The Carolina Journal September 18, 1968 Page 9
Qy^^pTjj^lWhat Would Change,
yi J I uni I; M If You... by Donna Raley
Cabarrus
County Fair
One dollar per adult for admission. She took the ten dollar bill,
gave me two tickets and change and never looked up. A cop took the
tickets and tucked them into a gray stack in his hand. The glare of
spotlights and colors from a row of displays by local groups
depicting everything from buying groceries to not buying “the pill,”
meaning in this case dope! An Army sergeant stands in patent leather
dress shoes behind a captured North Viet Nam nortar. Sign on the
mortar says the black enameled wooden stand on which the mortar
sits was not captured from the enemy. From the building on to the
grounds, dust fills the air. Over to see an exhibition of wild ducks
under a tent from a local funeral company. Large sign on the large
duck cage reads “Admission Free.” No one can go into the cage, so
the sign must be for other wild ducks. It’s a novelty anyway, the
sign, because there are only two like it on the entire fairground. The
other is on the horticulture house, where filled fruit jars are stacked
on wooden shelves. Out to the midway where people play bumper
cars without the cars. The sugar - sweet smell of cotton candy
stiffens the air. Bright hot lights stare thru the dust in the night.
Somewhere from across the midway a Johnny Rivers’ record is
having a duel with a country-western record to produce the most
noise. Both are really trying. “Win a prize everytime, twenty-five
cents, one quarter of a dollar, come on folks.” A young boy lays
down a quarter, picks up a handful of hoops and wins a dime comb
on his first toss. He was trying for a black handled German knife on
the row above the comb. The kid runs the comb thru his hair once
and puts it in his bluejeans pocket. The dust seems to be fighting
with the sugar smell of cotton candy for control of the air. The sugar
smell is not willing to give up easily.
Do Not Feed The Animals
People, hundreds of people, packed and pushing in every
direction. Thousands of kids, each with his mouth open - something
sticky going in or something loud coming out. Old people squinting
blank looks at nothing. The in-between ages moving, paying, losing.
Black people, six with the same type straw hat with button saying:
“I'm an alcoholic-in case of emergency, get me a beer.” A Negro girl
with blonde hair her boyfriend, clean-cut, good looking, neatly
dressed, looking out of place. A white girl, early thirties, has her hair
pulled back and tied. She wears tight bluejeans on her chubby frame,
also a long-sleeved, button-up, v-neck, grey sweater and no bra, A fat
barker inside the pitch-a-hoop tent witches her go by. He wears a
stretched T-shirt with a sign on the front. “Lie down, I think I love
you.” Three inches of stomach showing beneath the bottom of the
T-shirt. His navel peers above the top of his pants to stare with its
one dark eye at the world. “Jst break or ship two plates and win
yourself a prize. Three throws for a quarter.” A young colored boy
replaces the cheap broken plates and picks up the black-taped
baseballs and returns them to a box. One ball, hard thrown,
ricochets from a board and strikes him in the back of the shoulder.
He grimaces. The crowd laughs. An old lady in bermuda shorts and a
knit blouse calls a horse race played by pinball machines. “And
Vulcan’s Fires th’ winnar. Give th’ lady a prize.” “Take a look at the
Little Ladies,” a paunchy barker calls from the stage of the girlie
show. “They’ll be performing for you inside in just five minutes.”
One lady is in a black bathing suit which accents her ivory white
skin. Her figure was fine - twenty years ago. The second lady has
long blonde hair, not hears. She wears a tight fitting white evening
gown on her too full frame. Her age couldn’t be past twenty-five.
The third lady wears a white tasseled bikini and a bored look. The
barker continues to grumble into his mike. “It’s not dirty, it’s not
nasty, it’s just fun. It’s burlesque. The usual price is a dollar and a
half. I’m gonna make the price so low that the poor people in Saigon
could afford to go.” Punching an Oriental ticket seller, he says,
“That’s where you come from.” Continuing to grumble. “We gonna
let you folks in for just one dollar. Bring the little woman with you.
They say the hand that rocks the cradle, rules the world. She
deserves a little fun. Just one dollar.” An old man in coveralls and a
dirty dress coat lays a crumbled dollar bill before the ticket seller
then ambles up the stairs. Another microphone, another lady invites
the crowd to see “the world’s smallest people from Australia, just
three feet tall.” A small hand-lettered sign stuck vertically on the
side of the trailer reads REPLICAS. Tire pungent smell of chili from
a Legion Post hot dog stand has driven the sweet sugar smell of
cotton candy out of the dust. Johnny Rivers’ record has won over
the country-western sound, and several teenage girls with too much
make-up and tight clothes over under-developed bodies bounce with
the beat.
Playing bumper-people is how the crowd moves. Green and yellow
and other colored lights whirl with the ferris wheel. The nonsense
noise now is a pressure on both sides of the head. The legs have a
numb sensation. On a stool on a stage above the crowd sits a young
girl. Behind her is a side show of deformed people. The girl wears a
red gown the had been tied into a knot for a week before she put it
on. In her uncombed brown hair is a jeweled crown. She is plain, no
makeup on her questioning face. Into her mouth she puts a snake’s
head. It’s body is draped around her neck. She has on brown lace-up
shoes. A couple stands in front of the stage and watches. Both have
on bluejeans and orange sweatshirts. Each has one hand in the
other's hip pocket. Bojo, the clown, hollers from inside his cage
What would you do if you have
the power to change anything on
this campus?
