Points In The News
by david finch
LBJ said nothing new when he called that portrait of himself "the ugliest thing I ever saw." We knew it already.
According to a recent UDK story "New Fraser is becoming a trash can." So the architecture was well-chosen, after all.
The Spring Fling committee is looking for ducks? Well, there's some to be found in the ASC. Trouble is, they're all lame.
"There is no one who is indispensible and no one who is permanent." And if you have any doubts about this, just ask Jack Mitchell.
Discounting rumors that he was leaving for Minnesota, Chancellor Wesco recently said,
Can't understand why 400,000 or so soldiers are needed to fight in Vietnam. The war would be finished in one season if they'd just send over the "Rat Patrol."
So the ASC has endorsed a two-week final? Should have as much effect as if the newly constituted South Vietnamese assembly was to vote to stop the war.
The people say—
To the Editor.
Saturday morning I dragged myself out of bed to get to my psych class in new Fraser only to find that the psych department has decided that all of us happy, carefree, civic-minded students will help clean up the rooms we meet in. Naturally, I searched high and low for the men I had previously thought responsible for
this job, our own, Boys in Gray. First I search high, in the trees, where they can often be found on spring mornings taking a break from their normally blinding pace of work. There they were, high upon ladders, leering at the girls and "trimming the trees." Then I searched low. I found three more of the campus custodial crew in Fraser alone, replacing cracked
LITTLE MAN ON CAMPUS
tiles on the floor of the new building. But alas, not one knew how to use a broom.
The opinions expressed in the editorial column are those of the students whose names are signed to them. Guest editorial views are not necessarily the editor's. Any opinions expressed in the Daily Kansan are not necessarily those of The University of Kansas Administration or the State Board of Regents.
The Daily Kansan, student newspaper at The University of Kansas, is representative on national advertising Service. 18 East 50 St., New York, N.Y. 10022. Mall subscription rates are based upon a class postage paid at Lawrence, Kan., every afternoon during the University week except Saturdays and Sundays. University holidays and examination periods include appointments, goods, services and employment advertised in the University Daily Kansan. Are offered to all students without regard to color, creed or national origin.
EXECUTIVE STAFF
EXECUTIVE STAMP
Managing Editor Joan McCabe
Business Manager Mep
Editorial Director Dan Austin Barb Philips
NEWS AND BUSINESS STAFF
Advertent Manager Edit
Every year I pay higher state taxes. Every year I pay higher tuition. And every year Mr. Buchholz cries and complains that he doesn't have enough money to keep the campus in proper maintenance.
Ellery Good, Steve Russell
Linda Sieffel, Robert Stevens
City Editor ... Will Hardesty
Wire Editor ... Betsy Wright
Spotlight Editors ... Alex Massey
Feature Editor ... Jacqui Campbill
Photo Editor ... Pres Doimna
Asst. City Editor ... Carol D Bans
Executive Reporters: Eric Morganhaler, Jay Faust, Jack Hanning on
Advertising Manager ... Ken Hewson
Natl Adv. Manager Howard Pankratz
Circulation Manager ... Don Hurter
Classification Manager ... Joa God r y
Mchandise Manager Steve Deinks
FACULTY ADVISERS: Business; Prof. Mel Adams; News; Malecolm Applegate;
Editorial: Prot. Calder Pickett
Perhaps if Mr. Buchholz could inspire some of his employees to work for the pay they receive, I would not have to work for the pay I do not receive. When that big Campus Administrator in the Sky hands out the final grades, the Psych Department will undoubtedly get an A for citizenship, B&G will get an F for efficiency, and the students will get the shaft as usual.
Yours.
Beverly Monasmith
Lawrence senior
To the Editor:
I would like to commend the participants and others responsible for the "Talented Unlimited" performances recently given for the soldiers stationed at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri.
The clean-cut members performed in a highly professional manner when compared to many groups who have appeared, and their fine attitudes were exemplary of the great school which they represented.
Sincerely,
Jerry L. Hammons
2LT, Armor
United States Army
KU '65
"A great show, group, and many thanks!
