Monday, November 24, 1975
N.C. Essay
Page 3
Dear Uncle Nasty
“Better vulgar than dull...”
-R. Suderburg, 1974
“Why not just vulgar?”
-Uncle Nasty, 1975
EDITOR’S NOTE: Returning
to the newspaper room one
night, I heard a rustling sound
in the comer. I turned quickly,
and there, brandishing a rolled
up copy of “Screw” magazine,
stood a strange figure with a
compelling air of depravity
hanging like a halo about his
psoriasis-ridden head.
Clad only in sunglasses, a
flannel robe and one sock, he
said he had come to bring the
searing light of obsenity to our
humble newspaper. Promising
to return every issue to give
advice to the lost, he
disappeared in a flash of body
lice.
It was then I knew we had
been visited by the prophet of
the pervade himself.
So it is with little pride and
less respect that we present the
wisdom of that wandering child
molester and part time
gynecologist. Uncle Nasty.
Dear Uncle Nasty,
I eat peanuts every night and
then I have this compelling urge
to have sex with my roommates
avacado plant. What should I
do?
Organic
Dear Organic,
Check that avacado plant out
closely; it could very well be a
dean of music. (In that case you
may want to cut down on your
peanuts.)
Dear Uncle Nasty,
While dining out last night at
the snack bar, I met the most
wonderful person. It was love at
first sight. Imagine my surprise
when I found out that he was the
dean of music: What should I
do?
Dear Yak,
Check again; that could be an
avacado plant.
Dear Uncle Nasty,
Why can’t I get laid? I’ve
been here for almost a term now
and haven’t seen so much as sm
erotic bicycle seat. What should
I do?
Desperately Celibate
Dear D.C.,
Don’t worry. Since we can no
longer have beer bashes.
Student Activities has decided
to hire a work study prostitute.
Resumes and auditions jor the
position should be submitted to
Uncle Nasty, any night past
midnight in the lower quad.
Dear Uncle Nasty,
I’m in a mess. I’ve managed
to pick up Syphillis, the Crabs,
the Clap and “Mono” all at the
same time. What should I do?
Acutely Concerned
Dear A.C.
Join the D & P Department
and don’t worry about it.
Dear Uncle Nasty,
I am twenty years old and still
can’t get it up. What do you
think I should do?
Helen
Dear Helen,
What kind of a fool do you
take me for? Anybody twenty
years old can get it up.
However, if your problem is
for real, your only chance is to
give up sex and become
something sterile, like a monk.
Dear Uncle Nasty,
I’ve got pain and a yellow
discharge. Could it be that I
have a social disease? What
should I do?
Worried
Dear Worried,
Get me the name of that
avacado plant. I think I may be
worried too.
Dear Uncle Nasty,
While my girlfriend was.
stretching on the floor, I
accidentally tripped over her
toeshoes and dropped a
hammer on her foot. Now she
can’t dance for a month. What
should I do?
Sick with grief
Dear Sickie,
Be thankful you didn’t drop it
on her lap. Then she’d really be
a useless dancer.
Lonely?. Distressed
Despondent? Homey?
Leave your letters in the
Uncle Nasty Box. (On the
bulletin board outside the
cafeteria.) For a personal
answer, leave your box number.
Ann Landers I ain’t, but I’m all
you got...
And don’t forget to check out
next issue’s column, when
everybodys’ going to get the
nasty treatment who didn’t get
it this time. Until then, yours in
depravity.
Uncle Nasty
Is “Stan’s”
A Joke?
By STEVE LEE
Heard the one about the gay
bar in Winston-Salem? It’s a
joke called “Stan’s”, located
across from Hanes Mall on
Stratford Road. My sense of
adventure told me that we
should look into it. Upon our
arrival, the first eyesore was
the unerased pencil sketchings
used to paint the
monogrammed S’s on each side
of the door. In spite of this
“touch of class”, my comrades
and I went in.
Entering the bar, our ears
were assaulted by the sound of
Loretta Lynn on the juke box.
We were relieved to find three
danceable selections, but after
hearing them nine or ten times,
we had had enough. Besides,
every time we would get up to
dance, all the conversations at
the bar would stop while the
people watched us. When we
finished, they applauded.
The bartender had a midriff
bulge that wouldn’t stop. He had
his shirt tied up under his
breasts-or should I say, the sad
imitations thereof. This
complemented his low-slung,
mid-calf length, highwater
pants.
As we cased the joint,we
realized that every guy in the
bar had a female companion.
When we asked if this was
really a gay bar, the bartender
took us into his confidence
saying, “Those guys are gay,
they’re just coupled with real
girls for cover-ups.” Are you
braced, readers?
The decor is passable, and the
lighting gives some nice effects.
The best feature is an open-air
patio in the back of the bar.
Since our first visit, the juke
box has been replaced, offering
a much better selection ol
music. Also, the patrons no
longer bother to applaud our
dancing, and occasionally they
join us. The cover-ups are fewer
in number now, so the people
must be relaxing.