A recent survey proved,
without a doubt, that UNC-C has
the most contented students in
the whole country. Riots,
demonstrations, etc., need not be
feared. If given the power to
change anything on the entire
campus, the average student had
to really delve deeply into his
mind to find an area of annoyance
and discontent, when he discovers
something he would like to
change, one realizes that his wants
and needs are relatively simple. He
has obviously not been harbouring
any deep-seated gripe.
Many large, shady trees were
the desire of summer school
students. An instant large tree
might be looked into by some
enterprising individual. On the
other hand, many “rainy season”
type students desired another
protection. Barbara Jean Smith
wanted a“walkway from the
Union to the Engineering building
and then over to “C” building.”
Steve Raybom decided that a
sidewalk Tinder Miss Smith’s
walkway would be ideal.
Disregarding the effect of the
weather, some students had a
rather hostile attitude towards a
few selected members of the
administration. The unpopularity
of one individual in particular was
noted in several opinions. The
desire to change or eliminate
members of the faculty, student
body, administration, and friends
came more quickly than any other
change.
Changes in the Union were
simple and could probably be
satisfied most quickly. Mike
Purser, as did a majority of
students, wanted to see “a change
in the records on the juke box,
better movies” and, the
...and stood in line
impossible dream, “the sale of
beer on campus.”
Turning towards a more serious
vein, Charleen Crumply would
like Sororities and Fraternities on
campus. Ben Basinger suggested a
pass-fail system which was
advocated by many students upon
the mention of the idea. Robert
Pleiner said that “Students should
be able to evaluate teachers and
also be informed of teachers they
will have.”
Following along the subject of
courses, Sandy Smith and Larry
Miller expressed the wish to
“either eliminate final exams” or
“have them before Christmas”.
Lynn Johnson, on the other hand,-
said that “A student shouldn’t
have to take an exam if he has an
“A” in a course.”
“More Seminars” was the wish
of John Lafferty. “There should
also be an influx of money into
departments so that more
professors may be brought in”.
Mr. Lafferty continued to say that
“More books should be added to
the library and the academic area
could be more flexible to enable
more discussion.
In view of the overwhelming
enrollment this semester, there are
very prevalent situations which
students want to see changed. The
procedure of registration
“certainly is not organized” is one
comment from freshman Scott
Bradly. Another freshman said “It
was a mess!” Dan Wilson said he
would like to see “more
involvement with the freshmen”.
(Dan, we’re sure you can manage.)
A unanimous wish for another
Herlocker’s (or a larger one) was
expressed. Students desperately
want and need an establishment
off campus where they can
socialize.
In the midst of all the
discontent, large and small, there
is always one, happy soul. IXinnie
Kiestler, when asked how he
would facilitate his power for
change said “Damn, 1 don’t know,
1 like it!”
—> JVew Guru Arrives —
by W.I.T.
In the vocabulary of the
modern mystical set, a “guru” is a
spiritual leader who teaches his
disciples not only by means of
example, but also through
recorded dialogue. The gurus of
today teach thousands on a
one-to-one tutor-to-pupil basis,
and reach many multitudes
through tidy (and profitable)
volumes of meditations and lore.
above the water. He hollers at a man throwing baseballs trying to i
drop him in the drink. “Hey, buddy, you got a kind face - the kind]
that should be covered with a rug.” To a bald-headed man, “the'
Lord must’ve luved ya, fella, he gave you one face and room for I
another.” He started to say something else when a ball found its (
mark.
The country-western sound has taken over. The smell of horses ]
replaces the dust smell. A man walks by carrying a purse. Another'
man walks with him. A pretty young mother lugs a big two-year old \
toward a bench seat. The Father carries two cokes. A thousand (
candle moths encircle the shower of liglits from a spinning ride. A {
thin girl holds two cotton candy wads in her thin hands. She .
viciously attacks one with her entire face, tongue, mouth, teeth,
nose, and hair. The nose gets most. In five minutes she finishes one
was and with her now-free-hand pulls chunks from the second wad. '
A short, fat mother screams at her red-haired daughter in bermuda '
shorts while a fat sister in spiked heels also screams at her. Two ,
blonde-haired toddlers sleep with their heads on their father’s ,
shoulders, the world around the waiting car is refreshingly quiet,
cool and clean.
p«T
DUNAIO —
He. SflVS HE'S
A nrtxjcz
BUT 1 think
HE'S A HAVtfK
During the Han Dynasty of
ancient China (206 B.C.-220
A.D.), Tung Chung-shu, a
Confucian mystic, taught that the
“three cords (kang) of the Way of
the true sage-king may be sought
in Heaven.” The literal meaning of
“kang” is “a major cord in a net,
one to which the other cords are
attached”. Thus the sovereign is
the “kang” of his subjects, that is,
he is their master. Likewise, the
husband is the “kang” of the wife,
and the father is the “kang” of his
sons. These are the three “kang”
upon which the ideal Chinese
society is based. When the society
in which the members follow
these three basic relationships to
the letter finally arrives, a great
teacher-leader will arise to govern,
guide, and instruct the citizens of
the world. He will ascend to the
earthly throne by non-violent
leaps and bounds. He w''! be loved
and adored by all, ai e will be
known as the “kang-'
AND AEEL
co(v\es f