strong voice for Belgian endive growers." "We still don't know why the Warren County 4-H club calls itself the Happy Hustlers." "You made 'National Goat Awareness Week' a reality for millions of Iowans." "Dave Yepsen still thinks 'barrows and gilts' is the name of a local law firm." trade programs. Iowa has more economic-development programs than Des Moines has parking ramps. Programs are created and never financed.

When it comes to hunting jobs, Iowa uses birdshot instead of hollow-point ammunition. With a record like this, you can make a case that these politicians are anti-job. Not true. They did manage to raise their own pay. State politicians will tell you they can't do some of these things because they don't have the money.

They don't have any money for economic-development programs because they broke the promise hey made when they created the lottery. They promised that money would go for economic development Today, the gambling profits are poured into the general fund to make their deficit look smaller. What it means is that now, when a rising tide of optimism and low interest rates are making for good times in Iowa, the state's ability to ride the wave has been restricted. An Iowa town will be able to lure a California company but find there's no matching money to use as bait. The diversion of the lottery profits has also undercut public support for the gambling Industry.

If lawmakers saw those profits going to work in their communities, they'd think twice about torpedoing the industry. Great Mentions and Trial Balloons: ISU economist Mark Edelman is considering running for governor as an independent, according to people in Ross Perot's movement in Iowa. Senator Tom Harkin is getting all kinds of heat over his federal patronage appointments. He has a federal judgeship, two U.S. attorneys and two VS.

marshals to name. The four lawyers Harkin nominated last week for the judgeship are Bob Pratt of Des Moines, a long-time Harkin crony; U.S. Magistrate Mark Bennett of Des Moines; labor lawyer MacDonald Smith of Sioux City and Iowa District Judge William Thomas of Cedar Rapids. Insiders say the nominees for U.S. attorney in southern Iowa are Don Nickerson and Kasey Kincaid of Des Moines.

Kincaid is a longtime Democratic activist. In the northern district, the picks are reportedly former legislators Steve Rapp of Waterloo and Bob Rush of Cedar Rapids. nomic Betterment Account (CEBA), run out of money one month into the fiscal year. The governor and the Legislature recommended $3 million for the program. They needed $6 million.

A lot of communities are going to be turned down for grants that might help them land the very jobs they need to get some spark back. Didn't expand the drug-testing law, which some employers say is needed to protect workers and the workplace. Didn't provide property-tax breaks that business leaders say are necessary to attract new manufacturing jobs. Never fully funded Congressman Neal Smith's request for more money for high-technology job-creation programs at Iowa State. Republicans don't want to make Smith look good so they don't give him the money he says is needed for programs he champions.

Democrats torpedo Gov. Terry Bran-stad's efforts for the same reason. Failed to put federal telecommunications traffic on the new fiber-optic network. That could have raised millions from the U.S. government to offset network costs and helped create dozens of jobs in Iowa.

(The fiber-optic network is shaping up to be a repeat of the time ISU threw away the computer because the poo-bahs there were too dense to understand the ramifications of the invention and wouldn't invest in it.) Turned down a request by the Department of Employment Services to use some of the interest from the huge surplus in the unemployment trust fund for job-training and job-creation programs. Did not eliminate the duplication in all the economic-development and DAVID YEPSEN is The Register's chief political reporter. Monica Winston Recalling services on Memorial Day tirst Memorial uay was neany tu years ago. World War II had ended. For all of us, even children, the fear of German subs lurk muffled drums which, better than words, impressed on us that this was a solemn occasion no talking.

Our official duty was to put on a soldier's grave both our flag and a wreath made out of evergreen which a few short days ago still lived in the local ing off the coast had barely begun to fade. GROOM: Ed Sneed. The groom. BRIDE'S MOTHER (yelling to the bride): Monica, are we having a groom? BRIDE'S VOICE (after a lengthy pause): Yes. Ted somebody.

The reason the groom is not involved in preparations is that, traditionally, the groom is a guy, and guys cannot be entrusted with wedding details. Fortunately, you brides get help from the nation's giant wedding industry (Motto: "Your Wedding Is Sacred. It Should Cost A You can also rely on leading experts such as Modern Bride magazine and myself. I obtained my expertise by personally serving as the groom in two weddings; for the second, I was placed totally in charge this is true of bringing mustard to the reception. So I wish to present, as my special gift to you brides-to-be, the following Wedding Tips: PLAN YOUR HONEYMOON WARDROBE CAREFULLY.

