lecture 5 Model Cause

lecture 5 Model Cause Lecture 5 Cause and Effect Model One: The Joys of an Old Car Some of my friends can’t believe that my car still runs. Others laugh when they see it parked outside the house and ask if it’s an antique. But they aren’t being fair to my twenty-year-old Toyota Corolla. In fact, my “antique” has opened my eyes to the rewards of owning an old car. One obvious reward of owning my old Toyota is economy. Twenty years ago, when my husband and I were newly married and nearly broke, we bought the car—a shiny red year-old leftover—for a mere ,4,200. Today it would cost four times as much. We save money on insurance, since it’s no longer worthwhile for us to have collision coverage. Old age has even been kind to the Toyota’s engine, which has required only three major repairs in the last several years. And it still delivers twenty-eight miles per gallon in the city and forty-one on the highway—not bad for a senior citizen. I’ve heard that when a Toyota passes the twenty-thousand-mile mark with no problems, it will probably go on forever. I wouldn’t disagree. Our Toyota breezed past that mark many years ago. Since then, I’ve been able to count on it to sputter to life and make its way down the driveway on the coldest, snowiest mornings. When my boss got stuck with his brand-new BMW in the worst snowstorm of the year, I sauntered into work on time. The single time my Toyota didn’t start, unfortunately, was the day I had a final exam. The Toyota may have the body of an old car, but beneath its elderly hood hums the engine of the teenager. Last of all, having the same car for many years offers the advantage of familiarity. When I open the door and slide into the driver’s seat, the soft vinyl surrounds me like a well-worn glove. I know to the millimeter exactly how much room I have when I turn a corner or back into a curbside parking space. When my gas gauge points to “empty,” I know that 1.3 gallons are still in reserve, and I can plan accordingly. The front wheels invariably begin to shake when I go more than fifty-five miles an hour, reminding me that I am exceeding the speed limit. With the Toyota, the only surprises I face come from other drivers. I prize my twenty-year-old Toyota’s economy and dependability, and most of all, its familiarity. It is faded, predictable, and comfortable, like a well-worn pair of jeans. And, like a well-worn pair of jeans, it will be difficult to throw away. Model Two: Stresses of Being a Celebrity A woman signing herself “Wants the Truth in Westport” wrote to Ann Landers with a question she just had to have answered. “Please find out fro sure,” she begged the columnist, “whether or not Oprah Winfrey has had a face-lift.” Fortunately for Ms. Winfrey’s privacy, Ann Landers refused to answer the question. But the incident was disturbing. How awful it would be to be a celebrity, always in the public eye. Celebrities lead very stressful lives, for no matter how glamorous or powerful they are, the have too little privacy, too much pressure, and no safety. For one thing, celebrities don’t have the privacy an ordinary person has. The most personal details of their lives are splashed all over the front pages of the National Enquirer and the Globe so that bored supermarket shoppers can read about “Leonardo DiCaprio’s Awful Secret” or “The Heartbreak Behind Winona Ryder’s smile.” Even a celebrity’s family is hauled into the spotlight. A teenage son’s arrest for pot possession or a wife’s drinking problem becomes the subject of glaring headlines. Photographers hound celebrities at their homes, in restaurants, and on the street, hoping to get a picture of Halle Berry in curlers or Jim Carrey guzzling a beer. When celebrities try to do the things that normal people do, like eat out or attend a football game, they run the risk of being interrupted by thoughtless autograph hounds or mobbed by aggressive fans. In addition to the loss of privacy, celebrities must cope with the constant pressure of having to look great and act right. Their physical appearance is always under observation. Famous women, especially, suffer from the spotlight, drawing remarks like “She really looks old” or “Boy, has she put on weight.” Unflattering pictures of celebrities are photographers’ prizes to be sold to the highest bidder; this increases the pressure on celebrities to look good at all times. Famous people are also under pressure to act calm and collected under any circumstances. Because they are constantly observed, they have no freedom to blow off steam or to do something just a little crazy. Most important, celebrities must deal with the stress of being in constant danger. The friendly grabs, hugs, and kisses of enthusiastic fans can quickly turn into uncontrolled assaults on a celebrity’s hair, clothes, and car. Most people agree that photographers bear some responsibility for the death of one of the leading celebrities of the 1990s – Princess Diana. Whether or not their pursuit caused the crash that took her life, it’s clear she was chased as aggressively as any escaped convict by bloodhounds. And celebrity can even lead to deliberately lethal attacks. The attempt to kill Ronald Reagan and the murder of John Lennon came about because two unbalanced people became obsessed with these world-famous figures. Famous people must live with the fact that they are always fair game – and never out of season. Some people dream of starring roles, their name in lights, and their picture on the cover of People magazine. But the cost is far too high. A famous person gives up private life, feels pressured to look and act certain ways all the time, and is never completely safe. An ordinary, calm life is far safer and saner than a life of fame.