Laugh a little
Happiness, mayonnaise and rubbing statues
This semester I had the opportu
nity to experience a great feeling,
and for once it didn’t involve
rubbing myself against statues.
I should have been in my
chemistry lab, but for some reason I
thought it would be in my best
interest to roam the halls of the
chemistry building instead.
It was a good thing I skipped
too, otherwise I may have never
noticed the guy reading my column.
Just having this guy read my
column wasn’t what made me feel
so good, as I’m sure there are at
least three other people who have
taken that chance.
What got to me was that he was
laughing. Out loud. At either
something I had written or my
photograph. Either way, he had no
idea how good that made me feel.
The world needs laughter; there’s
not nearly enough of it to go
around.
“But Steve,” you.say. “Haven’t
we still got Don Rickies?”
Even with Mr. Rickies, the world
needs more.
For me, attempting to make
people laugh is an obsession. It’s
not easy to do in person, but it’s
even harder to do on paper or with
your clothes on.
On paper, you can’t watch the
facial expressions of your audience
like you can with face-to-face
contact; therefore it’s crucial that
the perfect words are chosen.
There’s really only one reason
for humor. For that one moment,
when your face succumbs to a
smile, your happiness is all that
matters. No one else’s. That’s not
commonplace anymore.
I’ve always envied people like
former columnist Jamie Karl. I
don’t think the Lord intended me to
be so opinionated. If I feel like I’m
going to write or say something that
Steve Willey
“For me, attempting to
make people laugh is a n
obsession. It’s not easy to
do in person, but it’s
even harder to do on
paper or with your
clothes on. ”
may upset someone, I’ll usually
keep it to myself. That’s not always
good, I know.
Even if you don’t particularly
agree with their views, you’ve got
to respect that kind of columnist.
Although I may be loosing respect,
I could never be a practicer of
Karlism (the study of pissing off
three-fifths of a university in 300
words or less). It’s just not in me.
Since this is my semester’s final
article, I would like to take the
opportunity to respond to the two
letters I’ve received throughout the
semester.
The most prevalent question I’ve
been asked is the one concerning
whether or not my father is as odd
and idiotic as I would have people
believe.
The easy answer of course,
would be: “Certainly not! No man
could be as fruity as I make my
father out to be.”
But giving an answer like that
would go against everything I’ve
ever learned in my women’s studies
classes.
My father, and yes, all males, are
odd and idiotic. And I assure you, I
have never, ever exaggerated any of
his defining characteristics. __ -
The other question I’ve been
asked is: do I really weigh 387
pounds. I must admit, I was a little
dishonest in reporting this fact.
I did it to evoke sympathy in you
the reader, and somehow, I hoped it
would ultimately help me to win a
fortune playing in checkers tourna
ments. Don’t ask me why.
The truth is, I’m actually 6-foot
3 and 187 pounds of pure muscle. I
can squat (I’m sorry to interrupt,
but as Steve’s editor, I am required
by law to delete all blatant and
incredibly unbelievable lies made
by members of my staff — The
Editor) and that is the God’s honest
truth.
1 have thoroughly enjoyed
writing for the DN. It has been a
most rewarding, valuable experi
ence (Steve, watch yourself — ED)
and I truly mean that.
Until next semester, remember
this simple creed:
Laughter, Mayonnaise, and Rubbing
Against Statues — in that order. That
is what is important in life.
If you’re strong enough to ignore
the looks you’ll receive, you will
undoubtedly enjoy a much better
life.
And if you really don’t care what
people think, try combining all
three parts of the creed in order to
utilize the sensation.
WiUey is a junior ag-journalism major
and a Daily Nebraskan columnist
Moving day
Leaving dorm life is easier said than done
I never thought it would happen
— I’m moving out, on and up.
Out of the residence halls, on my
own and up in the world.
For me, it’s kinda scary. Sure, I
did the whole moving away from the
‘rentals when I was a freshman. No
sweat. It was different then —
cvciything was basically paid for.
