Missouri Showme January, 1946 Missouri Showme January, 1946 2008 1946/01 image/jpeg State Historical Society These pages may be freely searched and displayed. Permission must be received for subsequent distribution in print or electronically. Please contact hollandm@missouri.edu for more information. Missouri Showme Magazine Collection University of Missouri Digital Library Production Services Columbia, Missouri 108 show194601

Missouri Showme January, 1946; by Students of the University of Missouri Columbia, MO 1946

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Missouri Showme The Shack January 1946 15 cents 1946 BASKETBALL GETS UNDER WAY JAMES WHITE, Center JOHN HEIMBURGER, Forward WENDELL MOULDER, Forward VARSITY BASKETBALL SCHEDULE-1945-46 M.U. Opp. 44-Friday, December 7-Westminister at Fulton, Missouri. 30 64-tFriday, December 14-Nebraska at Kansas City, Missouri. 54 35-tSaturday, December 15-Kansas at Kansas City, Missouri.59 35-Friday, December 21-St. Louis U. at St. Louis, Missouri. 50 42-Saturday, December 22-Washington U. at St. Louis, Missouri.45 Friday, January 4-Washington U. at COLUMBIA Monday, January 7-tKansas at Lawrence, Kansas Friday, January 11-fIowa State at COLUMBIA Tuesday, January 15- Kansas State at Manhattan, Kansas Friday, January 18- Nebraska at COLUMBIA Saturday, January 26--Oklahoma at COLUMBIA Tuesday, February 5-St. Louis U. at COLUMBIA Saturday, February 9-fKansas State at COLUMBIA Friday, February 15-tIowa State at Ames, Iowa Friday, February 22- Kansas at COLUMBIA Monday, February 25-tNebraska at Lincoln, Nebraska Saturday, March 2-- Oklahoma at Norman, Oklahoma t--Indicates double header series with Kansas, Kansas State and Nebraska. t--Big Six championship games. Missouri S H O W M E "A Reflection of Modern Campus Thought" Presented and staffed by the Missouri chapters of Sigma Delta Chi, professional journalism fraternity, and Theta Sigma Phi, honorary professional journalism sorority. Dave Breger, creator of our cover, is depicting the change from soldier to civilian more skillfully and with more humor than any contemporary cartoonist through his cartoon Mr. Breger, now ap- pearing coast to coast as a King Feature. During the war he chronicled the adventures of the American soldier in training and in combat through his characters Private Breger, which appeared in Satur- day Evening Post, and G. I. Joe of Yank magazine. Now his Private Breger has be- come "Mr." Breger Dave has done justice to the reconversion and is just as humorously presenting a veteran's life. As a former col- lege student, we believed he could best portray the return of the vet- eran to the campus. He definite- ly has succeeded. Thanks, Dave! STATEMENT OF OWNERSHIP The Missouri Showme is published monthly during the school year by the Missouri chapter of Sigma Delta Chi, national professional journalism fraternity, as the official humor and literary publication of the University of Missouri. Prices Fifteen cents the single copy. Copyright 1946 by Missouri chapter of Sigma Delta Chi. Permission to reprint given all recognized exchanging college publi- cations. Editorial and Business of- fice, Jay H. Neff Hall; office of publication, Modern Litho Print Co., Jefferson City, Mo. Not responsible for unsoliciated manuscripts; postage must be enclosed for return. DAVID R. BOWERS Editor JEANNE ROGERS Associate Editor LAURA ETZ Makeup Editor DON BRYDON Literary Editor MARY JOE CONNOLLY Art Editor GEORGE JOHNSON Cartoon Editor Editorial Staff: Marcia Allen, V. T. Blippard, Billie Bryant, John Crosser, Ruth Dunagin, Gerry Eliot, Lee Ers- kine, Helen Ferguson, Paul Fisher, Shorty Hahn, Doris Henderson, Nancy Johnston, June Keller, Jim Lacy, Peggy Leake, Bill Lee, Kathryn Mor- gan, Anna Pendergraft, Peggy Rob- nett, Webb Schott, Jean Senneff, Martha Shea, Helen Staeuble, Dulcie Witt, Mary Whitnell, Marianna Whit- taker, Jane Wulf. Photographers: Jane Carr, Mary Joe Connolly, Shorty Hahn, George E. Johnson, Mary Louise Miller, Dulcic Witt. The "true sons of old Mizzou" are returning. The back-slappings are increasing as it takes twice as long to complete the main drag from Jesse to Walter Williams. You know the routine-a glance, indecision, a few mind probes, "Well. for God's sake, glad to see ya back." * It's going to be a good year. Columbia's night spots are jamm- ed. Background conversation is a pot-pourri of four, three, two years' rehashings, snatches of "What do we do with the Drunk- en Pilot" and a rebirth of "Used to Work in Chicago." Fraternity houses no longer are silent, empty monuments to better times or even barracks resounding with regi- BILL SHEPLER Business Manager MARY MARQUIS Advertising Director BETSY MOODY Modeling Director MARY LOUISE MILLER Promotion Director JEFF YOUNG Circulatoin Manager Advertising Staff: Mary Jo Abey, Hal Chancellor, Penny Feldman, Chuck Hoch, Betsy Moody, Jean Moon, Julie Moscowitz, Shirley Peironnet, Jerry Sparling, W. H. Shaw. Promotion Staff: Roberta Doder, Suz- anne Grigsby, June Keller, Mary Whit- nell. Circulation Staff: Billie Bryant, Ruth Dunagin, Helen Ferguson, Mike Ham- mer, Peggy Leake, Jean Senneff. Cartoonists: MarianCrites, Philip De- maree, George E. Johnson, Fred W. Lief, John de Lorenzi. Secretariat: Marcia Allen, Kathryn Morgan. mented clod-hoppers. Classrooms, ceasing to resemble something out of a seminary, now hold masculine inmates for 50 minutes, at least. There's one thing more and it's best explained by a story. One fel- low, just hittting town, bought three beers. He didn't drink them. Lined them up, looked at the ceil- ing and said, "Here's to you. I made it." We all notice those empty chairs-that will never be filled. We can't and won't forget them. This is the vet's issue of Show- me. Rough in spots, perhaps. We had reconversion snags, too. But as yet no strikes . J.R. 1 Our service flag removed from the window we're back on campus after many doings and misdoings since 1920-yes, we have a past History of Showme by DORIS HENDERSON In 1941 Bob Deindorfer wrote in the January issue of Showme "we wonder what publication historians, delving into Showme files, will say about our Showme." Hmmm. Well, he