The Orlando Sentinel from Orlando, Florida on November 4, 1985 · Page 38
Get access to this page with a Free Trial

A Publisher Extra Newspaper

The Orlando Sentinel from Orlando, Florida · Page 38

Orlando, Florida
Issue Date:
Monday, November 4, 1985
Page 38
Start Free Trial

The Orlando Sentinel Wedding catches the groom off guard Glitter, D-2 Monday, November 4, 1985 ELA r V I V it. s. n New views of natural childbirth By Lisa Anderson Radio DEAN LOKKEN Munchkin of Love takes to the air SAN FRANCISCO "What'd you do today?" "What really makes you mad?" "What position do you sleep in?" With rapid-fire delivery aimed at catching the callers off guard, Joanne Greene for two hours each Monday through Friday pulls herself close to a microphone and probes the thoughts of the lovelorn on a call-in program. Greene, a smallish and intense woman with a non-stop giggle, is the host on San Francisco radio station KFRC's Affair on the Air, taking calls from half dozen people nightly who are looking for dates. They're called the "passers." After a brief description of the passers, Greene solicits telephone calls from those who like what they hear and want to hear more. They're the "receivers." , KFRC installed a conference-call telephone system so that the passers can talk directly to the receivers, and Greene can butt in at will. The conversation is interrupted by music, public service announcements, weather reports. But always, Greene steers the chatter back to the basics. ' 'What do you look like? De- scribe yourself," she demands. "What'd you like about Car-.mella?" she asked 24-year-old Bob, from San Mateo, Calif. Car-. mella the passer is a retail store buyer from Martinez, age ,31. "Older women were made for younger men," young Bob shot back. ; There is no end to the variety of callers. Single, straight, gay, new-, ly divorced, still married. When Greene thinks enough information has crossed the airwaves about each passer and hisher receivers, she breaks off , the conversation and tells the . passer to pick one date. The couple gets a free dinner at a restaurant of KFRC's choice. Since the nightly show began in May, Greene said, it has resulted in at least two marriages. Colleagues call her the "Munchkin of Love." ', Greene, 31, is a 10-year veteran of radio work, married and the ! mother of a small boy. Another baby is due in December. She's an endless source of ener-;gy, dashing into the radio studio just seconds before air time, hiking her small but very-pregnant frame onto a high stool and dropping her pumps to the floor. 1 Off with the earrings, on with the earphones. She slips off a ! bracelet or two, fiddles with tea-;and-milk in a Styrofoam cup ' all the while carrying on a conver-; sation with her call-in guests. Greene, a onetime newswoman !more experienced at putting together documentaries, says she was doing a three-hour issue-ori-"ented talk show when it struck ;her that a radio dating game might attract listeners to KFRC, an AM station having trouble competing with all-music FM sta-; tions. ' "I'd never been a radio person-; ality. I wanted to try it, to see if I ; could pull it off," she said, t The program now gets the high-', est public rating of any show on KFRC. Would she, if not happily mar-ried, call a radio station looking ' for love? : "Oh, No!" she replied. ' Pause. Greene adjusted a bracelet, shifted in her chair, giggled: "Maybe, if I was in a crazy mood. Yeah, I would. A lot of nice people call in." Richard Defendorfs Radio column will resume next week. Dean Lokken is a writer for Reuter's News Service. Radio listings, D-4 ; f ' "'"A ' 1 PHOTOR.l. THOMAS Ira Koger collects art because he loves art Childe Hassam's 'New York Winter Window' (at left) is typical of collection on display at Rollins. At t with an innocent air Exhibit recalls a gentler time By Laura Stewart Dishman SENTINEL ART CRITIC 'INTER PARK Ameri can art's long "summer" ended more than 50 years ago, but its golden mood lingers in the paintings and pastels in a major exhibit that will open Tuesday at Cornell Fine Arts Center on the Rollins College campus. "This was a summertime, a time when people were living and loving," said Ira Koger, 72, chairman and chief executive officer of Koger Properties Inc. in Jacksonville. The 40 works in "The Genteel Tradition: Impressionist and Realist American Art from the Ira and Nancy Koger Collection" date from 1880 to 1930 a period that produced the "summer school" of American paintings. The works are on loan to Rollins in honor of its 100th anniversary. In 1982, Cornell officials invited Koger to lend the works for the centennial celebration. He was glad to do so, Koger said: "How better to cele- f S brate Rollins' MrWlCW centennial " than by displaying paintings by artists who were active during the college's first century." The works were taken from the walls of the Rogers' home just for the Cornell exhibit, and they will be returned there as soon as the show closes Jan. 26. The paintings and pastels share space in the Rogers' home with collections Please see ART, D-5 JOHN RAOUXSfcNIINfcL Walter Granville-Smith's 'Regatta Day.' ... the 1915 work exemplifies the relaxed genteel time period. 