Page Two
THE TWIG
October 9, 1969
MereditK. Co|le.9c.
October 9, 1969
Once Upon a Time...
Once upon a time, not so long ago (three years to be exact) there was
at Meredith a time of day dreaded by students and faculty alike—the
half-hour set aside five days a week for the purpose of CHAPEL.
This was a sad time indeed for those who were forced to attend this
part of each day’s activities and it was even a sadder time for those
whose job it was to provide for the half-hour with some form of enter
tainment or instruction. There was just no way to find enough interesting
speakers and programs to fill up every one of those 75 half-hours each
semester.
And so — through no fault of those in charge — chapel became not
a time for entertainment, instruction or inspiration, but a time for sleeping,
studying, writing letters or gossiping with friends.
These activities continued—yea, and worsened—as new ideas in the
chapel system were tried. Only three chapel periods were scheduled a
week; the honor system was used for recording chapel cuts and many turned
out not to have much honor after all.
And chapel continued—hated, abused and misused—an odd wheel.
What all this is leading up to is that the changes in chapel this year are
most welcome to those of us who remember what it’s like to hear a dif
ferent boring minister five days a week! We have nothing against ministers,
understand, but three times a week!!
But now, with liberalized attendance policies which reduce require
ments by one third, we feel that chapel realy has something to offer the
Meredith community.
For one thing, the chapel stage offers unlimited possibilities for new ex
periences. There are chances for students to see and hear things they might
never otherwise have discovered.
For instance, how else could Meredith girls have had such a perfect
opportunity to hear Mrs. Elizabeth D. Koontz express her views or have
witnessed and perhaps become involved in a real way with a jazz worship
or had the opportunity to talk with and ask questions of school admin
istrators in a relatively informal exchange?
Of course, some will say, “Oh, well, if it wasn’t required then we
couldn’t mind going to these things.” We doubt it, for we remember non
required concerts, lectures, etc., where only a handful of students bothered
to bestir themselves for the occasion. And we remember well Gerald
Goodman, the harpist troubadour who appeared here last year. Very few
students planned to attend the performance when it was first announced
—and it was not until Mr. Goc^man, in a chapel appearance, strummed
his harp and launched into the first few notes of “Shenandoah” did many
students decide that here might be something worth seeing or hearing.
Mr. Goodman, by the way, performed for a full house that night, thanks
to his introduction in chapel that day.
Or would many have gone to a non-required concert to hear Jean
Grealish, a Meredith graduate and an operatic star, perform. And yet, the
balance of chapel-attenders found themselves enthralled or at least inter
ested in Miss Grealish’s presentation.
Required chapel also provides an opportunity for people to get to see
each other—in fact, one of its expressed purposes is to “foster com
munity.”
And this it docs, we feel. At chapel, you are part of 1,000 others,
most of whom you can see all at once—it is a time for pep rallies, for
class spirit, for signing, for feeling “togetherness.” in fact, one day this
year, we overheard one girl make the following comment to a friend: “I
never get to see you except in chapel.”
All chapel needs is a chance — and this is what the Meredith student
body can give it. Suggest programs you think might be interesting, and if
you don’t think a particular program is really wonderful, at least have
the common courtesy to study quietly or sleep. Or better still, listen any-
•way.
Just think—you might've had to go five days a week. RBM
Mud-Slinging Time
Pay a visit to the new dorm these days, and you will either sling mud
or be slung by it. As a result of the recent rains, the new dorm often gives
the impression of being the Red Sea by day and the Black Sea by night.
