December 6, 1999

WHEN we in the news media complain about government secrecy, we get the general impression that the public is less than empathetic. It's more a ''there, there'' reaction -- placating parent to foot-stomping child. The curious case of Stephen J. Powers provides a good example of why we need to get as much information from government as we can.

Ben Heppner and Jane Eaglen, the new dynamic duo of Wagner opera, are spending a lot time together these days. They are currently singing the daunting title roles in the Metropolitan Opera's new production of Wagner's ''Tristan und Isolde,'' conducted by James Levine. Tonight will be No. 5 in the run of eight sold-out performances, which ends on Dec. 18. Before the production was introduced there were weeks of intensive rehearsals. The stamina required to perform this touchstone opera, which, with intermissions, lasts more than five hours, is superhuman. It is not altogether surprising that there has already been one hitch: Ms. Eaglen, who was ill, withdrew from Friday night's performance. (Making her Met debut, the soprano Sue Patchell stepped in.) Ms. Eaglen has reportedly recovered and is planning to sing tonight.

New Hampshire's airwaves crackle with give-and-take of presidential campaign advertising; spots project audible warmth instead of political broadsides, suggesting that race for nominations is not so much rough-and-tumble sweepstakes as contest to see who can hug hardest; ads by frontrunners in both parties are generically folksy and upbeat--projecting warmth and fuzziness rather than being negative (M)

Public school districts nationwide are teaming up with prosecutors to fight truancy, threatening jail time and fines for parents of children who chronically skip school; move is latest step in nation's march to hold students to higher educational standards and to hold parents to higher standards of accountability; aggressive methods being pursued in Detroit and elsewhere discussed; 63,000 of 180,000 public school students in Detroit missed more than month's worth of classes in 1998; parents of 67 worst offenders face jail time if they cannot get children to attend school; photos (L)

Going all the way back to the golden days of radio, the situation comedy, marked by joke-a-minute writing and zany characters, has been the reliably pumping heart of broadcasting entertainment and American popular culture. But that heart is suddenly palpitating; the television sitcom is gasping, wheezing and badly in need of a breath of fresh air.