'To Live and Die' is streetwise and intelligent By Jay Boyar SENTINEL MOVIE CRITIC You can't take much for granted while you're watching To Live and Die in L.A., one of the most suprising movies to open in months. Some of the surprises are swift and violent, like those of a chase scene in which a car enters an expressway via an exit ramp. Others are mainly visual, making use of expressive cinematography and wild camera angles. Mostly, though, the surprises have to do with questions of theme and structure. Just when you think you know where it's going, the film shifts gears and veers onto a metaphorical exit ramp. Through most of the movie you follow the adventures of Richard Chance and Eric Masters, men in opposition. Chance is a Secret Service agent who, near the start of the film, vows to do anything to avenge the murder of his old partner. Masters, a dispassionate counterfeiter, is the person responsible for the death. Also figuring prominently in the narrative is John Vukovich (John Pankow), the inexperi enced, by-the-book agent who becomes Chance's new partner. Unexpectedly, To Live and Die in L.A. turns out to be Vukovich's story. It's a loss-of-innocence parable, the sort of tale known intimately to those who live and die in L.A. Based on a novel by Gerald Petievich, the film was directed by William Friedkin from a screenplay by both director and novelist. Like such other Friedkin movies as The French Connection and The Exorcist, To Live and Die in L.A. verges on excess. It's hard to say where the violence, the sexuality and the flashiness stop contributing to the picture's themes and start becoming exploitative. But if Friedkin occasionally goes overboard, he certainly commands an attention-getting technique and manages to tell a fascinating story. To Live and Die in L.A. is an ensemble piece in which a number of actors in roles of various sizes work closely together. Among those with large roles, William Petersen is the weakest. He doesn't quite have the presence to bring off the important part of Chance. (Mickey Rourke might have had the energy to do it right.) And as Yukovich, John Pankow is Please see SURPRISE, D-6 Agents Petersen (left) and Pankow. r.lovio r oui civ 'To Live and Die In L.A.' Cask William Petersen, Willem Dafoe, John Pankow Director William Friedkin Screenwriters: William Friedkin, Gerald Petrievich Clnenatographer Robby Muller Music: Wang Chung Theaters: University 8 Cinema, Fashion Square Cinema, Winter Park Triple, Orange Blossom 2, Interstate Mall 6 Running time: 1 hour, 55 minutes Industry rating: R (restricted) Reviewer's evaluation- CHICAGO TRIBUNE CHICAGO When it began, it was considered medical heresy. By the '70s, it had become a household word. The Lamaze method of natural childbirth is marking its 25th anniversary in America this year, but there are still a few rattles shaking up the nursery. The American Society for Psy-choprophylaxis in Obstetrics (ASPO-Lamaze for short) is undergoing some changes in the '80s, and it is coming under fresh scrutiny from a new generation of older, often better-educated and working mothers who are as likely to question the natural-childbirth movement as they are to challenge the medical establishment. When the Lamaze method was introduced in the United States, it quickly came under fire from doctors, who had visions of fathers spreading germs in the delivery room or, worse, passing out in it and distracting the staff from the matter at hand. These fears have been proven generally groundless. In a quarter century, childbirth classes have not only become routine but have grown into a mini-industry in this country. There are a number of natural-childbirth methods and philosophies available, of which Lamaze is the most widespread. Today, natural-childbirth education often is examined more closely by parents than by doctors, and what they're looking for is high-quality, up-to-date and, above all, balanced information. It is on this question of balance that natural childbirth most often faces its critics these days. Adapting the theories pioneered by French physician Fernand