asked for it! Back in the postwar era of 1920, G. H. Combs, Jr., and Wil- liam Tweedie decided that some- thing was needed to pep up the student body. (Now where have we heard that before!) The re- sult was a monthly humor maga- zine called the Missouri Showme. Thus it was in the dreary month of October, twenty-five years ago, that Showme was born. "Let the children have the vote" was the theme of the edi- torial page of that first issue. The editorial also stated that it would strive for unbiased election news- untainted by party affiliations. (That seems to ring a familiar bell, too.) The Missouri Showme of the hey-day 20's followed the policy that "anything goes"-and it went! The January, 1923 issue was called a Back Issue and print- ed a lot of jokes written in the style of the subject's inner thoughts. It was later in the year that one of the Showmes went too far and printed a story called "Confessions of a Co-ed." Evidently it left nothing unsaid for the Showme was immediately bounced off the campus. After five years of cooling its heels, it reared its ugly head again in 1927. Someone made a startling discovery. Something was needed to pep up the student body! So they were off again! This time they issued the old Showme incognito under the name of the Missouri Outlaw. Edmee Baur as editor and Wesley Nash as business manager were the fathers of this illegitimate child. When the publication made its 1930-31 debut, the name on the front cover was once again Showre. This time it began to crusade for a system of student activity tickets for all students on the campus and also for all stu- dent activities to be unified under the control of the Student Govern- ment Association. (Gads, those were the days!) Thumbing rapidly through the old files of Showme, we find that most emphasis was placed on music, art, sex, humor, literature, sex, drama, humor, sex, ads, poetry, and sex. In 1932 a humorous ad on the new Kappa fire excape graced one of the back pages. The ad showed several boys, frothing only slightly at the mouth, on the ex- cape and called it the "College boys' meeting place." In the September, 1938 issue a serious ad pictured a breathless young man saying "You bet I'm rushing right over to Chorlton Arms where I can study and sleep in comfort!" This was the year when the "Big Apple" was the craze and they were offering "for free" a box of Life Savers for the best wisecrack! The 1939 issues revealed a raging feud between Showme and the Missouri Student-the latter lovingly nicknamed the "Manurie Stoodent." One peek at a spring issue in 1941 gave away its theme of "Glamour can be yours" or "if clothes won't do it, try Listerine, Ovaltine, Lifebouy, Smith Broth- ers, Kreml, Tums, Mennen, Ipana, Bromo, Plastic Surgery, Opium, or the River." In 1942 the old Showme be- came poetic over Mizzou's All- American Darold Jenkins. And then the rains came and Showme fizzled out. Now Showme's back again and what a time to start! A brand spankin' new student government, a Big Six Champion football team, and besides, didn't someone say that what we need on this campus is something to pep up the student body? Around the Columns Student Government Resounding around the mighty columns is the embarrassing ques- tion, "What's happened to that gol-derned wonderful Student Government we fought with blood and guts for?" Activities of said institution to date have consisted of opening and reopening of petitions for various committees, appointments of same, and - and - and well, that's it! Oh yes, they also meet every Monday at 5 p.m., in the seclusion of Read Hall. But where, oh where, are all the big "doins" they promised old Mizzou? The answer, in a nut shell, is this (and we quote from the council itself): "We ain't got no money!" Scuttlebut has it, how- ever, that come next semester the Student Government will receive quite a cut from a student activity fund to be added to that long list of donations on our registration blanks-so dig deep, stoodents, and save your adverse remarks 'til after the foundling lawmakers fall heir to that one essential for big business-dough! Outside Inn- "Inside Out" There's a new place to go in town, at this writing it still has the first claim to cleanliness of our many and multifarious night- spots. "The Outside Inn," which before-1942'ers remember for its convenient darkness, is still un- matched in this respect. Those few who have inhibitions about showing their feelings under Co- lumbia Klieg lights-operate here with the best of them. The Inn boasts two rooms-a small one, with a fireplace; a smaller one, closer to the "She" and "He." A word of advice. The latter label does not read "Me." Several, who saw only the one entrance, found the wrong type of equipment. The Inn isn't the answer to beating the crowds, because and I quote, "Everybody goes there now!" There's one tiny com- plaint-too much ice in the set- ups. Coach Edwards If you have any odd jobs that need professional attention, the man to see is George Edwards. Whoever coined the old saying, "Let George do it" must have had him in mind. He is currently known as "four- jobs Edwards"-holding the posi- tions of basketball coach, associate professor in physical education, acting director of sports publicity, and acting business manager. Who could ask for anything more! His colleagues say that he's the most versatile man alive. He can practically do anything a Jeep can do! What's more, (and get this) he can stand on railroad tracks (one foot on each track), jump up, turn around in mid-air, and land with his feet on the tracks in the same spot facing the op- posite direction! If you think that's easy, brother, just try it! But in all fairness to Edwards, wait until you're 55 and then try it! There's always been plenty of variety in the life of George Ed- wards, who played all sports at Kansas City's Central High School as a teammate of commical Casey Stengel, former major league play- er and manager. The football cheerleader at good old Central, K.C., then was William (The Thin Man) Powell, movie actor. We might add here (in fact we will) that Mrs. Edwards was Wil- liam Powell's leading lady in their