This tip is based on an Associated Press article from the Naples, Daily News sent in last year by alert reader David Shapiro. The article states that a honeymooning bride and groom got into a "heated dispute," during which the bride became so upset that she leaped over a nearby railing. This was not wise, inasmuch as they were aboard a cruise ship in the Atlantic Ocean. Fortunately, a waiter threw the bride a life preserver. But imagine her embarrassment at being pulled from the sea wearing a drab, ill-fitting flotation device.

Your well-prepared bride would have brought several of her own (pastels for daytime; darker solids for evening wear). By the way: It is the responsibility of the groom to tip the waiter. SELECT RECEPTION FOOD WISELY. This tip is based on an item from the St. Petersburg (Fla.) Times, sent in by Kate Denison.

The article I am not making these articles up begins: "A wedding reception turned violent Saturday when the bride threw a plate of macaroni salad at the groom and the groom shot the bride in the stomach, Tampa police said." Here we see why leading wedding authorities stress that brides should NEVER throw a salad. As etiquette expert Amy Vanderbilt put it: "The bride must always throw a menu item with sufficient density to render an armed groom unconscious, such as prime rib or, ideally, fruitcake." Speaking of throwing food, the most important tip is: DO NOT INVITE CINDY SEIP TO YOUR WEDDING. Cindy is a friend of mine. Last year I wrote about a wedding she attended where a dispute erupted over the catering arrangements, culminating when the groom, in front of all the guests, threw the cake at the caterer. Cindy told me that not long after that, she attended another wedding, this one in Indiana, and everything went flawlessly, except that this is all true (1) the hall where the rehearsal dinner was to be held burned down; (2) the minister moved away two weeks before the wedding; (3) the bridesmaids were unable to get their dresses, or their money back, when the owner of the dress-rental store was arrested in a cocaine bust; (4) the bride and groom, who were supposed to drive to Indianapolis, spend a romantic wedding night in a hotel, then fly to Florida the next morning to get on a cruise ship, discovered, upon arrival at the hotel, that they had forgotten the bride's suitcase, and thus spent their wedding night romantically driving back home to retrieve it; and (5) when they finally got to Florida, they were informed that the cruise line had gone bankrupt.

This was fortunate. The ship would undoubtedly have sunk. My point is that you should cross Cindy off your guest list, because, the way things are going, the next wedding she attends will end with an Iraqi air strike. Anyway, I hope these tips are helpful, and I'm sure you're going to have a wonderful wedding day, from the moment you wake up, to the moment, 45 seconds later, when you discover your huge new nose zit. No! It'll be a great day.

Relax, have fun, and remember: for evening weddings, the flak jackets should be formal. DAVE BARRY writes for the Miami Herald. His column is distributed by Knight-Ridder Neirspapers. We entered the cemetery to the beat of muffled drums which, better than words, impressed on us that this was a solemn occasion no talking. woods.

Military graves had black cast-iron markers. But then I was short and couldn't easily see a marker in the forest of gravestones. So my first year, I felt a surge of panic; I was afraid I'd have to search the whole cemetery while everyone else marched off. Yet soon I was back to my class formation and a little pushing and shoving. We decorated graves for soldiers from the Civil War, which was dim prehistory to me but not to the older folks.

Our retired minister, the Reverend Sawyer, spoke of the Grand Army of the Republic soldiers he remembered. Since he was born To me, the more important part of the program was my part. For weeks in the drowsy end of the afternoon, we had been practicing in our one-room schoolhouse finessing flag drills, belting out 'The Battle Hymn of the Republic" and stumbling over poems. Finally, when we stood on the town hall stage, we found a new element had been added an adult audience staring straight at us. The whole hall became very quiet when we started to recite, "In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses row on row We are the dead.

Short days ago We lived At this point, a woman started sobbing uncontrollably. Her pain startled and scared me. My mother later explained that the woman cried because someone she loved had just died in the war. All things end and soon we were riding back home in the bright sunlight of a warm and fresh spring day. The mist had dissolved just like the fear of "What if we don't win the war?" had evaporated.

