PAGE TWO
THE LANCE
Staff
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 21,1974 '^ELANCE
The Saturday Night Void
A Satire
Editors
Walter Kuentzel
TimTourtellotte
Staff Beth Rambo, Kathy Lunsford, Helen M^ely, Vemon
Alford, Lin Thompson, Yvone Mason
Art Editor Susan Bainbridge
Sports Editor PWlUp^
Photographer Tony Ridings
Kim McRae
Circulatim Manager Kathy Salkin
Advisor Mr. Fowler Dugger
Business Manager Jimmy Thwaite
The editorial staff’s intent is to maintain professional
standards within the guidelines set forth by the Code of
Responsibility. Signed editorials reflect the opinion of the
author, while unsigned editorials reflect the majority
opinion of the' staff. Opinions expressed are not necessarily
those of the college. Letters to the Editor and articles are
welcomed, though subject to space limitations. Box 757
Letters to the Editor
Dear Editors:
In the last issue of “The
Lance,” we were pleased to
see the cover story and picture
of Carol Roberts and Pat Wat
ters, members of the
“Southern Voices” staff.
However, upon reading the ar
ticle we found you made no
mention of Carol Roberts and
that you quoted Alan (sic)
Freeman-who did not attend
the dialogue. The statements
made by Carol Roberts that
evening were attributed to Pat
Watters and comments of Pat
Watters were credited to Allen
Freeman. Granted, Freeman
(managing editor of “S.V.”)
had planned to come to the
Friday dialogue and publicity
was distributed to that effect.
Nevertheless, he did not at
tend and Ms. Roberts and Mr.
Watters were the only staff
members of “Southern Voices
in tiie evening dialogue. We
are angered as well as
dismayed that your reporter,
who was sent there to listen
and report as accurately as
possible, did not know to
whom he/she was listening.
So, for your reporter’s sake:
Pat Watters, editor of
“Southern Voices,” is the
man sitting on the left in the
“Lance” picture and Carol
Roberts, editorial associate
of the magazine, is the
woman on the right.
Thank you,
Marti Newbold
Mo Newton
We sincerely appreciate the
constructive criticisms of
fered by Ms. Newbold and Ms.
Newton cm the “Southern
Voices” article. We fully
recognize and admit its
deficiencies, and assure our
readers that we will take
every possible precaution to
prevent such errors in tiie
future. With regard to their
references to our reporter, we
hereby publicly offer both
ladies positions on “The Lan
ce” staff, confident that their
presence would markedly im
prove the quality of our re
porting. First, however, they
must decide among them
selves how to spell “AUen.”
-The Editors.
Dear Sir:
To my surprise, the Novem
ber 14 issue of the Lance had
one of my poems published on
the third page. I realized
quickly that Mr. Tourtellotte
did have my permission to
publish it; I had simply misun
derstood vrtiere it would be
published. Therefore, I am not
quarreling with the fact of its
Dublicatirai, but I am ex
tremely irritated that in a ten
line poem an entire line was
left out, the punctuation was
incorrect and my name was
misspelled. Needless to say, I
do not wish to be published in
the Lance again.
Sincerely,
Jeanette McClelland
“The Lance” assumes no
responsibility for Ms. Mc
Clelland’s inability to effect
ively communicate her
wishes in this matter to Mr.
Tourtelotte.
In reviewing the manuscript
supplied by Ms. McQelland
herself, we find that all punc
tuation ,was correct, and only
one word was omitted.
However, for the omission of
the word “final” and Uie
niisspeUing of her name, we
apologize. Needless to say, we
will be pleased to honor her
(final) request.
-The E^tors
BY TIM TOURELLOTTE
It’s Saturday night , on a
small college campus m
Southeastern North Carplina.
Merle Dingman is wandering
aimlessly, hands shoved down
in his pockets, looking quite
vainly for something to do. He
is suffering from the most
common ailment among
college students: The Satur
day Night Void, The Empty
Blues, the Boredom Itch, com
plicated with acute feelings of
being unwanted, unpopular,
unloved, etc. Occasionally,
Merle will pass a dorm and a
blast of music will reach his
hungry ears. This music has
a strange almost.
hypnotic effect on Merle,
freezing him there on the
sidewalk, while he stares
longingly at the music’s sour
ce. It is obvious that someone
somewhere is destroying the
night with abandon, escaping
the woes of college life with
loud music, a drink and com
panionship. This thought in
creases Merle’s melancholy,
feeds his paranoia. Unable to
take anymore, he hurries back
to his dorm rooih — only to
find his room mate, fl^jllard
Seed, stretched out on the
floor, meditating.
“Still at it, huh, Willard?”
Merle asks, plopping dejec-
tiedly onhisbed.
.SVillard gives him a superior
smile. “I’m approaching com
plete inner peace. Tam on the
periphery of bliss. I, have
escaped the gross con
finement of my body. You
should try and —”
“Look, Willard, I’m not gon
na lie on the floor and stare at
the ceiling. I need excitement!
It’s Saturday night! ”
Willard smiles with infinite
patience. “Once you have
escaped the vulgar propen
sities of the body Saturday
night will be simply another
timeless space in ecstasy.”
Overcome witii a sudden on
slaught of disgust, our hero
rushes over to the
refrigerator, fumbles
recklessly through Willard’s
cans of Mt juice and health
food and finds, stuffed
ignominiously in the rear, a
cold can of Schlitz. He pops the
top and drains half of it with
one amazing gulp.