high school play-so George isn't the only celebrity in the family! "Four-jobs" Edwards has been head basketball coach at the Uni- versity for 16 years, turning out three Big Six championship teams. Just remember, if you ever want anything done-and done right- "let George do it!" Jumbo Jim Star of the Tiger '45 eleven was Jumbo Jim Kekeris, tackle. Sports writers thought well enough of him to elect him outstanding player in the Big Six as well as to several All-American second teams. Most of the season the gargan- tuan lad's weight was anyone's guess. The field house scales registered only to 300 pounds. When Kekeris stepped aboard, ( Continued on Page 16 ) 3 A veteran's return would be incomplete without a revival of traditions so here's the story of the old- est tradition of all. Why I am an Oddball by JESSE WRENCH People who think I am a screw- ball have themselves all balled up. I definitely am not a screwball. I am an oddball! It is probably all a matter of genes and chromo- somes. (Genes are the little things inside chromosomes. The thing goes on from there like a graduated set of Chinese boxes.) Perhaps a short outline of my life will help you understand how I came to be the oddest ball on this peculiar sphere. I was born with a beard. That tickled my mother. I used to sit in my high chair at home in Afton, New York, looking for all the world like the man who came to dinner. But the beard was a nui- sance during my childhood, and to this day I still find porridge in it. I was a perfectly normal young- ster, and because I spent my early years on the farm, my time was occupied with milking cows, rid- ing horses, and seeing that the goats (with beards) did not get themselves tangled in the barbed wire fencing around the place. While walking three miles to high school and back every day, I decided to become a minister- a perfectly normal decision which many boys make at that age. I left my home at Afton-on-the- Susquehana to go to Cornell, where I did research in the ologies, zo-, ge-, and bi-. As part of my work in ornithology I used to go out on the lawn at five o'clock in the morning to watch birds. While completing an important experi- ment one morning, I crept up on a bird and poured a coffee pot full of beer on its tail, thereby noting the bird's abnormal reactions. That same morning my classmates dubbed me "the odd one," and I have since been referred to as a 4 screwball, a loosenut an etherhead and an oddball. The latter, I think, is the correct terminology. My college life was very happy on the whole except that my studies kept me from learning much, and at the end of four years I was flat broke. An odd-looking professor came to my rescue and offered me a po- sition as general flunky with an archaeological expedition to Asia Minor. This was in 1905, and soon after we arrived, I got into a flat-bottomed boat and rowed around the Dead Sea. When I re- turned to our station, the natives said that I was the first human be- ing to circumnavigate this partic- ular body of water, and thereafter, they referred to me as "Shadmutt," an Egyptian term meaning odd- ball. That same year my colleagues and I were captured by Arabs, but they let us escape because they thought I acted crazy all the time. I never appreciated their attitude, but learned later that the Arabs are always merciful to demented creatures. The constant association with dead things began to get me down. I would dig up musty old dead people, and sometimes they would have to be put together again. It was hot as blazes and my beard was always unkempt. I began to dream of a nice restful job in some cool place-something that re- quired no mental effort. It became such an obsession with me that I decided either to enter a monas- tery or become a college profes- sor. I returned to the United States, arriving at about the same time as burlesque. I decided to do gradu- ate work, and was offered a schol- arship to the University of Wis- consin. A few days later the American Archaeological School asked me to go on another expe- dition, and in 1907 I set sail for Turkey and more dead things. I returned to the states the follow- ing year and decided to put in my application at the University of Missouri because I liked the Cor- nell alma mater song. The Uni- versity was badly in need of a bouncer for their dances and I seemed to fill the bill. Among University students it has become a favorite game to see who can tell the best stories about me. They can't understand why I wear a tam and riding breeches. I used to wear knickers but they showed up my westward ho! knees. I wear a hair net to keep the hair out of my eyes, and I mow the lawn in my underwear because I like to mow the lawn in my under- wear. And some people call me illogical! Someday I will have to move to a town where nobody knows me and become a hermit from choice. Then no one will notice me except to say, "That's Jesse Wrench who is a hermit-frdm choice." And I'll leave this in- scription to be put on my tomb- stone. He's certainly not a cueball, For he's never needed a cue; And he's certainly not a screw- ball, That appellation's taboo. He was snatched from behind the eight ball, And bedded down in this trench; The eight ball's an even number, The oddball's Jesse Wrench. ".And They Hauled It Away to the Mills by BILL SHEPLER and WEBB SCHOTT The Board of Curators had been in continuous session for 78 hours. The good people of the state breathlessly awaited the out- come. Would the Pan-Hel tree be cut down? or wooden it? The president tried once again to restore order, but the din of heated controversy in the smoke- filled conference room was too much for him. He sat down on his dais and leaned over and patted his secretary on the knee. She giggled girlishly. "The tree must go. The damned thing is lowering stu- dents' morals. Besides, we need more lumber for outhouses over at the trailer camp. Think of the housing shortage." Mr. Blippard, dean of men. had the floor, or it had him. After three scotches, he wasn't quite sure. Miss Jones, dean and protector of women, was next. "This case reminds me of the hey-day of the Green Grotto, back in the spring of '45," she