No more need for blackout curtains in our windows, or for Dad to be out after dark looking for lights or strangers. My uncles who had suddenly gone to strange places were safely back home. Recently I was at my Uncle Bernard's funeral; his Purple Heart was proudly placed on his coffin. Other veterans who had fought in the same war and then marched with him on Memorial Day were at the services, too. I was impressed by the bond they still had and I started to remember when I was young and Memorial Day services seemed sacred.

MONICA WINSTON is a wrUerfrom Eliot, Maine. On Memorial Day I worried that my patent leather shoes would get wet in the graveyard. The service started early in our small New England town. It seemed we always marched to the cemetery as the morning mist, heavy with the scent of lilacs, still lingered. Dressed in suits and Sunday-best dresses, the people marched or watched.

Former servicemen wore full uniforms and looked ready to fight again. Among the soldiers were three of my uncles. They never talked about the war and we were told not to ask. Hut once at Thanksgiving dinner, gentle Uncle Richard softly said, "When we fought the Germans in the African desert, all we had to eat for weeks was canned carrots and lemonade." Memories, like restless ghosts, must have marched with him on those early Memorial Days. The parade formed in front of the old burial ground where the memory of other soldiers, fighters in our War of Independence, is carved on stones.

White steepled churches stood like sentinels as our teacher lined us up, two by two. She instructed us to be careful with the little flags we all carried. Such is the power of early childhood training that even today my response to someone waving a small flag isn't a surge of patriotism, but a strong desire to say, "Be careful or you'll poke somebody's eye out!" Past fields and woods, we marched the quarter-mile from the old cemetery (1735) to the new (1829). Most adults stopped at the fence of iron spears. Only the band, soldiers and children entered to the beat of only nine years after the Civil War ended, he had a chance to know them well.

Cemetery ceremonies finished, we marched double-time to the town hall where Reverend Sawyer led us in prayer and through a long speech. Elizabeth Sciujett A thoughtful stroll among a wealth of creatures leisurely morning stroll is gently interrupted by an unfamiliar sound. Sort of a lop- ina. hollow "cIod. clop." I turn to in A lioness looks me in the eye and glances away in search of something more interesting.

ples of the glorious wealth of creatures that used to inhabit this planet Earth. I am reminded that their ancestors go back millions of years. What have they done, I wonder, to deserve extinction? Or better yet, what have we done to deserve survival? Webster defines the word "thoughtful" as characterized by careful reasoned thinking; mindful of others The Columbus Zoo in central Ohio is an experience in thoughtfulness. ELIZABETH SCHUETT, a teacher and writer in Gibsonburg, Ohio, is a frequent contributor to Cox News Service. closely before moving on.

A male sarus crane dances around his lady love in a courting ritual. He is a most impressive fellow with his long, skinny backward-hinged knees. He's dressed all in white feathers topped by a pearl gray cutaway coat and a brilliant red beret. He flaps his broad wings and dances and dips round and round an apparently uninterested female who refuses to notice him. He stretches, preens, jumps, and poses in an attempt to capture the attention of his lady.

It is a civilized version of human courtship governed by strict rules and standards of behavior designed to ensure order and survival of the species. All around are magnificent exam so slightly, looks me in the eye and glances away in search of something more interesting. A young, fan-eared African elephant stands at the edge of his pond, dabbling one foot in the water and studying the ripples as they spin away. Smoothly, he slips in and wades to the shoulder-high flume of water spewing from the rocks. He knows that by leaning into the flow he can control the direction of the water and where it lands on his mammoth body.

His bathing ritual is precise; left side, right side, face. The tip of his trunk comes back and rubs the water from his eyes. As he slowly steps from the pond, he swishes each foot through the water and inspects it vestigate. Three camels in fancy dress quietly slip by in a single file. Moments later a piercing shriek stops me dead in my tracks.

It's coming from behind a giant eucalyptus tree off to my right. An answering scream comes from a grassy area to my left. I wait, motionless. Soon a magnificent peacock with all of his colorful finery on display struts across the path in front of me in search of the shrieker. Down in the savanna splendid cheetahs stretch out full length and catnap in the soft grass.

A lioness turns her regal head ever 1 1.