As it has been for the last two and
a half years.
But not anymore. This time, all
bets are off.
No more guaranteed three meals a
day.
Or clean bathrooms.
Or Dani, who I’ve either lived
with or a few doors from since we
were freshmen.
So what’s the big deal?
Lots of pieople move out on their
own. It’s cheap, fun and has fewer
rules and regulations than living on
campus.
I think moving is going to be
emotionally difficult for me. After
all. I’ve lived in Neihardt Hall and on
the same floor since I came to
college.
Plus, L’ve been a student assistant
for the past couple of years. And
although SAs occasionally get a bad
rap, we really do invest a lot into the
residence halls. We put in immeasur
able amounts of time, thought, sweat
and care.
I ne ties that we have to our staffs,
flows and buildings are very intense.
And I’m finding that each time I
think, “This is my last time to...”, it’s
harder to leave.
But I am leaving, and with my
departure comes all the general
turmoil, and chaos, that comes with
moving.
And moving during finals
undoubtedly has to be the
worst.
Studying in my room is nearly
impossible. All I want to do is pack,
even though I’ve taken most of what
I’d qualify as non-essentials to the
apartment.
“The apartment.”
That sounds odd, yet exciting.
Jessica Kennedy
“Even more frightening:
two women in one
apartment ivith minimal
closet and bathroom
space. This could be a
scary situation. ”
I got to see the new “pad” for the
first time Sunday. My new roommate
and I were moving some stuff in.
The place is really nice. There’s a
cool patio and dining room. The
bedroom is really large and the living
room looks spiffy with the Christmas
tree.
And the kitchen. Wow, a real
kitchen. Not that I’ll be in there
much, of course.
The problem is I can’t cook. I’m
anticipating quite a bit of mooching
from my parents’ dinner table.
But I’m willing to try to cook — I
do need to eat sometime. Hey, I even
bought my first cookbook this
weekend. That’s a very frightening
thought.
Even more frightening: two
women in one apartment with
minimal closet and bathroom space. *
This could be a scary situation.
I mean there is a lot of space in
the bedroom and bathroom closets,
but I’m still worried. I collect clothes
and bathroom things like Imelda
Marcos collects shoes.
And I don’t think Natalie is too
far behind me.
It’ll be interesting.
You know, I’ve also taken
furniture for granted for the past 20
years or so. v_
When suddenly faced with the
prospect of not having any, I got
nervous.
But my fears are quickly dissipat
ing.
My parents and their friends are
proving just how generous they are.
And just how long they’ve been
hoarding old furniture for this
moving day.
Uld tumiture is the tamily
heirloom for the college student. Our
parents don’t give us precious
jewelry or family diaries. No, instead
they give us ragged and well-loved
furniture.
As I say goodbye to my room and
all the memories, I’m also saying
goodbye to my comfy lifestyle.
See, as an SA, the only bills I had
to pay, really, were the ones I brought
upon myself. Like music clubs or
credit cards or magazine subscrip
tions.
My survival wasn’t dependent on
any of those bills being paid.
But starting later this month, I’ll
have to worry about bills that really
matter: rent, electricity, water, food
and whatever bills I haven’t thought
about yet.
Moving day itself usually sucks.
And I suppose that with my luck,
we’ll get our big snowstorm next
week. And it won’t just snow.
There’ll be ice, too.
And the, storm will hit just as I’m
moving my heavy furniture or the
box with all my trinkets.
Overall, I’m excited about this
move.
I’m going to live in a great
apartment with a great roommate.
And I’m going to start a great job
with fantastic potential.
And somehow, I’m going to learn
to code.
Kennedy isajulor Broadcasting and
advertising ran]or and a Dally Nebraskan
columnist
■■■doomed
Dec. 1941
Student troops sent;
university responds
“At the union, temporary chairs were set up in
the lounge when the president spoke. There was
little comment until after he was through. Then
there was quiet discussion. The same was true
at organized houses. ”
December — and students
looking forward to vacation
and a break from studying.