said. "Many friends and enemies were made over that, but we sold it to the Zulus as a storehouse for their out-moded heads. Do we want the Pan-Hel House to become another such den of iniquity? I say-down with the tree." She went on all fours as an empty Scotch bottle went whistling by. The dean of men was getting provoked. "Trees were made to grow, and live, just as you and I," Mr. Blip- pard pleaded. "How would you like to be cut down in the prime of life? Every tree has certain in- alienable rights, such as life, liber- ty, and the pursuit of happiness." The president of the Board of Curators rolled out from under a table and hissed. "Think of the many birds you will rob of a home," Mr. Blippard continued. "What a dastardly trick to pull on our unsuspecting feathered friends." He stopped, as he noticed his secretary was attracting more attention with her strip-tease on the conference table. Then, taking his courage in both hands, he tried an appeal to senti- ment. "I think I shall never see, a poem lovely as a tree; a tree that The dean of women threw the bottle back, and he didn't get down in time. "I had my agents out inspect- ing the scene, and they reported that the back was nearly gone from the truck," Miss Jones stated. "From the branches hung various articles of clothing, and underclothing. What a disgrace to the fair name of the school. We cannot allow this to pass," she concluded with dignity. The president drew himself up from the floor, picked up his brief- case, and announced he was going to the Maine woods to work as a forest ranger among his beloved trees. The board gathered in a huddle and elected Dean Blippard to be the new president. He announced his first act of office would be to cut down the Pan-Hel tree, and proclaimed the following day as Pan-Hel Day. All university classes would be dismissed 20 minutes before noon for the cere- mony. Of course, this would be made up at the end of the year by holding school over an extra day. The board stood on the table and cheered lustily. The meet- ing ended by the singing of "And They Cut Down the Pan-Hel Tree." Each month we will print on this page the best short story of the month. The story can be either humorous or serious, but must have student appeal. Preferably it should have a campus or campus hangout background but this is not necessary. Quality and student appeal count most. Length, up to 700 words preferred but longer will be con- sidered. Turn in at Showme office, Room 207, Neff Hall, but pleez have a duplicate copy as no manu- scripts can be returned. The great day finally arrived. Everyone was there, even Tommy Manville with his eighth bride-to- be. They were to be married under the tree, in memory of their first late date, a Hinkson party. A LIFE photographer and feature writer were covering the event. President-elect Blippard steeped briskly forward, swinging a gold- en-headed ax. His first swing went wild, decapitating Miss Jones. His next, however, swung true, and the ax bit deeply, as the spectators alternately cheered and cried. That night the students held a mass demonstration in front of the president's house, singing, "Blippard's a party-pooper," and carrying signs which said, "Wood- man, spare that tree!" But Mr. Blippard had disap- peared down his drain-pipe with the aid of a can of Sani-Flush. "Here's to Blippard he's a damn fine boy! He certainly is a daisy, he drives the girls all crazy. Here's to Blippard he's a damn fine boy. Ein Zwei, Drei, Vier, who's going to buy the beer?" chorused the board of Curators. ". and they hauled it away to the mills." 5 Not satisfied with a periodic Stop Day the Susies must now have a weekly Stop every Wednesday morn- ing, to eliminate, and we quote, "the fatigue epidemic." Not that we're endorsing a stop morning at Mizzou but how would you like to be getting up around ten every Wednesday as are Ann Wright and Martha Stewart, two of Stephens' Susies? Ah me, and to leisurely go through the morning routine as these same little gals give their teeth the brush off. STEPHENS Story by June Keller A morning snack that is more than just a hurried bite. Jan Kimball, Sylvia Morrill, Alice Gist, Ann Wright, and Martha Stewart take care of that empty feeling right hand- ily. Along around eleven there's time to read the bulletin board-and thorough- ly at that. Here Martha Stewart, Sylvia Morrill, Ann Wright, and Jan Kimball scan the travel notices. What's this? Caught in the act is Jan Kimball telephoning to-well, never mind. These stop mornings give time for those lonnnnng conversations. STOP DAY Photography by Mary Joe Connolly Leisurely whiling away the rest of the morning at a hand of bridge are Sylvia Morrill, Ann Wright, Gay Hughes, Jan Kimball, and Alice Gist. None of those hasty glances at the clock. Yes, indeed, this is the best idea since Christmas vacation was ex- tended two days. Let's see, how do you write a letter to the president of the University? Dear Dr. Middle- bush. . A veteran reporter tells his experiences so hold tight to your seats as you read this weird tale of a man from Missouri The Rover Boys in Tokyo by GEORGE E. JOHNSON A few weeks ago, I was travel- ing the middle section of the country, and for nostalgic reasons stopped in a rather morbidly de- pressing town where a friend of mine ran a school of journalism. Now it seems this friend of mine had a class composed mostly of persons who might best be de- scribed as fiends and frustrated plumbers, who for some un- fathomable reason wanted to be reporters. It also seems this friend of mine had a practice of having outstanding newspaper- men address the class. Unfortu- nately, on this day, Drew Pearson, Colonel McCormack, and Bob Casey had backed out at the last moment. It was five minutes be- fore class, and my friend was afraid he would have to lecture the class himself. It was precisely at this minute that I pushed the empty beer cans aside and entered his office. He seized both my hands, reached back and whipped out a bowie knife. I graciously consented to tell his class of one of my more thrilling experiences as a free lance legman in Tokyo before the war-the time I scooped the