Mnch 3, 1971
A FUNNY THING HAPPENED
ON THE WAY TO YOUR OFFICE
by Lee Nell
The characters mentioned
in the following article are
fictitious, and any
resemblance to real
persons living or dead is
almost purely
coincidental.
I tried to see a teacher the
other day. As a matter of fact, I
tried to see several teachers—but
to no avail. It was a frustrating
experience and...well, this is how
it happened.
1 was in the hall on my way
to see Professor Smythe, when I
passed Dr. Zimbana with whom
I also wanted to chat. However,
knowing that Prof. Smythe was
hard to catch, I spent only a few
moments in idle chatter with Dr.
Zimbana. I noticed a slight
urgency in his voice, but didn’t
think much about it, and
continued on my way.
Rushing by the lovely
secretary I said, Professor
Smythe?” I was nearly in his
office when her voice caught me,
“He’s not in yet.”
“Oh, when do you expect
him?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“What’s today?”
Being a time-conscious
student, I answered,
“Thursday.” Actually it was
Tuesday.
POTPOURRI
by Missy and Luann
The winner of the Ski Club
raffle was Ralph Weinstein from
Nelson Drive, Meade Heights.
Better buy those raffle tickets,
the prizes are great.
If you can’t elope—will your
honey do?
What is a honey moon salad?
Answer—Let Us Alone.
Math question for engineers.
Is 1 and 1=69?
Who is Gerard Slagle?
We would like to congratulate
Betsy and Roger on their
upcoming wedding this August.
Remember those first dozen of
red roses Betsy?
Moving right along.
Does anybody really know
what time it it? When you’re in
the ad building you don’t—The
Clocks Are All Wrong.
What do you call a small
British mother? Answer—A mini
mum.
Come to the Talent Show
tonight. The same amazing
performers will be there. Don’t
miss out this time. Be at the
auditorium early.
Who lifted Coleman Herpel’s
golden pine ash tray from the
conference room?
The girls’ sorority has a secret
mascot. He, she or it will be at
the party Sunday night at 823 A
Nelson Drive. It starts at 8:30.
All girls are invited to attend and
join the sorority. Some of the
frat boys are coming. We hope
you’ll be there, too.
Who is Francey?
Did anybody ever find the
missing water bottle?
Show me Dr. Patterson not
having a third period, and I’ll
show you a teacher with no
class.
Can you guess whose number
this is? 1-202-456-1414-
Richard Milhous Nixon?
What do you call a baby
beech tree? Answer—A son of a
beech.
I, Luann Berulis, would like
to express a little wish. Sung to
the tune of “Happy Birthday”.
Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday to you. Happy
Birthday dear Missy, John,
Karen, Rosemary and Jim.
Happy Birthday to you.
This column is presented to
you by one Dilly and one Dally.
“Oh,” she explained, “on
Thursday Dr. Smythe has the
flu.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, realizing
my mistake, “it’s really
Tuesday.”
Nothing.
“Well?” I queried.
“Well, what?”
“Well, today is Tuesday.
When will Professor Smythe be
in today?”
“I told you, he has the flu on
Thursday.”
“Right. But today is
Tuesday.”
“I know.”
Seeing that the conversation
obviously was over, I said,
“Thank you,” and left. Hell,
she’s got enough trouble without
me adding to it. Besides, perhaps
I could still catch Dr. Zimbana
in the hall.
Luckily he had just finished
talking with another student and
was only a few yards from where
I first spotted him. “Dr.
Zimbana,” I called out.
He ducked into a nearby
classroom. Approaching the
door, I noticed that the room
was empty. When I peered
inside, I. saw Dr. Zimbana
crouching in the last desk in the
corner.
“Sir?”
“Who, me?” he said, looking
“Yes, may I interrupt?”
“Well, uh, yes, Lee, uh, come
in. Oh, would you mind closing
the door.”
“Sure,” I said, closing the
door. “How have you been?”
“Fine, fine, uh, what have
you been doing?”
“Remember,” I remembered
excitedly, “that project we were
talking about last week? Well
I’ve done some more research on
it, and it looks like I’ll be able to
do it after all. Isn’t that great!”
“That’s nice, Lee, but could
you keep your voice down,
please.”
“I’m sorry, sir. Is something
wrong?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
Shaken, I asked, “Is it
something I said?”
“No, Lee, and I guess it won’t
hurt to tell you. You know I’ve
had several student friends here
and have spoken to them
frequently.”
“Yes. I’ve always enjoyed our
talks.”
“Thank you. But now with
the Miss O’Flaugherty problem,
we faculty have got to be careful
about being seen with students.
We never know when we’ll be
reminded that we’re here to
teach students—not to talk with
them.”
“But really, sir, there aren’t
many profs who can be found in
their offices anyway.”
“Yes, I know. That’s why I’ve
tried to see students as often as
possible. Most teachers would
like to see students, but what
with curriculum planning,
Planning Board, Faculty Senate
and many more organizations,
they don’t have time.”
“But the students need...”
“And with Miss O’Flaugherty
almost getting dismissed, some
of us are afraid we’ll be next. So,
if you’d not mention that I
talked to you, I’d appreciate it.”
“You can count on me, sir.”
“Thank you.”
I left even more shaken,
hoping that the students would
realize the problems they’re
causing by trying to talk with
teachers. But I still had to see
someone since I had forgotten to
mention my problem to Dr.