Some are worried they will not
finish all their work in time.
Some have already given up
and are just praying for the
semester to end.
But then news comes, early
in the month, that some stu
dents will not be going home
for Christmas. They will
instead be sent to places of
military conflict and death.
Places they could not have
located on a map a week before.
The knowledge that some of
them will not return weighs
heavily on all.
That was 1941.
Sound familiar?
Tonight at 9 p.m. (CST),
President Roosevelt will make a
radio address in which it is said
he will give a “more complete
documentation” of the Japanese
situation.
The San Francisco Chronicle
last night reported that 50
unidentified planes were sighted
headed for San Francisco at 6:20
p.m. (PST). With no explanations
given, radio stations discontinued
broadcasts at 8:15 p.m. (CST).
A Tuesday bulletin from
Singapore indicated that bombs
began dropping there at 4 a.m.
Since Sunday afternoon when
first reports of the Japanese
attacks on U.S. territory were
heard, students’ interest has been
centered on the radio, on newspa
per extras, on rumors — on
WAR.
Now campus atmosphere is
tense but confident. Chancellor
C.S. Boucher issued the follow
ing statement:
“We stand ready to devote all
of the resources of the university
to the federal government in our
emergency. We shall heartily
comply with any suggestion or
request for any assistance, direct
or indirect, that can be rendered.”
Meanwhile, ROTC officers
and basic cadets feel vitally
affected, and the letdown is
noticeable. The uncertainty of
events is what seems to bother
them.
Col. Charles A. Thuis,
commandant of cadets, told
newspapermen that the status of
the 318 advanced military
students is “as unpredictable as
the price of wheat next year. Any
decision is up to the war depart
ment. I will make no attempt to
outguess that department.”
Under the present selective
service law, advanced ROTC
students are exempted from the
draft until they complete the
four-year training course; after
receiving their commissions,
however, most of them enter
active duty.
Basics Not Exempted.
Over 1,800 students are
enrolled in basic ROTC. They are
not exempt from the draft,
according to the military depart
ment.
“The Japanese have been
practicing up on their war moves;
they are not particularly green at
this business,” warned Prof.
Robert P. Crawford who traveled
through Siberia, Manchuria,
Korea and Japan in 1936. He
believes that this is the inevitable
culmination of the Japanese
expansion policy.
As for students, phonograph
machines in organized houses
were turned off; radio news
programs are eagerly awaited.
Bull sessions took place between
broadcasts.
Salutations changed overnight.
Instead of “Good morning,” or
“Hi,” there is “Got your uni
form?” and “When ya leaving?”
Students “Low.”
The student body is low. You
could sense it at 11:30 yesterday
when groups throughout the
campus gathered around radios to
hear the president address
Congress.
At the union, temporary chairs
were set up in the lounge when
the president spoke. There was
little comment until after he was
through. Then there was quiet
discussion. The same was true at
organized houses.
Most teachers excused 11
o’clock classes, and many
classroom discussions dealt with
the war. Assigmnents weren’t
turned in — “listened to the radio
all night”, and it was all right.
Law College Endangered.
At the Law College where
almost 45 men hold reserve
officers’ commission, tension is
quite high. With the loss of these
men in addition to those possibly
drafted, it would be doubtful if
the Law College could continue -
next year, college heads said
unofficially.
The situation last week when
the future held certainties —
certainties of war — has
changed. The future now is
nothing but questions, and that is
why NU students along with
students in college campuses all
over the nation are worried.
BE OUR GUEST
The Daily Nebraskan will present a guest columnist each Monday.
Writers from the university and community are welcome.
Must have strong writing skills and something to say.
Contact Mark Baldridge c/o the Daily Nebraskan, 34 Nebraska
Union, 1400 R St., Lincoln, NE 68588.
Or by phone at (402)-472-1782.