The new carpels, on the other hand, appear to be the Painted Desert. Even
EDITORIAL STAFF
Editor Brooks McGirt
Associate Editors Emma Ruth Bartholomew, Janet Morris
Managing Editors Susan Soloway, Debby McShane
News Editor Helen Wilkie
Feature Editor Abigail Warren
Copy Editor Nancy Ausbon
Assistant Copy Readers Paula Gilbert, Linda Haddock
Cartoonists Rita Caveny, DeLena Williams, Dail Dickson
Snoop Scoop Becky Brown. Lura McCain
Columnists Pcrcy Beane, Donna Williams
Reporters Kathy Oliver, Emory Farris, Alice Forney
Edith Whitley, Suzanne Pomeranz, Ann Goodson, Susan Van Wageningen,
Martha Stephenson, Nancy Barnhill, Carolyn Harrelson, Ann Bryan, Patsy
Brake, Nancy Watkins, Jane Holt, Geni Tull
Facility Sponsor Dr. Norma Rose
BUSINESS STAFF
Business Manager. Cathy Moran
Advertising Chief. Ellen Webb
Mailing Editor Ruth Talton
Circulation Chief Lynda Bell
Typing Chief Joyce Little
Faculty Sponsor Dr. Lois Frazier
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D 0 □ D D
3tedl
Letter to the Editor
Dear Editor,
This article may not be of interest
to the majority of the student body,
but I think that it should be pre
sented to those who are interested.
The Meredith College stables have
been under changing management
for the past two years. Mrs. Mary
McKay Edwards, Miss Donna Le-
Roy, Mrs. Lila Bozick and finally
Mr. Luke Huggins have been the
managing heads.
I have been a student here only
under the management of Miss Le-
Roy and Mrs. Bozick. Last year
when I was a freshman, I enjoyed
the riding very much. I felt that I
was given much attention and con
cern. I also felt that I would receive
as much results as I put in effort. I
worked at the stable cleaning tack
and assisting in teaching classes. I
often did work for which I was not
paid simply because I felt that I
was receiving a type of education
in return.
This year Mr. Huggins is the head
of the equitation department. Mrs.
Bozick is assistant head. Mr. Hug
gins is teaching the saddle seat sec
tion. Mrs. Bozick is coming only one
day per week, on Monday, to teach
hunt seat equitation. On this one
day, she is trying to teach both Mere
dith and Peace students. There are
only a limited number of horses that
can be used for this purpose. I con
tend that it is impractical to expect
any instructor to try to spread her
instructional attention among as
many students as she is having to do.
It is also impractical to expect the
horses to withstand the strain of so
much concentrated work after hav
ing only been lightly worked during
the rest of the week.
I feel that it might be a highly
practical solution for the administra
tion to examine the situation and
student opinion, and consider the
solution of asking Mrs. Bozick to
come for an additional day during
the week. I know that I, for one,
am perfectly willing to talk with the
administration about this. I hope
that others will be stirred to interest
and will see me about the situation.
I would like it also to be well un
derstood that I am in no way ex
tending particular criticism of the
rest of the department.
Sincerely,
Kathy Oliver.
M Funny Thing Happened
Roman Version of "Laugh-In"
By Donna Williams
He wasn’t really on his way to
the Forum; the truth of the matter
is, Erronius was going around it
seven times. The poor man wasn’t
really as unintelligent as he seems
though. The soothsayer had told him
to circle the seven hills of Rome
seven times in order to exorcise the
ghost in his house. Poor Erronius
had no way of knowing that the
soothsayer wasn’t really a soothsay
er, and the ghost wasn’t really a
ghost.
Nor was Erronius the only con
fused character; chaos reigned
everywhere. However, any member
of the audience fortunate enough to
know Latin had a distinct advantage
in the universal attempt to unravel
the plot, for the author had used
Latin names to provide clues. Domi-
na and Hero are the two salient ex
amples. Miles Fioriasus is a perver
sion of the Latin phrase for “glorius
soldier.” {The hint here is that he
was the only one who thought so.)
However, Latin isn’t entirely
necessary. Mr. Harry Dorsett,
as
Domina’s henpecked husband was
named Senex. Simply remove the N
and either E and you’ve learned all
you need to know about his char
acterization.
Having had the privilege of work
ing with almost all of the cast in
past presentations, this viewer was
not surprised at the quality of the
acting. Harry Callahan’s excellent
sets and clever costumes added to
the author’s use of classic comedy
techniques (e.g., prologues, ad
dresses to the audience, masquer
ades, etc.), to produce an authentic
Roman atmosphere.