world on a Japanese cabinet crisis. We left the office and entered the lecture room. A few of the embryo reporters were gaily de- capitating a copy editor as we entered, but on seeing us they re- spectfully bared their heads, and sat down, pencils poised over blank notebooks. The girls pul- led their skirts above their knees, 8 crossed their legs, and I began. . . It was several years ago. We had been treking for days. No luck. We had passed the last shrine of Bouldha Bushadah, a local deity, greatly revered by the natives. But we pressed ever on- ward, onward, as if impelled by some strange urge. Huntley was stark, raving mad. We ran out of water, food, clothing. The bearers deserted one by one. Finally, on the tenth day after the water gave out, I impulsively seized my Schneiders- Krupp elephant gun and let Hunt- lev have it through the brain. Ten minutes later I sighted the towers of Tokyo. . . . The phone rang. I put down a bound volume of "Coun- try Life," May-December, 1935, and languidly answered. It was Jones of Hearst's I.N.S. "Good God, Johnson," he said. "Damn, hell. The Jap cabinet has fallen, and we damnwell have to get the new one out on the wire by midnight. Young's dead drunk. You've got to help me. Get the official O.K. and give me 1000 words. Dammit, good-by." Carelessly tossing aside a fresh- ly lit Corona-Corona, I downed a quadruple scotch and rang for my town car. It was quite a problem. I re- called the time I had been cap- tured by the Ghurkas in Bombay, and involuntarily shuddered. I had barely escaped the death of a thousand slices then, and I still twitch when I think of that hor- rible night when the leader of the gang read me an advertisement for Scott's Tissue over for 12 hours in sotto voice. I tapped my man on the should- er. We stopped and I got out at my favorite Saki joint. Downing a septule scotch with the native drinking cry of "HoLah!", I pulled the curtains of my booth and be- gan to think the thing out. . We Johnsons have always been impulsive, resourceful, bril- liant. I remember my great grandfather Silas. the first man to go over Niagara Falls in a whiskey barrel. The barrel was half full, but they hadn't found out until grandfather was on the brink of horseshoe falls. A tense, hushed little group quickly gathered at the edge of the whirlpool. Eager hands grasp- ed the barrel, pulled it to shore. The lid was removed, the barrel tilted. Grandfather rolled out, the whiskey had disappeared. An internationally famous surgeon rushed to grandfather's side. Grandfather wasn't dead, but God, was he drunk. After this, a damper seemed to have been put upon the family, at least until Uncle Luther went over Victoria Falls in a Salvation Army tambourine in 1925. It was his gesture against the futility and impending collapse of West- ern civilization. Unhappily, he hasn't been heard from since. But the problem at hand was extremely pressing. I downed an octuple scotch, and lit a green dappled cigar. The Japanece are a peculiar race. They have many foibles. Here was my solution. I decided to recall all the idiosyn- cracies of the emperor, deftly gain an audience, satisfy the most "idio" of the lot, and get my scoop in return. I roared out to the car. Some few minutes later I pulled up at the main gate of the palace. I had disguised myself as a shark's fin, and was smuggled into the palace by a Hearst secret operator. Still in my shark's fin disguise, I was placed bodily in a bowl of shark's fin soup, balanced pre- cariously on the head of a Hearst- paid lackey, and carried into the presence of the Emperor. His grace tossed aside a copy of "Captain Billy's Whiz Bang" and seized his chop sticks. "Now," I thought, and sprang from the soup bowl. In my haste, I slipped, and plowed headlong into the son of Heaven. He fell over backwards, I on top of him. I rose gasping, and stopped to help him to his feet. His hair had evidently caught on the cushions, for as I pulled him up, it came off, and with it his face. It was fantastic, like something out of "Batman and Robin." For there stood, not the Emperor of Japan, but William Randloph Hearst. My scoop was assued and with a glad cry, I whipped out my tele- type and fired out the electrifying news that startled the whole world. Joe: "A woman's greatest at- traction is her hair." Moe: "I say it's her eyes." Ike: "It is unquestionably her teeth." Mike: "What's the use of sitting here and lying to each other?" Doc Brown: "You missed my class yesterday, didn't you?" Jack: "No sir, not a bit." If all the Thetas in the world who didn't neck were put in one room what would we do with her? Funeral Director (to aged mourner): "How old are you?" "I'll be 98 next month." "Hardly worth going home, is it?" Mother, will college girls go to heaven? Yes, but they won't like it. "Hello, is Mary in?" "This is Mary." "I want Mary. Is this Mary?" "Yes, this is Mary." "It doesn't sound like Mary." "But I tell you this is Mary." "Well, listen, Mary, I can't make it Friday." "All right. I'll tell Mary when she comes in." She reached below her dimpled knee Into her rolled down stocking, And there she found a roll of bills Ah me, 'twas sweetly shocking. "Why don't you keep them in a bank?" Inquired a nosey prier. "The principle is the same," she said "But the interest here is higer." --California Pelican. 9 I impulsively seized my Schneiders-Krupp elephant gun and let Huntley have it through the brain. On this page we will print the best cartoons submitted by students of Missouri each month. If you are a good cartoonist, why not let the entire campus see your work? Copies of Showme go to King Features as well as various metropolitan dailies and periodicals. So possibly here's a chance to get national recognition. Turn all cartoons into the Showme office, Room 207, Neff Hall. " He fills it once every five years" Johnnie Moelling "I want you to meet Prof. Smith- he's head of our anthropology depart- ment." . . . John de Lorenzi "I think I know now, Mr. Hanson, why they call those drinks, 'Purple Passions!" . . Phillip Damaree "You certainly took God's own time getting here!" . . . George E. Johnson On this page we present cartoons from other college humor magazines. How do these compare with Mis- souri's? We definitely think car- toonists here can do as well (or bet- ter) so how about submitting a car- toon for the page across the way? Best "DECEPION" PLAY I'VE SEEN -Annapolis Log. PRINGLE, I'D LIKE YOU TO MEET A BIG MAN ON CAMPUS --Northwestern Purple Parrot. "Rinso . ." -Stanford Chaparral. "Joscoe has a wonderful idea for after the show." -Northwestern Purple Parrot. 