Zimbana. I though perhaps I
could see Dr. Paturzo. Since he
usually could be found in his
office, I headed that way.
THE CAPITOLIST
“Hello,” I greeted still
another lovely secretary, “is Dr.
Paturzo in?”
“Yes, he is, but it’s lunch
hour.”
“What?”
“It’s lunch hour,” she
repeated.
“No, thank you.”
“But you don’t understand.
Dr. Paturzo never sees anyone
on his lunch hour. See him after
class.”
“But everyone wants to see
him after class.”
“Yes, he’s very popular.”
“Look,” I said, dismayed,
“can I get an appointment next
week?”
“I doubt it, but I’ll check.”
While thumbing through the
roster, she mumbled things like
PTA, and Ping Pong
Tournament, and assorted
conferences. “Oh, here’s
something. You can see him on
November 17th.”
Horrified, I cried, “But that’s
too late. I can’t wait that long.”
“Well, if one of the new
freshmen gives up his
appointment, maybe I can get
you in in September or
October.”
By now I was suspicious.
“Does Miss O’Flaugherty have
anything to do with this?”
“Who?”
“Never mind.” I needed some
refreshment at this point and,
besides, Drs. McFreke and Meyer
were usually available for talking
in Venderville.
When I approached the doors,
the din of voices and chairs
scraping the floor reached my
ears. As I jumped quickly to one
side, a hoard of students
carrying the two professors
rushed past and dropped Dr.
Meyer in their haste. He was
badly bruised and scratched, and
all of his clothes, except for one
sock and the remnants of a shirt
sleeve, had been torn off.
While Dr. McFreke and the
throng were disappearing in a
cloud of dust, I knelt beside Dr.
Meyer. Grabbing my arm, he
gasped, “The students—choke
are starved for attention—cough,
cough—God help us.” He passed
out as I called the ambulance.
I knew that most of the
remainder of the faculty would
be in meetings or conferences or
ping-pong tournaments, and I
was getting desperate. As a last
resort, I went down to the Old
Stone Inn. There were a few
men sitting at the bar in their
mid-afternoon state of
semi-consciousness. Pulling up
beside one of them after
ordering a beer, I said, “You
know, I’m really having trouble
fitting together the origins of the
rise of the Third Reich and the
philosophical base of the
romantic writers.”
“Son,” he said from under his
foamy lip, “things can’t be that
bad. Now back when I was a
b0v...”
NOW
HEAR THIS!
Statement overheard upstairs
in a classroom:
“Who picked Karen Johnson
for the Glamour Magazine
contest?”
Answer-Probably Twyla
Brown.
Now comes the revolution
and reply of Twyla Brown:
“Let me make this perfectly
clear...!!!!!
“Twyla Brown does not
consider herself a connoisseur of
beauty, talent, attire, etc. Please
remember one thing...although I
am none of the above...if I had
the authority to choose...l
would have picked Twyla
Brown!!!!!”
OPEN HOUSE EVERY SUNDAY
COMMUNICATION—Lots of people talking about lots of things.
Some of the people in the rap session are: Doe, John, Ken, Nancy,
Patsy, Paul, Lucille, Michael, Jerry, Ro, Lynn, and Barry.
DR. ED RACEY—Takes a break from being host and talks with Billy
Aspinal.
Analysis:
"The TurnedOn Crisis”
by Tom Hagan
“Why Can’t You Hear
Through The Noise In Your
Ear?” was the seventh of the
series, shown on Monday, the
22nd. By means of performances
of “message” songs by various
groups, a youth discussion panel,
and commentators, an attempt
was made to make older viewers
realize the importance of
contemporary music. It was
suggested by one singer that
in the sixties lyrics were
primarily statements of the
problems within society,
whereas now there is some
attempt to give some answers.
Edwin Newman, one of the
commentators, expressed the
sympathetic belief that Youth’s
hope is not unfounded. Another
analyst, Dr. Joyce Brothers,
rightfully pointed out that there
is conformity to style even in
the Freedom Demanding
Generation.
The most notable error of the
evening involved the discussion
by a group of high school
students. Although one girl said
there are “millions of reasons”
why drugs are used, varying with
each individual, no other specific
reason was suggested except for
the lack of preoccupation with
materialism. This again showed
White America’s tendency to call
a situation a problem only after
it has spread from
TRISSLER
"All kinds of beer and soda”
**«*■ Chips!
108 Wilson St. Middletown Pa
the Racey’s
907 Weaver Avenue
Meade Heights
predominantly Black
communities.
The latter tendency was one
of the first points to be made in
the final program, “High Is Not
Very Far Off The Ground.”
Important also, was the stress on
the existance of various kinds of
drugs and their effects, another
lack in most of the previous
shows. The final program was no
less than excellent. After twenty
minutes from a televised Town
Meeting, the format was moved
to a debate by experts on the
effects, morality, and legality of
marjuana. It didn’t take long
before all of the misnomers on
grass were shot down. The
danger of physical effects were
proven to be non-existent. It
soon became apparent that the
use of marjuana was boiled
down to a moral issue. In many
cases, it was noted, people
oppose the legalization of grass
because it is a symbol of a new
life style which they fear or
don’t understand.
Overall, the series was a step
in the right direction. I discussed
many of the times which I
thought errors had been made.
But there were certainly many
excellent facts presented as well.
The originators of the program
are to be commended for sincere
attempt to present objective
facts regarding the present drug
situation.
Rage 3