A FUNNY THING HAP
PENED ON THE WAY TO THE
FORUM is a fun play. The music is
clever, the characters are excellent,
and the action is lively. However,
the rnost powerful punch of all is in
the lines. Terse, well-delivered, and
utterly hilarious, any one of them
could have been lifted from a Rom
an version of “Laugh-in.” Prologus
and his cohorts have certainly ful
filled their promise: “morals tomor
row, comedy tonight!”
though the dorm is plush on the inside, the surrounding grounds leave
much to be desired. The new brick walkway and steps seem to be a mud
hazard rather than a convenience. Upon entering the new dorm at night
from the lake parking lot, one has the choice of chancing the pitch-black
steps or chancmg the circular drive and being struck by a passing car
When IS something going to be done to improve traffic to our campus’s
latest addition?
The Perils
of Percy
By Percy Bcanc
I remember now, it was this time
last year when after seventeen years
of being an “unexciting brunette,” I
decided the time had come to find
“the real me” and discover if
“blondes have more fun.” At first
I thought I would have “it” done
professionally, but after careful
consideration, I concluded that any
one with even limited intelligence
could become a “vivacious blond.”
Of course, this would be a mission
undertaken in utmost secrecy — my
mother firmly believed that the rea
son for Sampson’s defeat was not
that Delilah cut his hair, but that
she “Clairoled” her own tresses.
I proceeded to the local drug store
to choose “the product,” but when
I arrived I faced another obstacle:
the newest hair coloring products
they had were labeled “Do not use
after April 15, 1952” — the year
of the Henna Rinse! Driving to the
next town, I sought a brand which
would lighten gently, just like the
sun. I found one and once at home
I barricaded myself in the bathroom
in hopes of walking out an hour
later “an exciting blond.” Within 10
minutes after the application I had
become a contender for the title
“Miss Red Head of the Year.” I
made Lucille Ball’s hair look some
thing along the lines of washed out
the black eyebrows added to the
vision of loveliness reflected in the
mirror.
I had to hide my foul deed, so I
conned the neighborhood’s Little
League Baseball Captain out of his
cap for two dollars (he’s the one
who conned me!). Seeing me in the
baseball cap with Ramseur Junior
Rams written on it at the dinner
table was enough of a shock to dad.
But when he demanded that I take
the cap off and he saw the firey
tresses, he nearly had a coronary.
At the end of two weeks I had a
lovely quarter inch growth of black
hair down the part and around my
face. I looked like I had the first
stage of some scalp disease. My par
ents insisted that I return to my
natural color, so I bought some
Raven Rage dye. As easy as I be
came a red head, I became a bur
gundy head. Unfortunately, bur
gundy was “out” last year, especially
for the hair. In a panic, I called my
best friend. She suggested clorox. I
mixed a solution of clorox, peroxide
and water and saturated my hair
and scalp. The only thing that came
out was my hair, and the only
change of color was my scalp—now
geranium pink.
In desperation I called my hair
dresser and she said come in in two
weeks and she could “fix” it. I suf
fered through stares and stifiled gig
gles those two weeks. When Betty,
the beauty operator, saw my hair
she said, “The hair condition isn’t
bad, if you plan to use your head as
a broom.” After 6 hours, she got
my hair back to “almost a natural
mousy brown.”
To celebrate 1 decided to go
swimming at the new municipal
pool. I was the first to hit the water,
and the only one whose hair turned
green before everyone else’s eyes.
They watched my hair transform
from “almost natural mousy brown”
to “very mossy green.” For the re
mainder of summer vacation I suf
fered through such comments as
“Hey Mom, look at the girl with
the green hair.” And I managed to
survive not going out of the house,
because I was a “tinted woman.”
And do you know, the other day
some old lady came up to me and
said: “Have you ever thought of
being a blond? You would be so
lovely with light hair!” So take a
flying jump, lady!
Ttic opinions expressed in (he
editorials and columns of (lie
TWIG do not necessarily rcprc*
sent (liose of (lie udniinistration,
student body or the entire news*
paper staff.