11 A new magazine-or should we say a revived magazine? -suddenly appears on the campus. And what happens? It's gotta have a queen. But of course. What is a maga- zine without a queen? And with these gorgeous gals to choose from, Showme can't go wrong. Pulchritude, personality and selling power all in one handy package are these 39 salesgirls, all of whom sold fabulous numbers of subscriptions in competition for the coveted crown. And not to be daunted by 'way below sub-zero weather and blustering breezes, they graciously give with a little cheesecake to show all the beloved subscribers just exactly what it was that talked them into subscribing. Showme Queen Story by Mary Louise Miller Two girls from each sorority, two from Hendrix Hall, four from Women's Residence Hall, and one from each of the five largest independent houses were entered as salsgirls and candidates for Showme Queen. Current betting odds on the winning salesgirl may be obtained at the Showme office and any and all bets will be taken. The queen and her court of four will appear in next month's issue. So don't miss it! Candidates Photography by Mary Joe Connolly First Group: Susan Wurst, Alpha Chi Omega; Spring Crafts, Chi Omega; Mary Cooperider, Delta Gamma; Marilyn Golladay, Women's Residence Hall; Charm Weddington, 709 Hitt St.; Joy Wilson, Alpha Gamma Delta; Frances Weinberg, Phi Sigma Sigma; Adrianne Mallin, Alpha Epsilon Phi; Jane Goetzman, Alpha Delta Pi; Georgia Wood-Smith, Alpha Delta Pi. Second Group: Suzanne Grigsby, Kappa Kappa Gamma; Gladys Northcott, Kappa Kappa Gamma; Charlene McPheeters, Gamma Phi Beta; Alma Wyatt, Alpha Chi Omega; Helen Dowd, Alpha Gamma Delta; Dot King, Alpha Phi; Rosemary Powell, Pi Beta Phi; Doris Young, Hendrix Hall; Kathie Chamblin, Alpha Phi; Betty Baker, Hendrix Hall. Third Group: Louise Crutcher, Women's Residence Hall; Gloria Vaniman, Gamma Phi Beta; Gwyned Filling, Women's Residence Hall; Rowena Ritchie, 701 Missouri Ave.; Lucy Hurt, Chi Omega; Sue Hart, Delta Gamma; Marilyn Bange, Kappa Alpha Theta; Sally Limerick, Kappa Alpha Theta; Jean Marshall, Delta Delta Delta; Ruth Beckemeier, Delta Delta Delta. Fourth Group: Ruth Dyer, 517 Hitt St.; Shirley Laner, Phi Sigma Sigma; Mildred Arnsperger, Templecrome Co-op; Susan Conrad, Zeta Tau Alpha; Gwen Kelly, Home Ec Co-op; Betty Jane Johnson, Pi Beta Phi; Dottie Adair, Women's Residence Hall. Missing: Elizabeth Brown, Zeta Tau Alpha; Sheila Slann, Alpha Epsilon Phi, After a long absence from the campus many a veteran needs help in adjusting to his old routine so here are a few tips Apple Polishing as a Fine Art by JOHN CROSSER Apple polishing as a fine art calls for expostulation, discussion and demonstration. Most apple polishers on the campus have the freshman instinct, as do apple polishers in the army, in business, and in the church. Instructors, who have been and are apple polishers of the first order, welcome a master at the game. They appreciate a fellow in arms whose technique reminds them of past conquests. In con- trast they shudder at the approach of the ordinary run whose ludi- crous efforts are pitiful to behold. Being told what not to do is often of more worth than to chart a campaign that only a few will follow. However, I shall do both. The class will come to order with no bright remarks about your order being beer and sandwiches. That is strictly high school stuff. Nor must we emphasize that the high school technique is the most common on the campus. Rushing to the instructor and asking foolish questions types the polisher as just out of high school. It often worked in high school simply because the high school teacher knew the polisher was a son or daughter of a school board member. The University instructor im- mediately recognizes this type and groans. He is anxious to get away from class, to go to lunch or to forget the whole thing. So we exhort the rusherupper to get the hell out of the class room as quickly as possible. If he has legitimate business, use the office hours of the instructor. Be careful to catch him with ab- 14 solutely nothing to do, which is comparatively easy. Next in line of wasted effort is the sex appeal aproach. The in- structor who fell for that once is now beating his brains out to feed the kiddies, buy Mom a new coat, or save enough to spend a vaca- tion away from the kiddies, the Mom, and the coat. Using your eyes often gets I's. Using a flourish of the head or body only reminds him of the time he stood on his head to at- tract Susie. He wants to forget that! Don't be an eager beaver and hand in two assignments when only one is wanted. This may prove fatal. The instructor hates like hell to grade one paper, not to mention two. The eager beav- er must remember that the in- structor thinks already that the student is dumb, and there is no foresight in giving him a double dose, and confirming the im- pression. There are many other don'ts," but suffice to mention only one more, called the fraternity or sorority scramble. The brothers or sisters are tipped off that Maggie is not doing so well in her course, "Art as a Career." Therefore, the instructor is overwhelmed by numerous boys or girls who speak nicely each time they meet him. They know his name! That, to most instruc- tors, is most satisfying recognition. Soon he is invited "over to the house" for dinner and the final push. It is fairly good technique and only the strong survive this ordeal and retain their academic independence. We have listed the most glar- ing "Don'ts." Now for the "Do's!" On the first day be sure, if at all possible, to either sit on the front row or the back row. The front row indicates a passing in- terest in the course and you are one up on the rest of the