, Willard remarks, “Alcohol
only increases the prinfiitive
desires of the flesh.”
Merle takes a smaller
swallow. “It’s only beer,
Willard. The president of the
United states, Gerald, what-
ever-his^ddle-name-is, For-
d, takes a beer now and then.”
Willard is not impressed.
“Nevertheless.”
The void within Merle is
ever widening. Saturday night
is quickly slipping away. He
rushes down the hall to Qyde
Head’s room, pounds
desperately on the door. There
is a sudden rush of activity in
side the room; the music
stops; the sound of a window
creaking open can be heard.
“Uh, ye^. Who is it, man? a
voice asks from behind the
door.
It’s Merle!” His voice
sounds empty and
Meaningless as it echoes down
the hall.
The door opens. Clyde Head
regards him opaquely.
“M&n, is that you, Merie
Merle nods - the void is
ever enlarging.
“Uh, wen, iiKe, great,
Clyde says. “C’mon in. We
were, like, you know, Ustening
to some music.”
Merle enters the room. In
the dim light provided by, at
le^t, ten black-light bulbs, he
recognizes a few people, but
they only nod. Merle sits down
beneath a black-Ught poster
which portrays a young couple
making love in a rather unique
and somewhat painful-looking
position, ayde locks the door.
“Well, like, I say we light
anothi8rone,”hesays.
Merle, not wishing to be
crass, does not ask what Clyde
is about to light. He looks
around for someone to talk to;
everyone is staring with a
peculiarly abstract look at
nothing. He turns to a young
girl sitting nek-by.
“Haven’t I seen you
oefore. .’’heasks.
“Where before”
“Well, anywhere before.”
“You’ll have to be more
specific.”
“About what.
The girl shakes her head.
“Far out,” she says benignly.
This conversation only in
creases Merle’s depression.
He settles back and stares
technically at the poster over
his head.
Suddenly there is a knock at
the door.
“Bummer,” says Clyde.
Someone opens the window
again. Clyde opens his closet
door and st^s something in
his father’s Salvation Army
coat. Then he opens the door.
It is Willard Seed.
“Uh, like, hello, Willard,’
Qyde says. We were just, uh,
you know, listening to music.”
“I have not come to visit,”
Willard says. “As you know, I
do nothing but exclusively
meditate on weekends.”
“Whatever’s your bag,”
Qyde says.
Willard turns to go. Almost
as an afterthought he turns
(Continued from Page 1)
Student Government
Association president Phil
Bradley was “saddened by the
president’s resignation. Dr.
Hart was a friend of the
students of St. Andrews and
was always cooperative in our
efforts to extend the freedom
of the students.” Recalling
Mr. Benton’s remark that the
Search Committee would in
clude faculty and student
members, Bradley said that
once the number of student
positions on the commitee has
been determined, self
nominations will be accepted
for those openings, with the
Cabinet selecting the ap
pointees.
A native of Milwaukee,
Wisconsin, the 57-year old Dr.
Hart was graduated from
Lake Forest College in 1938.
He received his M.A. in
business from the University
of Wisconsin in 1941, and was
awarded his Ph.D. there in
1951. In 1947 he became an
associate professor of
business at Carroll College, a
post he held until 1950, when
he was appointed Dean of the
School of Business Ad
ministration at the University
of Idaho. In 1956 he accepted
the same position at the
University of Florida, where
he remained until 1968. In that
and says, “However, there is a
phone call for young Merle.”
The ever-widening void in
Merle suddenly ceases, over-
come by a fierce, bright joy
He rushes down the haU to the
phone.
“Yes,” he says, “hello!”
“Howdy there buddy.” it
is his friend. Herb.
“Oh, yeah. Herb.”
“What kind of greeting is
that... ‘Oh, yeah. Herb.’ Jesus
I’m your old friend and bosom
buddy. Me. Faithful Herb.”
“What’s up. Herb?”
“How can you ask such a
cruel question?”
“Sorry. What do you
want.
“C’mon over. We’re having
a party.”
“Who’s there...?”
Herb’s voice becomes
evasive. “Well, a lot of
people.”
Merle begins to sink toward
the depths of despair the void
of nothingneiss. “You mean a
bunch of guys, don’t you.. ” he
asks.
“Well, to be honest, there is
a rarity of women, but
“But we can call some,
right.
“Right, baby. I’ve got a list
of hot numbers.”
“They never come, Herb.”
“Well, at least, we can can
talk to them on the phone.”
“No, thanks. Look, I’ll talk
to you later.” He hangs up the
phone and ambles into his
room. Willard Seed is on the
floor, meditating. Saturday is
almost gone. In a si^reme act
of capitulation, Merle stretchs
out beside Willard, who gives
him a look of sublime joy.
“Repeat after me,” Willard
says, “Ontmmimmmm...”
“Omrmnmmm,” Merle
moans, noticing there is a
water-stain on one of the tiles
in the ceiling.
year he assumed the post of
Professor of Management at
Virginia Polytechnic Institute.
In 1969 he came to St. An
drews, which he described as
the most exicting and
stimulating institution with
which I have been associated.
“He is a member of a number
of professional and academic
organizations and is the
author of “Business in a
Dynamic Society” as well as a
contributor to “Encyclopedia
Britannica.”
BOB'S
JEWEL
SHOP
The Place to
go for all your
Jewelry needs
Main St.
College Plaza
wawy popotftir
Jheliurl^Skippe
Bradley Responds
To Resignation