10 - The Michigan Daily - Wednesday, September 4, 1996 NATION/WIORLD Anti-drug message uses reverse pitch I Los Angeles Times It's a fresh new feeling, the coolest high. So pick up some heroin - and shoot for the sky! Everybody's doin' it, doin' it. Everybody's doin' it. Glamorous parties, a night on the town. With beautiful people, it's always around! Everybody's doin' it, doin' it. Her-o-in! For the rest of your life! - Television jingle for black-and-white footage of a grimy boy twitching and retching into afilthy toilet. NEW YORK -- On Madison Avenue, it is still revered as one of the hottest marketing ideas of all time. Take the decision to buy and use heroin (or pot, or coke or any illegal drug) and treat it like any other pur- chasing choice. Liken potential addicts to a group of consumers whose buying habits can be manipulated by celebrity endorsements, catchy slogans and powerful images. Then use those tricks not to sell the product, but to un-sell it. If the approach works, drugs will finally lose their cool. It's a very big "if." But for more than a decade, the Partnership for a Drug- Free America's pro bono campaign to get and keep American young people off drugs has been betting as much as $1 million worth of advertising every day that it does work. Since 1985, more than 250 big-name ad agencies from Los Angeles, New York, Chicago and other cities have been enlisted to volunteer their time and talent to create new and better ways of helping people say no to drugs. Thanks to the Partnership's high- powered connections and unabashed arm-twisting, TV networks, newspa- pers,; magazines and other media out- lets have donated more than $2 billion in free space and time to ensure that the messages are seen. The newest campaign is against hero- in. This time its creators are finding their ads against the drug a hard sell. "These ads are not pretty. They are not nice. They are not polite," says Doria Steedman, the Partnership's director of creative development. She concedes that the ads were designed to disturb and upset. The campaign to show 18- to 25- year-olds the horrors of heroin has been pitched by the Partnership as a neces- sary pre-emptive strike. According to the U.S. government, experimentation with heroin is increasing among teens and young adults. "We have to make the case that hero- in is a fundamental threat," says retired Gen. Barry McCaffrey, director of the Office of National Drug Control Policy. He has endorsed the Partnership's work and been a spokesman at Partnership news conferences. The Partnership has dozens of new ads. The problem is getting them seen. Although newspapers such as the New York Times and the Washington Post have given full pages to the campaign as often as once a week, few other papers have been so generous. And while Capital Cities/ABC Inc. televi- sion and many big city stations have given the Partnership prime-time adver- tising spots, some of the most dramatic anti-heroin messages seem to be getting lost in busy daily schedules. And, although contracts to spread the Partnership's message are still much sought after among creative types, in- kind gifts of advertising talent, ad preparation, and print space and air times are down at least $100 million since 1991 when the nonprofit group's annual support peaked at $365 million. It didn't take long for the Partnership to discover that the decision to experi- ment with drugs was based on two things: the consumer's perception of the risk involved and the perception of social disapproval. Turned upside down AP PHOTO Firefighter Andy Lennette of the U.S. Forest Service's Santa Lucia crew 3 out of San Luis Obispo, Calif., shakes dust and bugs out of his tent yesterday morning prior to leaving Castaic, Calif., after spending five days fighting forest fires. Gathering turns town into Har ey-Davidson heaven Study sees low- wage job growthi The Washington Post WASHINGTON - At a time when national statistics show both employ- ment and incomes are rising, the vast majority of American workers are experiencing a continuing erosion in their paychecks. So concludes "The State of Working America;" the latest report on the con- dition of the nation's work force by the Economic Policy Institute. "The economy is clearly in tr'ansi- tion, but it is far from certain that it is headed to a better place. The funda- mental economic problem we face is to generate adequate income growth for the majority based on jobs paying high hourly wages and benefits. Government policy-makers and elected leaders must be judged on their ability to change the economic course of the country, to leave the low-wage for the high-wage path," the report concludes. At a time when economists and gov- ernment policy-makers are debating whether the United States should follow a high-wage or low-wage growth path to keep the nation competitive with its global trading partners, the authors sug- gest the United States has already start- ed down the low-wage path. "Although employment and national incomes are growing and unemploy- ment is falling, the incomes of the vast majority have not yet returned to their pre-recession, 1989 level," the report said. "And if the current expansion should end within the next two years or so, it is unlikely that family incomes will be higher at the end of this busi- ness cycle than at the beginning." The report by the liberal think tank is the latest in a growing debate over the impact of economic policy on the con- dition of the American worker. "There's obviously a tension between organized labor's message that America needs a raise and (President) Clinton's message that we've turned the corner," said Lawrence Mishel, EPI research director and co-author of the report with Jared Bernstein and John Schmitt. Mishel said their report shows@ that macroeconomic growth is simply not enough to lift wages and maintain the standards of living for millions of workers under current policies. "Our review of (economic) indica- tors suggests that the changes in the economy have been "all pain, no gain,' that the factors causing the pain of greater dislocation, economic vulnera- bility, and falling wages do not seem to be making a better economy or gener- ating a "payoff' that could potentially be