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New tradition
Graduation 1969 may be tense in some universities across the United States. It's hardly likely that embittered and embattled colleges such as San Francisco State will wave good-bye to their alma mater without throwing a few last stones.
In comparison the proposals offered to the graduates of 1969 at KU seem healthy and prospectively beneficial.
This week, seniors are supposed to vote on three areas of proposals that might change slightly the traditional face of commencement ceremonies.
If they choose, seniors can decide not to wear caps and gowns but instead donate the four dollar rental fee to a Scholarship Fund for Financially Disadvantaged Students. Or they can vote to wear the traditional garb but add a dollar to the fee to be given to the scholarship fund.
The fund is included in the list of suggestions for a $1,000 gift to the University and also in a proposal that seniors forego the spring party and instead give approximately another $1,500 to the fund.
All seniors are naturally not going to have the same views on donating a scholarship fund. Nor will all who do want to establish such a fund want to sacrafice the cap and gown money, senior gift fund, and party expenses all for the sake of the fund.
But with enough support in one or two of the areas,the class of 1969 could establish a substantial amount of money for the fund.
And in a university world screaming for relevance, a scholarship fund that would give educational opportunities to those who can't financially make it on their own seems much more relevant to be remembered by than a brick wall engraved with Class of 19-.
This year's graduates have a chance to give a living memorial and start a new tradition of service to education. (AMS)
Roaches or rent
"I can't take it anymore," Fred said, vehemently pulling his finger out of the leaky gas outlet in the small. third-floor apartment.
Bv MIKE SHEARER
He walked over to the kitchen where he sat on the closed toilet seat and threw his feet into the matressless bed.
"I'm going to do something about this place this time," he told his roommate Sam who was busy feeding the brown mice which were scurrying throughout the apartment.
"Ssssshhhh!" warned Sam, glancing at the little rodents to make sure they hadn't heard Fred's vow. "You know last time one of the mice moved out, Dr. Gnil raised the rent. 'You gonna live in rat-free apartment, you gonna pay rat-free prices,' he said."
"Dr. Gnil! Dr. Gnil!" exclaimed Fred, jumping up and walking to the sink to splatter his reddening face with rusty, cold water from the hot water spout. "I'm not afraid of Dr. Gnil anymore, Sam. No more."
Sam thought he detected a glint of knowledge, a plan of escape in Fred's fiery eyes. He threw the last crumbs to the mice and strolled over to the gas outlet to take up Fred's position.
Sticking his finger in the outlet while the hiss of gas subsided, Sam said, "You know, don't you, Fred, that you and I have been friends for a long time. We've been through leaky roofs and backed-up sewers together, you and I."
"Yes, yes! I know all that, Sam. I know we brought up four seasons of flies from innocent maggot-hood, and many's the time we nursed a sick roach so Dr. Gnil wouldn't charge us roach-free prices for a roach-free apartment. Don't bring all that up, Sam. Don't torture me."
"You've found a way out? A single room somewhere in a house not owned by Gnil! That's it, isn't it? I knew you'd been looking for another place ever since I heard you use that word the other day . . ."
"Ventilation," said Fred.
"Yes, that's the word. Ven-till-a-shun. That's not a word you picked up around here. You're going to leave me alone, and with a
'Escalation? Goodness, no! Actually I'm heading in the opposite direction.'
sck cricket to keep alive," guessed Sam.
"All right, I admit it," said Fred glancing down at the convalescing cricket who was lying in a cottage cheese container with a thermometer lying nearby. "There IS a house in town not owned by Gnil. I found it while you were on gas outlet duty. There is a single room in this house and the guy who has it now is moving at the end of the month."
"I'm hurt," said Sam, using his free hand to crumble an aspirin for the cricket. "But I won't stand in your way. I know it wasn't my company that drove you away. It was this place and the constant threat of having to pay cricket-free prices for a cricket-free apartment."
Sam looked toward the gleam of bright sunlight which was streaming through the crack in the wall.
"No," he said, more to himself and to posterity than to Fred, "I'd not stand in any man's way if he
had a chance to sleep in a warm room near a fire escape without having to pay Dr-Gnil-free prices."
At that moment, Fred wanted to slug Sam on the shoulder and tell him to buck up, but he remembered the arthritis Sam had developed in his shoulder from sleeping under a dripping pipe.
承承承
Several blocks away in the same city, Dr. Gnil stood in front of a modest apartment house gazing at a notebook. His puzzled expression turned toward the house and then back at his book.
"Is this possible?" he asked himself, scratching his perplexed head with the large stone of one of the rings on his left hand. "I own that house over there, and that one there ... but I don't own this house."
He made a note in his book to contact the landlord of the stray house.
Readers' write
To the Editor:
I would like to clear up a few points for J. A. Serbner in answer to his reply to my letter which appeared a couple of months ago. First, I was using the term "New Left" to apply to that segment of SDS and similar organizations whose avowed purpose is to destroy the society rather than try to make it what it was meant to be, and I did not mean it to apply to the majority of the SDS or any other group.
Secondly, he mentions my statement about replacing white racism with black racism, or any other kind of racism for that matter. Stokely Carmichael is a black racist as surely as George Wallace is a white racist. I'm tired of people who take for granted that all whites are racists, because I can say I am not, and with a clean conscience too.
Third, I did not mean to imply that the Chicago police were not at fault; I meant that there were outside influences, particularly from the crowd, just as there was outside influence, from cops and others, in the Negro riots in Watts and other places.
Fifth, I would kill someone to protect anyone's life and property if I felt that the attacker was trying to kill for the sake of killing; by the term 'my friends,' I also meant the Vietnamese people, some of whom were very good friends.
I would like Mr. Serbner to know that I am opposed to violence for selfish reasons, which most riots, police or otherwise, are. I am opposed to holier-than-thou attitudes. I am opposed to racism, black, white or otherwise. I am concerned for PEOPLE, all people, people in general and each person in particular. I am for peace, but a sensible peace, a real peace. I am against everything which seeks to destroy what this country was meant to be. I am in favor of making this country the hope of all mankind. I am in favor of living a good, Christian life, for without it, the human is taken out of humanism. You see, there is only one four-letter word which really means anything to me: LOVE. If everybody had much more of this, there would be no problems in the world today. Unfortunately, that is not the situation. So, Mr. Serbner, let us go out and love mankind. Maybe some of it will rub off.
Harold Smith El Dorado senior
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