Graduate Foreign Students: See March Internat'l Newsletter concerning Colonial Williamsburg, Va. INTERNATIONAL ASSEMBLY.
TODAY
SUA Coffee Forum, 3:30 p.m. Dr.
Ehwa David, of Chicago,
Jawhawk Forest,
Official Bulletin
Geology Lecture, 8:00 p.m. Dr.
George W. White, U. of Illinois 426
Lecture, 4.30 p.m. Prof. Norman B.
T. Belchin, U.S.A., Forum Room, Union
& Abortions' Lecture Hall
Humanities Lecture, 8:00 p.m. Dr. Raven I. McDavid "Historical, Regional, Social Variations in Language" Swarthout Roelit Hall
Experimental Theatre, 8:20 p.m. "An Evening with Dylan Thomas."
Ph.D. Final Exam, 9:00 a.m. Melvin Painter, psychology, 423 Fraser Hall. Classical Film, 7 & 9 p.m. "Hall the Conqueror, Hero," Durga, Aud.
Senior Recital. 8:30 p.m. David
Cirk, trumpet. Swampt. Recital
Hall
Lecture, 8:00 p.m. Dr. Harry F. Hollin, U. of Florida, "Research in Underwater Speech Communication." Forum Room, Union
Experimental Theatre, 8:20 p.m. "An Evening with Dylan Thomas."
"Tell Your Fortune, Mister?"
2
Daily Kansas
Tuesday, March 28. 1967
Count Basie a man and a piano
by Glen Phillips
I saw a man in love Saturday night.
Not strange you say—it happens every day, here at KU and everywhere. But it was different then—very different. For this man has one of the most private and yet most public love affairs in existence. The man—Bill Basie—The Count; the object of his love—a scarred Steinway on the stage at Hoch.
Oh it wasn't the sordid love affair described so often—it was different—truly touching, truly tender and wholly sincere. They were strangers I'm sure—but they were meant for one another, and it showed from the first.
I WAS THERE—a biased observer admittedly. My official task was to photograph the setting-up for the concert. My unofficial job was to realize a long-standing dream—to meet THE COUNT! I was sure the photography would suffer.
What I saw was strange. I saw an old man—in his 60's—weary from a five-hour bus trip from St. Louis and seven weeks on the road. He seemed lonely and detached-Band members took care of their instruments—B and G men helped unload the band's paraphenalia—but he walked silently—through the ruckus to the depressing little dressing room with the tattered star on the door. He asked for a towel, and a cup of coffee. A moment later he sought the phone and made a quick call to New York. Then this tired, slumped man went back to sit down and rest.
But the rest could wait—he felt the call of his love. Out of the dressing room, a quick pause at the water fountain and out onto the stage—the stage far from deserted. Now crowded with band members, B&G workmen and others, all engaged in the busy business of setting up a concert.
ALONE IN THAT CROWD he saw her. At his request, the top was removed—and Count Basie met his love—the piano—as if for the first time, but surely for the millionth. The tiredness faded as he settled onto the bench and placed himself. And for those who watched—and listened—the love bloomed more fully and richly than it ever does before the footlights.
He played—not the tentative, punctuation-like style most of us know—but a simple full piano style. His hands moved over the keys with the ease born of 50 years practice. There was a gentleness and sensitivity you don't see in a concert. There were only the two—the Count and the piano.
The camera was forgotten. Three girl ushers at the rear of the hail moved up to catch the easy tones. A music teacher who traveled from Oklahoma for the concert settled in the second row. It wasn't enough to stop the workers for the shuffling and grating continued. But the interested listened—and silently cheered—"Shadow of Your Smile," "Sweet Lorraine" and on and on.
IN ALL TOO SHORT a time, ruthless schedules forced me to leave. The others stayed on. The Count played on—oblivicus to the world—with his love.
And, with less than an hour remaining before the concert started, I left. Back soon for the concert, I couldn't have missed much—but if I hadn't heard another note, I would have been satisfied. You see, I had seen a man in love that night—and I understood then what made him great.