redistributed to help the losers. Rather, there seems to be a large-scale redistribution of power, wealth and income that has failed to lead or be associated with improved economic efficiency, capital accumulation or competitiveness,' the report said. The authors acknowledge there is not a single cause for what they see as the recent growth in wage inequality* and the deterioration of the incomes of non-college-educated wage earners. They cite a number of factors, from the drop in the value of the minimum wage and the "deunionization" of the work force to the expansion of the service sector and the globalization of the nation's economy. "All of these factors have a common characteristic: They reflect general deregulatory, laissez-faire shiftsin thc* economy and forces that have weakened the bargaining power of workers, both union and non-union and both blue col- lar and white collar," the report said. The authors argue that the high unem- ployment in the early 1990s, coupled with the high unemployment among non-college-educated workers since 1979, helped accelerate the downward pressure on wages, helping to make pos- sible "radical shifts in the wage struce ture." Los Angeles Times STURGIS, S.D. -- Blue haze rises over town. Day and night, Main Street trembles with a deep and lumpy rumble. Motorcycles by the tens of thousands choke every thoroughfare, alley and footpath. They snort, spit and snarl. They park at angles from the curb. Men and women dismount. They wear denim, leather, chains and tattoos. Some are pierced. They have diamond studs in their ears. They parade. They admire each other's machines: a blinding assembly of beasts, mostly Harley-Davidsons, shaved, injected, chopped, raked, flaked, airbrushed, molded, chromed, pow- dered, baked, detailed and polished, each to a personal taste. They prance. They admire each other's women: a remarkable collection of braided, ringed, laced and body- webbed beauties in halters and hot pants and boots. They admire each other's men: a knife-packing throng of bare-chested, bandannaed, gloved and hobnailed road warriors in vests and jackets and chaps. They party. They eat venison, buffa- lo, mutton, beef, turkey and chicken, smothered with onions, sizzling on open grills. They drink Budweiser, Miller, Jack Daniel's and Jim Beam, straight or cooling on ice. They smoke Marlboros, Camels and sometimes a lit- tle mind-blowing Devil weed. They groove to Steppenwolf. They strip. They dance. They fight. Each summer, during the first full week of August, they ride, more than 200,000 strong, into this Black Hills community of 6,000, where the usual high excitement is a threshing bee. For seven days, the town hosts a motorcycle run called the Black Hills Motor Classic/Sturgis Rally and Races. Everything else stops while Sturgis, a village of ranchers and farmers and gold miners, turns into Harley heaven. And Harley hell. Every year, a fair number of the townspeople simply leave. They do not return until the week is over. The spectacle and the disruption are more than they can stand. So is the debauchery. There is usually not much danger, but sometimes things grow a little tense. The jail fills. At times it overflows, into the lockup at Rapid City, 27 miles away. Now and then peo- ple get hurt, even killed. Mostly, however, this is nothing more than a blowout, one of America's biggest: a good thing for this immense crowd of bikers, who save all year to come; and for South Dakota, which ranks it as the state's biggest tourist event, without exception; and even for Sturgis, where all these bikers spend millions of dollars in only seven days year after year. Each year, though, there comes another uptick in a subtle change. The Black Hills Classic is no longer an all- out rampage - "Genghis Khan on an iron horse. ...," as Hunter S. Thompson put it, in "Hells Angels," his book about some of the toughest of the bikers. This orgy is being hijacked. The cul- prits are not even the town police, or the county sheriff's office, or the state Highway Patrol, or the FBI and the Drug Enforcement Administration and the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, all of which do, indeed, send in their agents by the score, and always on the sly. The hijackers are RUBs - rich urlan bikers - with their Honda Aspencades, who are coming to Sturgis in ever-growing numbers, trying to flee their safe but far less interesting lives, which, of course, is impossible. So they bring their lives with them. Dammit, Snake! Could it possibly be? Is this run getting respectable? It is not just any blue haze over town; it smells of exhaust fumes and leather and sweat and burning rubber and hot oil and cold beer and barbecue.' On Main street, the show never stops. The bikes roll up and down the entire length of four full blocks through the heart of Sturgis, where during this week cars -- cages - are banned. Peg to peg, the bikes are parked at 45 degrees along both curbs and in two long columns in the middle of the boulevard, on both sides of the yellow line, leaving passage for an unending procession, up the street one way, around a tight turn, back down the other way, around another tight turn, and then back up again, until a new bike cranks up and joins the parade and opens up a parking place. Then a Harley covered with a buffalo hide. Still another Harley, blasting a horn from a diesel locomotive. A biker is dressed as Santa Claus. In back is Mrs. Claus, ringing a bell. Then anoth- er biker, this one wearing a pig's head and smoking a cigar. Still another, with both of his nipples and his navel pierced, and gold rings in all three. Then a Labrador retriever riding sissy, wearing goggles and a leather helmet. Then a biker leading his ol' lady on a leash. Another biker, with his ol' lady behind him, naked but for a tiny leather halter and a G-string. And another ol' lady, this one wearing bottomless chaps. Bikers, tourists and narcs line up four deep along both sidewalks, watching the procession and eyeing each other. Among the few establish- ments still open for business are three saloons and the World Famous Road Kill Cafe, where no one asks to see the wine list. 3a~ "wIn :a filPAJUAD[HlUUI 4 PSYCHOLOGY GRE SUBJECT TEST ......... .. ...... .. . M, :' 1 Ii