class. The back row indicates that you do not give a damn and it may arouse a dormant pedagogical am- bition in the instructor to show you that, after all. he DOES have the only worthwhile course in the university. We recall a case in particular in which one Lebo was suddenly awakened by his logic instructor. Lebo sleepily said, "Even so, who gives a damn." It was such deep logic that the instructor not only gave Lebo an "E" grade but quit teaching and went to farming. Those seated midways in the class are the forgotten tribe. They must actually work or else. There are two approaches once you have seated yourself properly. Most often used by the master polisher is the dumb or "poor me" attitude. It often arouses pity to such an extent that the instructor will remember his own days of plugging. You may arouse sympa- thy and sympathy is a deep emo- tion. Be careful not to carry it too far. You may cause the in- structor to feel sorry for himself and he's been fighting that for years. He will likely tell you to get the hell out of the class unless you, too, become an instructor. The most satisfying and usually most successful effort is the "in- terested in every word" technique. ( Continued on Page 18 ) You really orter Pay a quarter for Show me! But, what the hell, To make it sell And do our daily stint We'll cut the price Or shake the dice To see our name in print. -John Crosser. FOREVER AMBER-or DO THEY BREW IT IN OTHER COLORS? I've tried to analyze myself, But my constituents won't stand still. They reel and stagger 'til mid- night; In the morning they're practically nil. Each evening I went toward the Dixie, Poet's Corner With hopes and thirst quite high. I burp love tunes with the juke box. At sun-up I wish I could die. I've tried to analyze myself. Believe me it isn't a snap. For all my life's ambitions Seem to remain-on tap! -Lee Erskine. ON (and off) THE SURFACE "Ipana for the Smile of Beauty," (Had ten teeth out today) "I'd Walk a Mile for a Camel," (If my feet were just O.K.) They say, "Borden's Made Me Famous," (I've five cows in my back yard) "She's Engaged Because She Uses Ponds," (But I am still suporting Maud) Popeye says, "Eat spinach," (Junior listens not to me) "And it's Not a Bird, it's Not a Plane," (Who could that mortal be?) "Duz Does Everything," 'tis said, (It looks quite well in print) And, "There's nothing so dismal as . (What's that thing that B.O. stands for. . . hint?) Just send in three boxtops, (And $3 in check . . . not loose) They'll send you back (postage paid) (The Ten Ways to Reduce) This business really drives you mad, (And so I'm compromising) Today I bought a book that's called ("The Art of Advertising!") -June Tremblay, 1945 McLAUGHLIN BROS. FURNITURE AROUND THE COLUMNS ( Continued from Page 3 ) the indicator just whipped about in crazy gyrations. Kekeris generally placed his weight between 265-285. Tiger mentor Chauncy Simpson lit on the figure 295. Men he blocked and tackled knew that at least 300 pounds had hit them. Opponents regularly played two men against Kekeris and the Nebraska family mauled the hell out of him. Several Nebraska linemen who stood against him, however, were carried to the side- lines. It was a Cornhusker named Sedlacek who took a powerful dislike to Kekeris and began mix- ing it up. Both were ruled off the field. Said Potsy Clark, Ne- braska coach: "A dirty player!" But movies of the game showed Kekeris playing clean ball and taking the shiner of the season from Sedlacek's fist without rais- ing a hand. Coach Simpson turned over some rare material for '46 to re- turning Head Coach Don Faurot, but no doubt the prize apple of the lot was Jumbo Jim, with one more year's eligibility. The Shadow? The Varsity Debate Squad, that organization that spends its extra- curricular time in periodically exercising its vocal cords, would like to know the name, origin, and whereabouts of a certain dark-haired male character. The gentleman (?) in question at- tended a forensic whing-ding after the notorious "Greek vs. Inde- pendent" debate and it was dis- covered two weeks later that no one knew who he was! Who in- vited him? From whence did he come? And whither did he go? That's what the debaters would like to know! The group adjourned to a well- stocked apartment after the debate to talk about whatever debaters talk about. This aforementioned character was noticed at intervals during the evening, unobtrusively skulking in the background. Everyone accredited his presence to someone else. When an inventory of the party was taken two weeks later, the re- sulting roll call was: two Wiscon- sin debaters, three Engineers (in- vited along for atmosphere), and this grandson of Yehudi! He seemed to have a good time though and it is remembered with chagrin that during the entire evening he spoke only three words, "I'll take soda!" Nightmare Existence Rumor has it that a certain family living on the outskirts of town keeps having nightmares. . . . A terrific roar, if taken apart, tinkling ice, splintering glass, squeals of laughter, shuffl- ing feet, muffled music, falling bodies, slamming doors. The central character seems to be black-skinned, slow-moving George. He glides in and out of overflowing tables-trying to track down the constant wailing of his name. This Dante-type dream dies out, they say, about 2 a.m. with repetitive "Give it back to us," issuing from a hundred burned- out throats. Alumnus: "Why, I'm sorry to hear that. How did Brother K. die?" S.A.E.: "He fell through some scaffolding." Alumnus: What was he doing up there?" S.A.E.: "Being hanged." Lamba Chi: "May I kiss your hand?" Alpha Phi: "What's the mat- ter? Is my mouth sticky?" DUTCH'S Harzfeld's APPLE POLISHING ( Continued from Page 14 ) You will find it very helpful to pay little attention to what the man is saying. Instead thereof, think of last night's date or the one you will have tonight. Your eyes will shine; your whole being will radiate that something which brings response from any man re- gardless of his age, the status of his married life, or his own con- ception of right and wrong. It helps somewhat to actually work a little on the course. You should know