Friday, November 3,1978
THE CLARION
Page 3
kM
It
Burger and Turtle: Dedicated Fans
Grenier
Burger Finds Turtles
Safer Than Women
By Jane Williams
The following interview is designed to give the
Brevard College student a better understanding of the
famous Rosman-like instructor, Mr. Pete Burger.
Clarion: What has inspired you to build the weirdest
reputation on campus? Are you making up for a shy
childhood?
Burger: I wasn’t aware that I had the weirdest
reputation on campus. I always assumed that my
behavior was normal. I wasn’t kept in a shell (eeent,
eeent, eeent) as a child, but I was shy as a matter of
fact. I still am.
Clarion: If you consider your behavior of the norm,
how do you explain the turtles?
Burger: I envy their ability to withdraw into their
shells when threatened, physically or otherwise. They
are just fine fellows.
Clarion: Have you been physically or otherwise
threatened here at Brevard College, that you should
envy a turtle’s shell?
Burger: Certainly, virtually every day.
Clarion: Besides what you have already mentioned,
why are you so interested in turtles? Don’t you find their
personalities boring?
Burger: Oh no, it’s safer to be attracted to turtles than
other creatures, women for example. (Devilish
laughter).
Clarion: So, Mr. Burger, although you have just cut
your popularity in half, would you explain why you have
put female hornosapiens under a creature category?
Burger: Perhaps I should have said animals.
Clarion: You are doing nothing to resurface your
dying popularity.
Burger: I don’t see how my popularity (with turtles)
could be injured, one bit.
Clarion: Because they can’t read?
Burger: No, they can read, I just haven’t said
anything to offend those hard shelled creatures.
Clarion: O.K., let me ask you this. Obviously, you
seem to be on the same level with turtles, do you have
3ny knowledge of your ancestral blood?
Burger: No, but I’m sure it’s largely reptilian.
Clarion: Then maybe we could also cover your
*’6putation as a beast?
Burger: A Beast! With whom do I have such a
6putation? Beast Indeed!!
Burger ended the interview laughing and stom-
Ping his feet on his desk.
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A Spectacular Autumn
By Ken Chamlee
If anything good has come from
the prolonged drought that still
affects western North Carolina, it
would have to be this years
beautiful array of fall colors. Due
to the dry weather and a couple of
good frosts, the leaves displayed
greater variety and intensity
than I have ever noticed. In
Pisgah Forest, the drive up to the
parkway was fifteen miles of
kaleidoscopic fantasy. If you
could squint your eyes out of
focus (or in my case just take off
your glasses), it was like a ride
through an impressionistic
painting, a softly surreal land
scape. Huge maples, shimmering
yellow, seemed to swirl with
scarlet oaks; dogwoods and
sourwoods flared with hues of red
and peach. The early morning
light, barely above the nearby
ridge, threw long shadows that
rippled continuously over the car,
flashing starburst after starburst
through backlit leaves.
At the Cradle of Forestry, the
self-guiding trail silently im
pressed me with why men long
ago wanted to preserve this
forest, to learn how to replenish
as well as harvest. Just past the
Pink Beds, the drive down Yellow
Gap Road provided delight and
despair. Large tear-shaped
hickory leaves hang like drops of
bullion above the road, but
because of the excessive dryness,
passing cars had thrown a
blanket of pale brown dust over
the laurel, rhododendron and
ferns that grew nearby.
Everywhere I drove the color
was high, up in the trees, while
the road remained neutral and
irritating. Several miles in, a
hillside catching shafts of light
was covered solidly in crisp
brown ferns. Although tinder dry,
the brackens looked like an acre
of curled hair waiting for a comb.
The real treat, though, was
along the crest, up on the Blue
Ridge Parkway. The early sun
caught the rock walls that loom
over the road and tunnel-mouths
and etched out every crevice and
imbedded spark of mica.
I found the sky such a deep blue
that a polarizing filter for my
photographs seemed excessive,
unrealistic. In the Mount Pisgah
Life in Brevard
By Jon Young
Of the many and unendurable
hardships we students face in
college life there still remains a
sweetened bit of solicitude in our
souls to simply enjoy an entire
weekend without the worry of the
following week’s class assign
ments. That time may be soon
approaching with the arrival of
Parents’ Weekend, November 3-
4. This is the opportune weekend
when we, as unmanageable,
rodents of the universal college
slime (and if you don’t liken to
this unbiased description of a
typical 18-20 year old, well
Excu....se Me!) await the arrival
of our loving parents, eager to
guide them on an exciting,
roundabout tour of the wonderful
city of Brevard.
For eating pleasure, Brevard
offers a variety of dining
establishments located con
veniently in the heart of the city.
Perhaps the best place is the
Piranha Fish Club, where both
you and the fish eat to your
heart’s delight. After dinner, you
and your parents may actually
speak with the head fish-chef, a
remarkable little man who
beams an uncanny resemblance
to a goldfish due to the fact that
he is constantly seen blowing
bubbles through his nose.
On Sunday, your parents leave
the campus of Brevard College
knowing that surely colleges
have grown up since their day,
when fraternities swallowed fish
and had weekly panty-raids on
female dormitories.
For a delightful evening on the
town, your parents and relatives
may enjoy a film presentation at
the local movie theater, the Co-
Ed. Perhaps they would like to
see the great classic, “Charlie
MCCarthy Meets Howdy Doody.”
On the other hand, EC’s musical
production, “Finian’s Rainbow,”
will be given in Dunham
Auditorium. Here parents may
see their son or daughter commit
the unforgiveable stage sin of
echoing the biggest belch during
a truly memorable love song ever
heard in the history of the
theater. This of course begins a
chain reaction of belches
throughout the rest of the cast of
the play. Then the orchestra
starts playing a concerto entitled
“Belch in E minor.” The
audience, filled with parents
from various parts of the state
a».d country, naturally cannot
help from doing the same unruly
practice. Hopefully the play will
not be completely ruined if the
actors can stay in character,
totally fooling the audience into
submission.
campground, clusters of bright
red mountain ash berries
decorated the loops. It was so
quiet, so clear, that the normally
silent rabbits, with their^thick
winter coats, were easily heard
thumping about in the un
dergrowth.
For seven miles south of Wagon
Road Gap, past Tunnel Gap
where the migrating Monarch
butterflies pass each September,
past the tight horseshoe curve of
Pounding Mill overlook with its
270 degree panorama, to the
Graveyard Fields, where a
tremendous fire once burned
away everything, even the top-
soil, so that fifty years later only
small trees and bushes have
taken hold, the colors were more
vibrant and exciting than
anywhere else. Every overlook
was a postcard, each mile a slide
show in itself. Against a
background of rock and sky, the
leaves dangerously drew my eyes
from the road, magnetizing
stares. These were the finest
miles, the ones without compare.
We had it right here. All the
brilliance and collage of color
that makes autumn my favorite
perennial show was right here. I
spent two days in the Smokies
over Fall break and most of the
color I saw was in the line of cars
backed three miles from
Newfound Gap toward Cherokee.
I hope you got a chance to see
some of it, get out and take a
drive or hike. We were indeed
lucky to have such a show vir
tually in our living rooms. And re
runs are a long time away.
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