The worst of all was the drag
queen show on Halloween. Only
one person even vaguely
resembled a woman, and that
was the performer. However,
her “talent” was to lip-sync
along with records. Her
rendition of “Johnny One-
Time” was heard six times, and
the “Cabaret” number had a
skip in the recording. It was a
feeble attempt at
entertainment, but at least it
can’t possibly get worse.
“Stan’s” has potential- with
the right people. They do have
good beer, and it is a place for
us to go. We could get together
and really make it rock.
Zimmerman Tries to be Honest
From Page 1
After the war, he went to Walter Reed Army Hospital in Washington, D.C. to have
several operations performed on his arm. Because he had already done research into the
physiological aspects of piano playing, he had special knowledge of the muscularity
involved. This Imowledge enabled him to aid the doctors.
As a result of the operations, he was now able to give demonstrations and play certain
pieces on the piano. But because of permanent nerve damage, he suffered the loss of the
sense of touch in the fingers of his right hand. This put an end to his performance career.
“At first I felt I would never be able to contribute anjrthing musically in a worthwhile
way,” he commented.
It was then when he decided to go into teaching. He went to the University of Syracuse,
in New York to get his Masters degree. “I thought that teaching privately and on my own
would be risky, but that I should not be stopped from teaching at a school.”
He got along well at Syracuse as two things helped him to rebuild his confidence. The
first was his work-study project, which was playing piano for an opera workshop eight
hours a day. This built up his confidence to manipulate the piano again. The second one
was the continued support from his piano teachers in favor of his decision to go into
teaching.
After the Syracuse experiences, he taught mostly at Wesleyan College in Macon,
Georgia. Being a native of Ashebille, North Carolina, he knew about NCSA frorti its early
origins and hoped to teach there. He felt a sense of pride and respect for the school. He
waited until January, 1971 for a job opening to become available.
He has been very pleased with his affiliation with NCSA. “If I were a rich man, I would
rather teach at this school for nothing than at any other school for pay.” He goes on to say
that, “There is an experience to be gotten from teaching at a school like this, very akin to
Julliard, Manhattan, New England and all the others. This is the kind of atmosphere I
have always wanted to get into.”
He commented briefly on his goals for the school. “This school has great potential, and
I hope that we will be better known all over the country. Above any thing else, we must
seek better quality students because this school can never afford to become an average
school.”
We talked about his teaching philosophies and what he can do as a secondary piano
teacher to help students. “A teacher should get every student to make music in a more
beautiful way. I try to teach them to play the instrument so it will become easier for
them, so they can create music easier and like music better. One of the biggest
difficulties of the students I teach is that they do not play the piano easily, so they do not
like it.”
He commented on the students themselves. “Most of the students who take secondary
piano have considerable ability for music, and those who don’t will not last at the school.
They should never have come here in the first place. As a whole, the students are
interesting and are a real challenge to teach. I enjoy working with young people, and I
hope that my affiliation with them will keep me from getting old before my time.”
Laughing, we went on to the next question.
Focusing on Mr. Zimmerman the musician, I asked him his opinions on music in
general and what he defines as bad music and good music. He replied, “I am geared to a
high standard of performance. I am not fond of popular music in any form because it
doesn’t seem to be a lasting art form, and I have never felt that it contributed anything of
lasting value to western civilization. It is true that the great jazz artists must have the
same kind of genius that any fine musician would have, but these people are few. Jazz to
me is a sameness: I feel it is on its way out, because people are getting tired of this
repetitious thing called jazz.”
“For yoim people interested in jazz, something should be done to further this interest,
but I am highly sceptical that anyone who is untrained in music can be trained in jazz. If
there is some musicianship involved in jazz, then one should learn all they can about
music, and not gear everything to jazz.” He went on to say that, “Jazz improvisations
are malignant unless one knows exactly what he is doing, and there are very few artists
who can do this. These are the great ones. But everybody can’t do this. If one wishes to be
a jazz musician, he must become a fine musician first.”
Having discussed what he thinks is poor about music, he began to discuss good music.
“I feel that good music is a lasting art form and to me, it must be beautiful. It is based on
subtlety of rhythm and phrase. It also must have a good compositional layout. I am
looking for a concord of pleasant sounds.”
He then gave examples of lasting art forms. “There are high degrees of art that are
dug up in Egypt. Thousands of years ago they were appreciated, and today they are
appreciated. Classical music has had its test, for it has been around for hundreds of
years.”
My favorite kind of music is singing. I feel that there is nothing on this earth like a
beautiful voice. And, if one listens to a beautiful voice, it can help them to get a beautiful
sound on their musical instrument.”
As a final question, I asked Bill how attitudes of education have changed since he was
young. He feels that there is less of a priority given to education today than before.
“TOere is less of an emphasis on education because many parents are so affluent that the
children do not seem to feel the importance of a good education. It is a tragedy that so
many young people today are given the idea that the^ can do what they please, and
things will still turn out well for them. I hope that this can be the case, but I cannot see,
through a fairly long lifetime of living, that things will work out like that. Today the most
sftccessful people are still the best prepared. Values are values, and anything that one
can get in the way of education is the thing that will get him on his feet professionally”.
Before the conversation came to an end, he wanted to make something clear to me
about his views. He smiled and said, “I try to be honest in what I think and say.”
William Zimmerman