the name of the course, the name of the instructor, and, now and then, you should ex- hibit a notebook. It is not at all necessary to have anything in the notebook. And now for the really fine points of the game. Plan your campaign much as you would an amorous conquest. Learn quickly the associates of the instructor. Cultivate those who repeat all they hear. Most of his associates will fall into this category. Then, tell THEM what a brilliant per- son is Mr. Thickhead and the joy of listening to his lectures. Never in a moment of honesty make the statement that you think he ought to be farming. The associate repeats your ob- servations and Mr. Thickhead im- mediately agreed with you and you are a very smart fellow, in- deed. Be careful never to ask a ques- tion in class or answer one. Ig- norance is often taken for wisdom because a man has sense enough to keep his mouth shut. Be the silent, interested follower whose academic day is bearable only be- cause you have the privilege of listening to Mr. Thickhead. It never fails of you are an accomp- lished hypocrite. This is a bare outline of what must be done to earn the degree "Master Polisher." For some it is much easier to actually study and force a grade. For others, it is much more fun to polish the apple until it glistens-glistens sufficiently to reflect the hypo- critical but smiling face of he who contributes his mite to the fine art of polishing apples. Cpl.: "In this bottle I have peroxide which makes blondes, and in this bottle I have dye which makes brunettes." Pvt.: "What's in the third bot- tle?" Cple.: "Gin which makes both." -Alabama Rammerjammer. So you had a date with a col- lege man? No, I tore my dress on a nail. She: "Nobody loves me, and my hands are cold." He: "God loves you and your mother loves you and you can sit on your hands." Going to the Homecoming game? Yah. You from Missouri? Yah. Class of 1940. That was my class, too. Frat man? Yah. ATO. ATO? Hell, I was an ATO, but I don't remember you. Yah? Where'd you sit at meetings? Second row. Oh, that acounts for it. I was in the third balcony. He never gave her a second thought. He was too busy with the first one.-Northwestern Purple Par- rot. Maid: There was two men standing outside your window while you were dressing last night. Madame: That's nothing, you should have seen the crowd when I was younger. Shortest story in the world: "Huh?" "Uh Huh." GAEBLER'S-Black and Gold Inn UNIVERSITY BOOK STORE I hate to bother you, but you haven't paid your rent this month. Young girl (peering out of her berth on a sleeper, spying an elder- ly gentleman): "Sir have you the time?" Old Gentleman: "No, madam, nor the inclination." "May I take you home? I like to take experienced girls home." "But I'm not experienced." "You're not home yet." She: "Would you like to see where I was operated on for ap- pendicitis?" He: "No, I hate hospitals." "I'll stand on my head or bust." "Better just stand on your head." Coed: "First it was love. He fascinated me and I kissed him." Senior: "Yeah, and then he be- gan to unfascinate you and you slapped him." 20 Professor (to class): "There's a young man in this class making a jackass of himself. When he is finished, I'll start." We point with pride to the purity of the white space between our jokes. Cop: "Say, you can't sleep in the park." He and she: "Who's sleeping?" Don't you ever read anything but the jokes? A sailor is a man who usually has the same thing on his mind that he has on his chest. "Who was that lady I saw you with last night?" "That was no lady, that was my brother. He just walks that way. The Novus Shop "I'd love to stay and watch; but I've got a coke date at ten." TURNER'S DORN-CLONEY Laundry and Dry Cleaning Neff's Date Shop "Wonder What Freud would do in a case like this?" . . . George E. John- Miller's McAllister Dress Shop "Just tell your Kappa Sig friend she's got everything . . . the Kappa Sigs want." He: "I have no idea." She: "Aren't you even inquisi- tive?" There was a very young Sig Chi pledge who, upon answering the door, hurried to the actives. "Sir, there's a woman peddler at the door." Sig Chi active: "Tell him we got plenty." Breathes there a frosh so abnormal That he can't be stirred by a low cut formal. Judge: "Who was driving when you collided with that car?" Drunk (triumphantly): "None of us. We were all neckin' in the back seat." Phi Delt: "Say, Bud, what's that you're reading?" Phi Sig: "The title is 'What Twenty Million Girls Want'." Phi Delt: "Did they spell my name right?" "No, Mabel, a neckerchief is not the head of a sorority house." Say, who are you shoving? I dunno. What's your name? Father: Your new little brother has arrived. Very Modern Child: Where'd he come from? Father: From a far-away coun- try. Very Modern Child: Another damned alien. ALL RIGHT; I'VE GOT YOUR PIN. NOW WHAT? "Eavesdropping again," said Adam as hsi wife fell out of the tree. BING'S McQUITTY QUICK PRINTERS CHECKER CAB CO. Showme is your magazine. It has to be your magazine in order for it to succeed. We on the Showme staff have started the ball rolling but it is up to you what happens to Showme from now on. This is the first issue since the war and we on the staff admit it has been a task to begin again and that the present issue is not at all up to the standards we hope to attain. We believe that Missouri humor is about the best in the coun- try. This applies to state, town, and particularly on the campus. We believe there is talent on this campus,. in humor, art, and in literary talent, to reveal to the world at large and to ourselves this particular brand of Missouri humor. This is where you come in. Showme is your magazine and we will put forth every effort to present your talent and creative genius to the public, both on the campus and nation-wide. Showme always was and will continue to be a student maga- zine. With your help we can present a true picture of life at the University of Missouri. If you are interested in helping showme at any and with any talent, stop in the Showme office, Room 207, Neff Hall. You are always welcome. V. PAUL ALLEN NAOMI C. ALLEN Paul Allen's Flowers SHOWME Chesterfield Cigarettes