Lamaze, ASPO-Lamaze battled fiercely to drag childbirth from the wake-me-when-it's-over maternity experience of the '50s into a new era of family-centered maternity care. The Lamaze approach stressed prenatal education of both parents, including relaxation and breathing techniques designed to relieve tension and thus reduce pain. The hoped-for result was an awake, aware mother, accompanied by the father, actively participating in giving birth as naturally as possible, with a minimum of "intervention" from technology or drugs. For parents, Lamaze strenuously advocated labor- and delivery-room rights that were revolutionary at the time. In the '60s and early '70s, concurrent with the most militant days of the feminist movement and anti-establishment fervor, Lamaze had an air of independence to which many women responded. The reluctance of many doctors to embrace the idea of natural childbirth only stiffened their resolve. In the '80s, Lamaze and other natural-childbirth methods have a quasi-establishment status in maternity wards around the country. Please see LAMAZE, D-6 Time is a tough boss but it can be a valuable partner The woman thought she had the rapt attention of the man on the other end of the telephone line. Then she heard running water and the clatter of dishes in the background. "What's that?" she asked. "I'm washing the dishes," he said. "One thing I learned in grad school, when I was really busy, was to do two things at once. Saves time." The same man reads in the bathroom, opens mail while watching TV, mentally writes reports while jogging and listens to radio newscasts on a Walkman while raking leaves. His behavior exhibits classic signs of trying to cram 25 hours worth of things to do into a 24-hour day. Harried workers learn to perfect such techniques by taking seminars and reading books on time management if they can spare the time. Masters of time management perceive time differently than do the people who never seem to find enough time to get I f e By Lisanne Renner OF THE SENTINEL STAFF things done. To one person, 24 hours represents opportunities; to another person, the same period represents limitations, said Peter Hancock, a professor who studies time perception at the University of Southern California's Institute of Safety and Systems Management. Efficient time managers view the day in terms of possibilities, said Hancock, and they treat time as a scarce resource to be used carefully. The hours and minutes displayed on a clock help synchronize society, but they mean little to the skillful time manager, said Hancock. It's what can be achieved in that time that matters. "Set your schedule not by the clock on the wall but by how long you know it will take to do something," Hancock said. "Set your day by the task, not by the time. Define the task by saying the words start and finish. Don't say, 'I'm going to work on this task that's going to take eight hours.' " If you pay too much attention to the clock, he said, "it becomes a driving dictator instead of a tool." In plenty of instances an individual's start and finish time frame won't jibe with the deadlines imposed by the rest of the world. That's when it's helpful to use the advice of Bill Callarman, an associate management professor at the University of Central Florida who teaches seminars on managing time. For starters, don't fret about how much you've got to do, said Callarman. "I've seen people spend an hour saying, 'I don't have time to get everything done.' " Begin by breaking time-squandering habits. During business phone conversations, for instance, stop going through the rigamarole of "How are you?" and "What are you up to?" said Callarman. That blows time on subjects no one cares about." Then face it you can't do it all. Drop what's unimportant, delegate what someone else could do, delay what's not pressing and do what ranks as your top priorities. Figure out ways to do two things at once. Reading in the bathroom, for instance, is what Callarman calls "productive use of downtime." The dual-duty technique is "maximum utilization of a scarce resource." Some overwhelmed and underorganized people tell Callarman they don't have time to attend his time-management seminars. The ones who do make it, he added, are almost always late.

Clipped articles people have found on this page

Get access to

  • The largest online newspaper archive
  • 21,900+ newspapers from the 1700s–2000s
  • Millions of additional pages added every month

Publisher Extra® Newspapers

  • Exclusive licensed content from premium publishers like the The Orlando Sentinel
  • Archives through last month
  • Continually updated

Try it free